Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3014: A Sheath Housing Past, Present, And Future

The short sword trembled ever so slightly in his hand—whether it was just his own Immortal Qi reacting or something more, Lin Mu couldn’t tell.

But it felt right.

He stepped forward and gently let the old sword drift toward the sheath. Unlike the violent reactions with sabers or spears, this time the blade floated serenely, cradled in energy as soft as water. It passed into the Divine Sheath with grace—like a returning soul to its home.

The moment it entered, Lin Mu felt a sense of completeness.

He closed his eyes and extended his Immortal Sense to the sheath once more.

There it was—settled in a separate chamber of sorts. Unlike the sections nurturing Ocean Raker and Afternoon Pine, which brimmed with refining essence and rapid growth, this chamber was still. It was peaceful. The flow of energy within it wasn’t demanding or shaping—it was healing.

"It’s like you’ve made a cradle within a cradle," Lin Mu muttered.

He took a long breath, his gaze distant.

"You’ll be with me again someday. I don’t know when. But I’ll be waiting."

A flicker of something passed through the sheath in response—perhaps a shared memory, perhaps nothing. But to Lin Mu, it was enough.

He stood in silence beneath the star-lit sky, hand resting on the hilt that jutted slightly from behind his back. The Sword Cradle Divine Sheath—now housing past, present, and future—felt more than a Dao Embryo now.

It was a living legacy, carrying his journey forward and preserving the echoes of where it began.

And with that knowledge, Lin Mu turned and walked back into the courtyard—leaving behind only the quiet hum of metal and memory.

With the trials of the Sacred Grounds completed and the formation of his Sword Dao Embryo now a permanent part of his cultivation path, Lin Mu found himself... at peace.

For the first time in a long while, he had no urgent tasks, no looming threats, and no burning questions gnawing at his soul. His journey in the Xian Sword Sect had reached its natural conclusion.

There was nothing more the sect could offer in terms of growth—nothing except the occasional sparring matches with the elders, which he partook in every few days to refine his skills and give the elders a sense of his unfathomable progress.

Still, there was one elder he hadn’t had the chance to exchange blows with yet: Grand Elder Huo.

The man was perpetually buried under mountains of sect affairs, handling logistics, policy enforcement, disciplinary matters, and keeping several unruly branches of the sect in check. Lin Mu had visited his office once, only to be greeted by rows of jade slips stacked like towers and spirit cranes flying in and out bearing messages from all over the sect’s provinces.

Even for someone as accomplished as Grand Elder Huo, the burden of administration was a cage that shackled his sword.

As such, their sparring match was postponed indefinitely.

The Patriarch, however, remained present.

Though he was a man of few words and a presence akin to a monolith—ever silent, ever sharp—he would sometimes call for Lin Mu. They never met in the Sect Hall or any formal venue, but always somewhere quiet: a secluded cliff, the rooftop of the Jade Echo Retreat, or the shaded pavilion nestled between sword stone gardens.

One evening, as the sky was dyed a deep indigo and the stars began flickering to life, Lin Mu sat across from the Patriarch beneath the old plum blossom tree blooming out of season. The petals fell gently onto the table between them, where a simple teapot steamed gently.

After a long moment of shared silence, Lin Mu finally asked, "May I ask, Senior... what was the purpose of your long seclusion? Was it for a breakthrough?"

The old man glanced at him, his single eye as calm and deep as an ancient lake.

"I am... close," he said after a pause.

"Close to the Celestial Realm?" Lin Mu asked cautiously, his tone respectful.

The Patriarch didn’t deny it. He looked up at the sky, as if peering beyond it.

"Have you heard it too?" he asked.

Lin Mu didn’t need clarification.

"The world’s call," Lin Mu said softly, nodding. "Yes. I’ve heard it before."

That piqued the Patriarch’s curiosity. His brow rose slightly as he looked at the young man who had shaken the foundations of the Xian Sword Sect without seeking power or fame.

"So you’ve already been ordained by a World’s Will, then?"

Lin Mu smiled faintly, recalling that moment within the Xiaofan World, when the heavens themselves had acknowledged him—not through ceremony or spectacle, but through the subtle, all-encompassing pressure that had descended upon him like sunlight breaking through clouds.

"I have... Back in my homeworld." Lin Mu said. "It was... unmistakable."

The Patriarch took a long sip of his tea, letting the warmth settle into him.

"I have not," he said quietly. "Not yet."

Lin Mu didn’t reply immediately. He waited.

The old man continued, "But I can feel it watching me. I feel its silence. As if it waits."

"For what?" Lin Mu asked, genuinely curious.

"I do not know," the Patriarch admitted. "Perhaps it waits for me to do something more. To prove I am worthy. I have spent millenniums cultivating my Dao, perfecting my sword, defending this sect, and guiding those within it. And yet... the World does not bow."

Lin Mu tilted his head in understanding.

"The Will of the World isn’t always swayed by merit alone," he said. "Sometimes, it seeks meaning. A spark that changes something. I think... it waits for a moment when your sword will not just protect—but decide."

The old man’s gaze turned sharper, but not unkind.

"You speak like someone who understands," he said.

"I do," Lin Mu said. "Because I’ve felt it. That invisible weight pressing down, and the certainty that whatever I did next would alter more than just my life."

The two sat in silence once again. The only sounds were the rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of the sword formations in the mountains.