Chapter 2969: Reverence and Restraint
Silence.
A silence so profound it rang louder than any applause ever could.
The great arena, the heart of the Xian Sword Sect, which had roared and thundered for over two months straight, now held its breath.
Lin Mu stood still.
The final remnants of golden sword leaves and blue ocean mist drifted gently around him, fading like dreams. His robes fluttered in the aftermath, not a speck of dust on them. Afternoon Pine and Ocean Raker rested in his hands like extensions of his own soul.
And Elder Yan Dao stood opposite him, bowed low, blood at the edge of his lips, body trembling but proud.
"An Emperor indeed," he murmured.
Then, with effort, he turned and walked awayânot in defeat, but in acknowledgment.
A man who had touched the edge of a storm and lived to tell the tale.
With the Elderâs departure, the disciples finally began to react. The stupor from the awe-inspiring fight finally ceasing.
The first gasps came from the outer ring.
Then the inner.
And soon a wave of stunned murmurs spread like wildfire.
"He didnât even use his full strength..."
"That pine treeâwas that even a sword technique or a divine manifestation?"
"Did you see the ground? Itâs... melted... without even fire..."
Some disciples had gone pale.
Others were flushed, eyes shining with fervor, excitement, or even... adoration.
A group of female disciples clutched their hearts, unable to hide the way they were looking at Lin Mu now.
"A sword immortal... and handsome..."
"I want to follow him!"
"Him standing there... itâs like heâspart of the heavens!"
Meanwhile, the senior male disciples couldnât decide whether to admire or despair.
"I trained for three thousand years... and I canât even follow the path his sword traced."
"Itâs not fair. But itâs beautiful."
Even the proudest core disciples could only bow their heads in solemn respect. Many were silent, their pride not shattered, but tempered. Forged anew.
"This is what we must reach toward," said one.
"Even if we must chase him until the end of our lives."
While the disciples were mostly awed, the Elders had mixed emotions.
The elders seated near the Grand Elder were quiet, stunned, thenâone by oneâthey smiled.
A High Elder leaned over to another.
"When was the last time you saw Elder Yan Dao sweat like that?"
"Never. Not even during his own Tournament all those years ago."
Another murmured,
"He didnât evenusehis body cultivation. That golden light... it was just a fraction."
"He still has more qi techniques, doesnât he?"
"...He does."
"Yeah... Now that I think of it, he didnât use any Dao Skills... Not even his Sword Dao Embryo." They still didnât know that Lin Mu hadnât even made his Sword Dao Embryo.
A chill passed through them all at that quiet truth.
In all this though, the Grand Elder was exhilarated... and cautious
At the peak of the elderâs seat, Grand Elder Huo stared down at the battlefieldâhis eyes gleaming with something that hadnât appeared in decades.
Pure, unfiltered excitement.
He wanted to leap from his seat. To draw his own sword and face Lin Mu right then and there.
The sheeritchto clash blades with someone so bright, so sharp, so untamedâit was overwhelming.
His fingers trembled slightly, brushing against the hilt of his own blade. A smile curved his lips.
"To think... we have someone likethatin the sect right now."
"To cross blades with him would be..."
Then his eyes turned to the field.
The scars on the earth.
The shattered inner layers of the defensive array.
The lingering aftershock of Sword Intent that had yet to settle.
Despite the triple reinforcement, the arenaâs barrier was flickering.
Formation pillars hummed like overworked furnaces.
Even the seats of the outer arena had faint cracks in them. Entire swathes of the viewing terraces had been emptied by shockwaves. Disciples had to be shielded by other elders.
A deep breath filled the Grand Elderâs lungs.
He calmed his racing heart.
"No... not here."
"If I fought him... and used my true strength..."
He gazed outward toward the sectâs vast mountains and tall peaks.
"Weâd lose a division of our sect. Maybe more."
"That duel must happen... but only in a wasteland, far from disciples, far from heritage sites. Where no legacy could be destroyed."
He leaned back in his seat and laughed softly.
"Ah, how long itâs been since I felt like this..."
"Not since I fought the Sword Duke of the Northern Immortal Court..."
While the Grand Elder was reminiscing, Lin Muâs companions were also coming to terms with the results.
At the edge of the seating area, Meng Bai, the young disciple, sat tensely on the seat, wide-eyed, mouth slightly open.
"Master... youâre really... just not human."
Nearby, Daoist Chu wiped sweat from his brow.
"Iknewhe was strong but... that? That was a performance fit for the heavens."
Far away in the sky, even the Saintess, calm as ever, had to adjust her veil, hiding the flicker of emotion in her eyes.
"This man... really does make fools of the worldâs expectations."
As the cheers and discussions finally eruptedâ
As disciples shouted his name and sword cultivators cried tears of inspirationâ
As young ones bowed, as elders whispered and sect legends pondered in silenceâ
Lin Mu simply sheathed his swords.
His eyes scanned the broken arena, the awe-struck crowd, and the Grand Elderâs gleaming gaze.
He gave a slight nod.
And then said, humbly,
"I thank everyone for allowing me this exchange."
"Let it be not just a display... but a seed."
"May it grow into swords sharper than mine."
Thus ended the Sword Ascension Tournament.
Not with just a victorâbut a myth in the making.
Lin Mu, Bearer of the Silent Lotus Temple, dual-sword wielder, sword Emperor in the making, stood atop the sect not by decree or promotionâbut by the unanimous awe of his peers.
A storm had passed.
But another was surely coming.
And the world would rememberâ
The man who fought a peak elder with bare hands.
The man who turned sword skills into landscapes and oceans.
The man whose legend had just begun.