Chapter 3007: Cost Of The Summoning - Walker Of The Worlds

Upon hearing the Patriarch’s words, Lin Mu’s mind reeled back to the great sword that stretched through the void... the blade that had carried him through the Sacred Grounds, and had watched in silence all the while. It had chosen him. But the Patriarch was not finished. "Understand this, Lin Mu," he said, his tone now edged like tempered steel. "Calling upon the Spirit will not be without cost." "Its power is ancient. Older than the sect. Older than most things in the Immortal Realm. I do not know what it will demand of you in return—because no one has ever been granted such authority before." He let the weight of those words hang for a moment. "What I do know is this—even Transcendents would fear its strike. The strength of the Xian Sword Spirit lies not merely in destruction, but in complete, unrelenting severance. If it were to unsheathe itself... nothing would remain." Lin Mu’s lips parted slightly in astonishment. "It could kill Transcendents...?" "Not just kill," the Patriarch whispered. "Erase. Sever the thread of their existence from the world’s loom." Lin Mu felt a cold wind brush past him despite the sunlight. "Then... I can’t use it lightly," he said. "No," the Patriarch agreed. "You must never use it lightly. Even if it means death—yours or others—you must weigh the consequences. For when you call upon it... it will heed you, no matter where you are. No matter how far." "And if you call it without cause..." the Grand Elder added, "...you may destroy not just your enemies, but your friends. Your companions. Even yourself." Lin Mu lowered his gaze, letting that weight settle into his bones. He was silent for a long time. But when he looked up again, his eyes were calm. "I understand." "Good," the Patriarch said, leaning back. "Then we’ve done what we needed to." He stood, the sunlight catching in the white lines of his beard. "This generation of swordsmen will be yours one day, Lin Mu. But not yet. For now, walk your path. Let the sheath guide you. Let your will sharpen further." He turned, disappearing into the shadows of a nearby hall. Grand Elder Huo stayed behind for a moment, giving Lin Mu a long look. "It’s not a light thing... to be chosen," the old man said. Lin Mu nodded. "I didn’t ask for it." "No," Huo smiled faintly. "Which is why it chose you." And with that, Lin Mu was left alone at the summit, the winds whispering softly through the ancient pine trees, and the weight of a power older than legend resting quietly upon his back. After his meeting with the Sect Patriarch and Grand Elder Huo, Lin Mu descended from the residential summit and returned to the familiar courtyard of the Jade Echo Retreat. The air was still fresh from the rains of the previous evening, and the faint scent of pine resin hung beneath the haze of morning dew. There, waiting as if sensing his return, were his companions. Daoist Chu sat cross-legged on the stone platform with a tea kettle warming by his side. Meng Bai was in the middle of formation practice, his sleeves rolled up, sweat trickling down his brow as glowing runes flickered in the air. And lounging in various corners of the courtyard were his four tamed beasts—Ashy, perched on a rooftop with wings half-spread in lazy dignity; Xiao Yin and Xiao Yang, coiled in an intertwined spiral on a stone pillar, and Little Shrubby, who was happily chewing on a spiritual herb bush that had been "accidentally" planted near the well. As soon as Lin Mu stepped into the courtyard, all eyes turned to him. Or rather—to the massive sheath on his back. "Master Lin Mu!" Meng Bai was the first to shout, bounding toward him with an excited grin. "What in the heavens is that thing?! It’s... it’s massive! And it looks way too important to just be a sheath!" Daoist Chu stood as well, brows raised in rare curiosity. "That’s no ordinary Dao Embryo, is it?" Lin Mu gave them a small smile and gestured for them all to sit. "Let’s talk," he said, "but fair warning—this might be a little hard to believe." A few moments later, they were seated on the stone floor, a circle formed naturally around Lin Mu as he slowly explained what had occurred inside the Sacred Grounds—from the sword’s edge path, to the trials, to the destruction of the monolith, and finally to the appearance of the Sword Cradle Divine Sheath. When he mentioned the name, Daoist Chu’s brows furrowed in concentration. "I’ve read countless scrolls and records in the Immortal Court’s libraries," he said after a pause, "but I’ve never come across a Dao Embryo by that name. Nor one that behaved like that." Ashy let out a low whistle and said, "It smells ancient. Older than this world. Older than many heavens. And very, very picky." Lin Mu didn’t know how the bird’s judgement was accurate, but it was close to what he had heard anyways so he didn’t mind. "It is," Lin Mu said. "It rejected all other Sword Dao Embryos. It chose me... and it doesn’t seem to tolerate anyone else." Meng Bai’s eyes sparkled with unrestrained excitement. "Can I touch it?" Lin Mu blinked. "I... don’t know what will happen, but I suppose you can try." "Heh! It’s not like I’m a weakling or anything. I can handle a little rejection!" Meng Bai laughed and reached out boldly. The moment his palm brushed the sheath’s smooth surface— BOOM! A pulse of invisible energy exploded from the sheath, launching Meng Bai into the sky like a comet shot from a bow. "GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Daoist Chu’s mouth opened in shock. "By the heavens!" Lin Mu’s eyes widened as he watched Meng Bai arc upward nearly five hundred meters, his body spinning wildly. "Shit!" Meng Bai was airborne for only a moment, but his trajectory was clear—he was about to fly straight off the mountain’s edge. Without flight or a means to slow down, he was going to crash.