Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2812: An Unscheduled Arrival

”An unscheduled arrival?”

”How is that possible?”

The formation masters began muttering in confusion.

”Where did they come from?”

”The coordinates say Osteri Divine World.”

”That world?” One of them blinked in disbelief. ”But there havenʼt been any new arrivals from there for over a month. Werenʼt their teleportation arrays shut down for maintenance?”

”And yet… here they are.”

All eyes turned to Lin Mu and his companions, suspicion heavy in the air.

Meanwhile…

”UGH!” Meng Bai doubled over. ”Why is it worse this time? I even took the pill…” he groaned, stomach churning.

Seeing the groupʼs silence, the cultivators prepared to move forward.

It was then that Monk Hushu stepped forward, hands calmly at his sides.

”Amitabha,” he intoned softly. ”Lay down your arms, brothers.”

His voice, calm and resonant, brought a wave of pause to the tense scene.

One of the guards blinked. ”Those robes…”

Whispers spread.

”The Green Lotus Temple…”

Recognition dawned on their faces.

They had not been expecting this.

The tension in the air didnʼt vanish entirely, but it softened—like a taut string slowly loosening.

The mention of the Green Lotus Temple had changed everything.

The guards whoʼd been seconds away from attacking now stood frozen, exchanging glances. Their grip on their weapons loosened, and several of them slowly sheathed their swords.

It was as if the presence of Monk Hushu had shifted them from strangers to… possible allies.

One of the cultivators stepped forward, bowing respectfully.

”We had no prior notice of your arrival, honored ones. Please, forgive the precaution.”

Monk Hushu returned the bow with practiced grace. ”It is only natural. You are simply performing your duty. We have arrived through… unusual means.”

Daoist Chu nodded and added with a smile, ”Letʼs just say the road we took had a few detours.”

There were a few chuckles from the younger cultivators, though the older ones still eyed the group with quiet curiosity.

A different man stepped forward now—a senior by his robes and the distinct formation compass hanging at his belt.

”Youʼve come a long way,” he said, scanning them with a mixture of scrutiny and wonder. ”If you truly came from Osteri, I suspect you have a tale to tell.”

”Oh, several,” Lin Mu replied, adjusting his sleeves. ”But first… could we get a place to rest?” he asked seeing Meng Baiʼs condition.

”Preferably one that doesnʼt have spinning walls.” Meng Bai groaned in agreement, clutching his stomach. ”And a floor that doesnʼt move would be great.”

The cultivators chuckled again.

”Very well,” the elder nodded. ”Come. Weʼll take you to the guest pavilions. The Lotus Prefecture will want to hear of this—especially if a Monk of the Green Lotus Temple is among you.”

The group exchanged glances, saying nothing.

The Saintess remained hidden, her presence veiled behind a technique even Lin Mu could barely sense. For now, it was best that her identity remained concealed.

As they followed their new escorts deeper into the Silent Lotus World, Lin Mu felt the shift in the air—familiar yet foreign. The Qi was richer here, refined. The pressure was different, the silence deeper.

A new world.

A new stage.

The group followed their escorts in silence, footsteps echoing softly against the stone path.

As they exited the narrow gate chamber, the scenery opened up—and with it, the weight of travel seemed to lift from their shoulders.

The Silent Lotus World lived up to its name.

A serene stillness blanketed the landscape. Mist floated gently over mirror-like ponds, their surfaces perfectly undisturbed, reflecting the pale violet sky above. Lotus flowers—some the size of dinner plates—bloomed in shades of white, blue, and soft jade, drifting across the water as if moved by invisible hands.

The architecture was graceful and understated. Curved bridges arched over narrow streams, leading from pavilion to pavilion nestled between groves of bamboo and flowering trees. White cranes waded lazily in shallow water, unbothered by the newcomers. From a distant hill, the chime of a bell rang once—calm and melodic.

Even the air here felt different. It was cool, crisp, and carried the faint fragrance of sandalwood and spring rain. Compared to the chaotic turbulence of the teleportation channel, it was paradise.

”This place…” Meng Bai whispered, eyes wide. ”Itʼs like walking into a painting.”

Lin Mu silently agreed, taking it all in. The peaceful atmosphere soothed the edges of his battle-hardened awareness. Even the ever-present hum of ambient Qi felt more... cultivated, as if the world itself had been taught how to breathe in rhythm.

Their escorts led them down a stone pathway flanked by miniature waterfalls and into a circular courtyard. At its center sat a large guest pavilion, its roof tiled in soft blue and wrapped in wisteria vines.

”Please make yourselves comfortable,” the elder said. ”This is the Water Lotus Pavilion. It is reserved for honored guests of the Lotus Prefecture. Refreshments and tea will be brought shortly.”

With a polite bow, he left them in the care of a few quiet attendants.

The group stepped inside. The interior was no less refined—polished floors of dark wood, silk cushions arranged around low tables, and carved screens depicting scenes of cultivation and nature. A breeze flowed through the open walls, stirring the hanging lanterns that glowed with a soft golden light.

As they each found a seat, a tray of tea arrived—delicate porcelain cups, steam rising in elegant curls from the surface.

Lin Mu took a sip and closed his eyes briefly.

Peace.

It had been a long time since heʼd felt this kind of stillness. Not the silence of anticipation before battle, nor the cold emptiness of void space—but true, gentle quiet. The kind that made one feel small in a good way.

Daoist Chu broke the silence first. ”Well. Weʼve made it.”

”Barely,” Meng Bai muttered, rubbing his temples. ”I feel like I left half my soul back in the teleportation channel.”

Monk Hushu chuckled. ”And yet you still managed to walk this distance before throwing up. Quite the progress.”

The boy groaned. ”Please donʼt remind me.”