Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2953: 1st In All Rankings!

Yan Dao chuckled again. ”Let him climb. If he’s daring enough to test every sword style in the Puppet Hall and break records one after another... then perhaps...”

He trailed off, but Yi Feiyan finished the thought aloud.

”...then perhaps he’s ready for the Path of Sealed Blades.”

A deep, humming silence followed the statement.

The Path of Sealed Blades.

A place far beyond the regular puppet halls. A trial ground hidden within Mount Sky Sever itself. A location where sword intents of ancient immortals were sealed within eternal puppets—where the boundary between training and true life-and-death combat blurred.

Yan Dao turned, his sleeves fluttering slightly with immortal qi.

”Let’s see how he performs in the tournament. If he shows what I think he will...”

”...then we’ll open the path,” Yi Feiyan finished, nodding.

Back in the private Puppet Hall, Lin Mu stood with a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek, eyes focused, sword lowered as another puppet fell.

He smiled, muscles tired but spirit soaring.

”One minute fifty-nine...”

His name would flash once more in the records above.

And far above him, destiny was being carved with each swing of his blade.

The final puppet crumbled to its knees, its blade clattering to the polished floor before dissolving into motes of immortal light.

Lin Mu let out a long breath, the edge of his sword humming softly as if in satisfaction. He sheathed it with a clean, practiced motion, a faint smile playing on his lips.

He had done it.

Every style.

Every stage.

Each one defeated with nothing but his sword, skill, and intent.

His limbs ached after over a month of nonstop battle, and his mind was a storm of sword trajectories, footwork patterns, and hundreds of parried strikes—but deep within, there was an overwhelming sense of contentment.

He hadn’t set out to break records, he didn’t even know they existed. He’d simply wanted to challenge himself, to test his growth and push further.

Little did he know he had just made history.

With quiet footsteps, he left the Puppet Hall behind.

In the courtyard nestled behind the puppet hall, the evening sun bathed the stone pathways in a warm amber glow. Birds flitted among the trees, and a cool breeze carried the faint scent of herb blossoms and crisp mountain air.

Daoist Chu sat cross-legged beneath a blossoming spirit peach tree, sipping tea while observing Meng Bai, who was knee-deep in rearranging a complex five-layered formation circle on a jade slate.

The patterns pulsed lightly, and the faintest strands of spirit qi drifted around him.

Suddenly, both looked up.

Footsteps.

Lin Mu emerged from the forested path leading from the Puppet Hall, his robe a little scuffed, his hair slightly tousled, and an unmistakable air of satisfaction clinging to him.

Meng Bai raised a brow. ”You were gone for over four weeks.”

Daoist Chu chuckled, setting his teacup down. ”He took his time.”

Lin Mu nodded, walking over and collapsing onto a nearby stone bench. ”It was too exciting. I couldn’t stop once I started. Every style... every puppet... each one different.”

Meng Bai opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, but then glanced at Daoist Chu.

The immortal gave him a subtle side-glance and a faint shake of the head. ’Not now.’

Meng Bai swallowed his words.

Lin Mu noticed. ”Hm? Something you want to say?”

Daoist Chu smiled instead, folding his arms behind his back. ”Let’s just say there might be... a surprise waiting for you later.”

Lin Mu’s eyes narrowed slightly. ”What kind of surprise?”

”Oh, nothing dangerous,” Daoist Chu said, teasing. ”You’ve simply stirred the waters a bit.”

”Stirred the...?” Lin Mu tilted his head.

”Just wait and watch,” Daoist Chu said mysteriously, then changed the subject. ”Now that you’re done training, how about dinner?”

Not long after, the smell of roasted root vegetables, stir-fried immortal greens, and herb-smoked beast meat drifted from the courtyard kitchen.

Little Shrubby had taken over the open-air stove, tongue sticking out in deep concentration as he arranged a medley of spirit herbs and rare ingredients picked from the gardens across the peak.

He’d even harvested some ripened Starlight Lotus Beans, which glowed faintly with immortal qi and vital energy, and added them into the stew bubbling over a low flame.

Ashy and the twin snakes, Xiao Yin and Xiao Yang, were perched nearby—tails swaying in rhythm with their hunger—although a single glance from Little Shrubby kept them from stealing tastes.

They’d tried once. Never again.

The trio of cultivators sat around a low wooden table under the open sky, the mountains behind them silhouetted against the stars now slowly blanketing the sky.

Bowls clinked, steam rose, and laughter soon joined the mix.

Meng Bai devoured his food like a starved beast, having drained his mind after a long day of formation studies.

Daoist Chu took his time, complimenting the use of Cloudcap Mushrooms to balance out the spicy Thunder Pepper Leaves.

Lin Mu simply smiled as he ate, content with the peace.

He didn’t know that across the sect, in the Hall of Achievements, every single ranking list for the sixth-stage puppets now bore the name Lin Mu in glowing golden script.

First. In. All. Of. Them.

In the Hall, disciples now gathered even in the dead of night, whispering like they were in the presence of sacred scripture.

One junior disciple stared up with wide eyes. ”He did it. He actually did it.”

”He broke every record...”

”Who is he!?”

”I bet the Grand Elder himself will come looking for him!”

Meanwhile, in the Floating Immortal Platform, High Elders Yan Dao and Yi Feiyan stared at the updated rankings with matching smiles.

”First place in every style,” Yan Dao said, rubbing his beard. ”I’m going to need to reclaim some of those records someday.”

”Too late now, old man.” Yi Feiyan grinned. ”You’re no longer a disciple.”

”Bah! Fine. We were supposed to purge my records eventually anyway. This is much better than that.” Yan Dao laughed. ”Better someone of the same generation as the disciples than us old fogeys.”

They turned, already drafting something behind the scenes.

Something that might just shake the entire sect to its foundation.

Something Lin Mu wouldn’t expect—

But would welcome.

After all, a sword needed sharpening.

And few paths were sharper than the one they were preparing for him.