Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3003: The Xian Sword Sect Patriarch Appears!

The man before the elders was tall—towering over everyone at more than two meters.

His presence was like a sword unsheathed: sharp, clean, impossibly calm, yet capable of cutting down everything in its path. His long white beard flowed in the wind, every strand unnaturally straight—not like hair, but like threads of refined blade edge.

He wore no extravagant robes, only simple gray-white garments, but they carried an ancient power that made every elder instinctively bow their heads in reverence.

”Patriarch!” the elders cried out in unison, their voices echoing through the mountain.

Even Grand Elder Huo, ever composed and calm, gave a rare nod of deep respect.

The man who had arrived was none other than the Sect Patriarch of the Xian Sword Sect—a figure so rarely seen that some younger elders had never even laid eyes on him. He had been in seclusion for decades, perhaps centuries, meditating on the pinnacle of Sword Dao in an unknown location.

And now, he had returned.

Patriarch Xian Zhenwu, the man said to be closest to reaching Celestial Ascension since the sect’s founder, stepped forward. His gaze lifted to the skies, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the spectral sword beyond the rift.

The winds grew silent. Even the oppressive sword intent that leaked from the crack seemed to pause, acknowledging his presence.

”Patriarch!” Elder Yan Dao stepped forward first. ”You... how did you come out of seclusion so soon? We did not dare disturb you!”

”I was not disturbed,” the Patriarch replied. His voice was quiet, yet it carried across the peak like an unsheathed blade. ”When the Xian Sword Spirit awakens in full... no true sword cultivator can ignore it.”

He raised a hand, his palm trembling slightly—not with weakness, but with the weight of what he was sensing.

”This presence... this will...” he said, voice heavy with awe. ”It has not stirred since the founding era. Not even when I passed through the Sacred Grounds myself did I feel its gaze so sharply.”

The elders were silent.

Even the ones who had once entered the Sacred Grounds in their youth had never experienced anything like this. The Sword Spirit—rumored to be a formation-based consciousness born from the wills of all sword cultivators who had passed through the trials—had always been passive. Dormant. Merely the guardian of the grounds.

Yet now it stirred.

More than stirred—it reverberated with energy that blanketed the entire sect.

The Patriarch narrowed his eyes, peering deeper into the rift. ”There is someone within,” he said at last. ”A sword cultivator whose will is resonating with the Spirit.”

Elder Feng Xia stepped forward. ”It is Lin Mu, Patriarch.”

The name hung in the air.

The Patriarch blinked. ”Lin Mu?”

He searched his memory—unable to remember anyone of that name. Sure, there were many disciples within the sect with the name Lin Mu, but none had the capability to do something like this.

”No disciple of our sect—no mortal or immortal—has ever made the Xian Sword Spirit reveal its full form,” the Patriarch murmured. ”Yet now... it shows itself completely.”

”Patriarch... He’s not a disciple of our sect.” Grand Elder Huo spoke up. ”Lin Mu is a guest that has arrived a few years ago. He has already passed the Path of the Sealed Swords. He reached the Sword Heart Stage within. And... It is confirmed that he was offered a legacy by none other than Daoist Star Slayer himself.”

The Patriarch turned his head slowly, shock flickering in his blade-like eyes.

”Daoist Star Slayer?” he echoed. ”Then... that means he reached the founder’s final trial.”

The sky shuddered again, another ripple of sword intent washing over them.

”Yes,” Grand Elder Huo said solemnly. ”And now... I believe he’s doing something no one else ever has.”

A beat of silence followed.

The Patriarch looked at the rift, now glowing brighter than ever. The form of the Xian Sword Spirit had solidified, revealing the full length of the infinite blade that cradled all of Lin Mu’s journey so far. And then, faintly—faintly but surely—the image of a sheath began to form over its hilt.𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

His eyes widened further.

”He’s not just resonating,” the Patriarch said softly. ”He’s redefining the sword.”

The skies above the Xian Sword Sect continued to tremble. The crack in space, vast and radiant, had become a blade-shaped gate unto the heavens themselves. From its depths, the impossible sword—the Xian Sword Spirit—protruded like a divine monument, now leaning downward.

Its infinite edge, once unreachable and veiled in mystery, slowly tilted forward, the very tip lowering toward the summit of Mount Sky Sever like the bow of a general returning from war. The clouds swirled away, parted by its sheer presence. Sword intent howled in the air, too strong for many to even breathe in its presence.

And then—he appeared.

A lone figure walking atop the very tip of the sword.

His robes fluttered in the raging wind, tattered yet noble. His black hair trailed behind him like a banner. Upon his back was slung a massive sheath, plain and unadorned, yet so heavy in presence it made even the seasoned elders hold their breath.

Lin Mu had returned.

But not through a humble exit or an unnoticed ripple in space, as others before him had. No—he emerged like the very embodiment of the sword’s will. Not like a disciple returning from a trial, but like a sovereign descending from a battlefield.

Gasps echoed across the peak. Many of the younger disciples who’d been unconscious from the sheer pressure awoke only to glimpse the silhouette in the sky, etched into their minds forever. The elders who had stood tensely now backed away half a step, not out of fear—but out of instinctive awe.

”Is that... truly Lin Mu?” High Elder Yan Dao whispered, eyes wide with disbelief as he watched the man.

Even Grand Elder Huo’s expression twitched, his usually stern face softening with rare emotion.

But it was the Patriarch, Xian Zhenwu, who focused most intently on the boy.