Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2992: The Sacred Grounds Beckon

Lin Mu continued to watch the sprout which swayed as if responding.

He could sense it now—this was only the beginning.

Whatever this plant was, it was something unique. It demanded vitality not just as nourishment, but as a foundation. A womb for something grand.𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

He couldn’t even begin to speculate what would emerge once it bloomed.

Was it a Dao plant? A legacy plant species from the heavens? Or something else entirely?

Lin Mu stood up slowly, his knees sore from the long meditation. His qi was low—dangerously low—but his spirit felt light.

And more importantly, his curiosity had been reignited.

The Sacred Grounds could wait a little longer.

Because now... another mystery had begun to grow.

With a long, final glance, Lin Mu dispersed his consciousness and returned to the waking world.

He sat once more in his room at the Jade Echo Retreat.

There was nothing more to do.

He took another sip of jadeleaf tea—still warm—and let out a quiet sigh.

”Now... I wait.”

And within the mountains, in the depths of the ancient formation that concealed the Sacred Grounds... a ripple stirred.

The spirit within had awakened.

A day later...

The wind whispered faintly across the cliffs of the Jade Echo Retreat, brushing through the tall blades of silvergrass and rippling Lin Mu’s robes where he stood, silently watching the horizon. His gaze was unfocused, his mind at ease yet alert, like the stillness before a storm. And then—he felt it.

A beckoning.

It was neither a voice nor a sensation he could name, but a calling from afar—ethereal, distant, and utterly unignorable. Something ancient and powerful was reaching out to him. Lin Mu’s eyes narrowed slightly as his focus sharpened.

”The Formation Spirit of the Sacred Grounds...” he whispered.

He could feel it with clarity now. This was no mere instinct. It was a direct resonance, a tug upon his soul and his sword heart. The call was gentle, not forceful—but firm in purpose, like an invitation from the heavens.

He turned his gaze toward Mount Sky Sever, the towering peak that pierced the clouds beyond the jade forest.

’So it really is there...’

He had long suspected the Sacred Grounds were located somewhere within or beyond Mount Sky Sever—just like the Path of the Sealed Swords. But now, he had confirmation. Activating his Spatial Perception, Lin Mu’s vision extended beyond sight and into the weave of space itself.

A subtle tremor.

A ripple.

At the very peak of the mountain, veiled behind layers of overlapping spatial folds, he saw it—a faint cluster of spatial disturbances, like cracks in a mirror too fine for mortal eyes to catch. They shimmered like dew upon spider silk, invisible to most, but to him it was clear: a spatial anchor had activated.

The connection to the Sacred Grounds had opened.

”Finally,” he muttered with a calm breath.

Without hesitation, Lin Mu took out a jade slip and infused it with a quick message.

”I’ve received the call. Heading to the Sacred Grounds. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”—Lin Mu

With that done, he sent it off to Meng Bai and Daoist Chu, then stored the slip away. There was no need for a dramatic farewell—only purpose remained now.

He turned toward the skies and launched himself upward, his form flickering through the air with ease. Sword Intent coiled around him instinctively, more an extension of his breath than a weapon.

As he climbed, the pressure of Sword Intent grew denser with every passing moment.

The air around Mount Sky Sever was unlike anywhere else. It was said that every inch of this peak had been carved, scarred, or marked by swords over countless eons. Some disciples even believed that the mountain itself was the fossilized blade of a fallen celestial—its truth long buried under myth.

The higher Lin Mu flew, the more intense the pressure became. The sword intent was so potent it would have lacerated weaker cultivators to pieces simply for daring to ascend this high. It was no wonder the area was restricted; even Core Disciples weren’t allowed near the summit.

But for Lin Mu, it was different.

With the Sword Heart Stage now residing within him, what others saw as a storm of death, he felt as a breeze of welcome. The blade-like winds of Sword Intent merely flowed around him like respectful whispers, parting in reverence as if the mountain itself recognized one of its own.

He crossed the final ridge, where the last remnants of stone gave way to a plateau capped in eternal snow. White frost blanketed the ground, sparkling like tiny stars beneath the pale sun, while the mountain’s peak seemed to pierce the veil of reality itself.

And there, waiting at the summit, was none other than Grand Elder Huo, dressed in a robe of deep blue embroidered with the mark of the Sect.

The old man turned with a serene smile, his single eye sharp as ever.

”It’s about time,” he said calmly.

Lin Mu landed beside him, the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet the only sound.

”There’s no one else,” Lin Mu observed.

”Only those who’ve passed the Path of the Sealed Swords may reach this height without... consequences,” the Grand Elder replied. ”You and I are the only ones fit to witness this for now.”

Lin Mu knew the other elders were busy with work, thus they couldn’t afford the time to come here.

Before them, in the air above the summit, a strange phenomenon was unfolding.

A spatial crack, thin and delicate, like the sliver of dawn breaking through an endless night. It was expanding slowly, tendrils of golden-blue light spiraling from its edges. Unlike most rifts, this one did not rage with unstable force. It was calm—solemn. A gate not of war, but of test and transformation.

The Grand Elder’s hands clasped behind his back, his gaze steady.

”The Sacred Grounds are opening to you, Lin Mu,” he said. ”From this point forward, no one can guide you. Not me, not the elders, not even your own master. Only the Formation Spirit will judge you now.”