Chapter 2963: A Blade That Echoes - Walker Of The Worlds

The Next Match Zhen Ruo, a Fourth Tribulation Stage Immortal cultivator known for her "Iron Rain" technique, unleashed forty-eight strikes in a cascading wave. Lin Mu parried every blow and tapped her shoulder with the flat of his blade. "You treat your sword like a wall. Try using it as a bridge." And Next Bao Lei, who fused fire with visual distortion from the heat, launched a massive crescent slash. Lin Mu shattered the wave with one upward cut. "Good power. But your focus breaks when you fear losing. Trust the edge, not the flame." And More! Huang Jin, a quiet disciple with a sword made from beast bones, tried to overwhelm with strength. Lin Mu sidestepped once. "Your strength is enough to split mountains. But your feet are trapped by your doubts." Within hours, Lin Mu had faced twenty disciples. He never raised his voice, never rushed, and never flinched. His borrowed sword remained unchanged—but in his hands, it moved like a divine thread weaving fate. The audience no longer murmured in disbelief. Now they watched in reverent silence, as if witnessing a celestial dance. Above, in the Grand Pavilion Grand Elder Huo stroked his beard. "He’s not breaking their will." Elder Yan Dao smiled. "No. He’s sharpening it." By the time the sun dipped below Mount Sky Sever, Lin Mu had defeated nearly a third of the final hundred. But more than that— He had taught. Each loss became a lesson. Each duel an awakening. Each word he offered struck deeper than their wounds. And Lin Mu... though unaware of it, was getting closer to something. His heart stirred. His Sword Dao—still formless, not even embryonic—had begun to breathe. It had no shape yet. But it watched. And it waited. By the sixth day of the final trials, Lin Mu had defeated seventy-two of the one hundred finalists. Each duel had carved a deeper groove into the disciples’ minds—not of despair, but of reverence. They had all come expecting a fight. What they received instead was a lesson in swordsmanship, will, and the art of restraint. But now, the easy fights were over. Standing across from him now wasYu Minghe, a Fifth Stage Immortal Realm core disciple and the youngest to ever inherit theAzure Rift Sword Art, a legacy technique known for its dimensional slicing properties. Yu Minghe’s sword was longer than most, gleaming with Sword energy that warped the air around it. Even standing still, he exuded danger. Seeing the sword intent and energy, Lin Mu could feel inklings of Spatial Dao in them. ’Its rudimentary but it’s definitely touching upon them. He might not have an affinity to the Spatial Dao but this is as close as one could get to it with pure Sword Dao.’ Lin Mu thought. After all, it was not often, he got to face someone who had even the most basic insight into Space. As such, it was a valuable experience for him. Lin Mu stood with the same dulled steel training sword, held loosely in his right hand. No qi. No aura. Onlyintent. "I don’t wish to disrespect you, Senior Lin Mu," Yu Minghe said, bowing low, "but I will come at you with everything." Lin Mu offered a faint nod. "That is what I desire." The moment the words left his lips, Yu Minghe vanished. A burst of sword energy ripped through the stage, his sword lashing out from what seemed like six different directions—each one a spatial echo of the real attack. It was a technique meant to confound, bypassing even powerful senses. But Lin Mu didn’t move. Not yet. If he wished, he could easily predict where the attacks were coming from with his Spatial Perception. But he didn’t do that. Just like he had promised, he would only limit himself to the sword and sword intent. Then— Clang! With a step half-pivot and a subtle flick of the wrist, Lin Mu’s training sword met the real blade behind the spatial illusions. Yu Minghe’s eyes widened. ’He found the real strike on the first try?!’ The second wave came faster, the dimensional echoes weaving through the air like mirrored lightning. The space between them distorted, fragmenting the visual plane. And then Lin Mu’s swordmoved. A sharp hum echoed through the air. For the first time in the tournament,Sword Intentsurged visibly from his body. It wasn’t oppressive or violent—but like a lake turning to ice mid-motion. Controlled. Focused. Peak Sword Intent. The illusions shattered. Yu Minghe staggered back, his footwork faltering as Lin Mu took a single step forward. Clang! Clang! Two more strikes exchanged. The final one flung Yu Minghe’s sword spinning out of his grasp and embedding itself into the arena wall behind him. Breathing hard, Yu Minghe fell to one knee, clutching his chest—but he smiled. "That... was terrifying," he muttered. Lin Mu’s voice was steady. "You’ve trained well. Your control over space is extraordinary, considering you approach it from the perspective of the Sword Dao. But you focus too much on deception. Try facing forward instead of sideways next time." Yu Minghe bowed, sweat dripping down his brow. "Thank you... I will remember it." Next Contender: Zhu Lan, the Mirror Veil Blade Zhu Lan was known as the most refined sword artist in the sect. Her movements were soft, graceful, almost like calligraphy. Her style, theMirror Veil Blade, was deceptively defensive—every block became a counter, every dodge a deflection into lethal retaliation. She entered the ring silently, the crowd hushed. Her cultivation base was at the Fourth Stage of the Immortal Realm, but her sword mastery was on par with the strongest. The duel began with no words. Zhu Lan’s blade sang through the air in spirals, using pure technique instead of brute force. Her strikes flowed around Lin Mu, probing for weaknesses. Lin Mu’s blade moved like drifting snow, barely parrying her first few slashes. Then a feint caught him off-guard—a deliberate opening. He had to lean backward unnaturally, his feet sliding against the platform. The blow grazed his shoulder. Of course, there was no injury, but it was still a hit. The crowd gasped. The first strike landed on Lin Mu!