Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3060: The Hidden Base Of The Drowned Crescent Cult

Their pursuit stretched across nearly two hundred kilometers of rugged, winding terrain.

The fleeing group never once paused, never once left obvious tracks. But Elyon didn’t need footprints or torn foliage. He needed only the shadows.

With every hour, the terrain became harsher. Towering peaks gave way to jagged ridges and narrow canyons that twisted back upon themselves. The air grew thinner, colder, filled with the iron scent of old earth. Here, mortal travelers would never tread.

”The rocks here... they’re strange,” Meng Bai noted, pressing a hand to a cliff wall.

Daoist Chu nodded. ”Dense. Heavily mineralized. My immortal sense can barely pass a few kilometers.”

”Same here,” Lin Mu murmured. ”It’s like trying to see through steel.”

”I’ll guide us,” Elyon said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

None of them questioned him. In these lands, the light was a liar, but darkness remembered. And Elyon could read that memory.

Through pitch-black tunnels, under collapsed arches and down steep, yawning chasms, they descended deeper and deeper into the mountain.

The natural caves soon gave way to carved ones—cut with careful purpose long ago. Pillars held up ceilings covered in crude murals, many defaced or worn down by age. Strange symbols—remnants of forbidden sects—decorated some walls. Others were scorched, as if burned during some past purge.

Hours passed, but Elyon never faltered.

Finally, as the last trace of natural light vanished behind them, they emerged into a colossal underground expanse. The scale of it made Meng Bai stumble to a stop.

”What... is this place?” he breathed.

It was an entire city, hidden beneath the mountains.

Cave dwellings, carved straight into the cavern walls, stretched in tiers up and down the dome-like interior. Stone walkways linked platforms and towers. Massive halls were embedded deeper into the rock, their entrances adorned with faded banners and warped bone-like decorations.

At the heart of the subterranean city stood a wide-open cavern, and within it, looming above all else, was a fortress. A castle, forged of dark gray stone, its towers jagged like thorns. Cold violet crystals pulsed weakly from the spires, their dim light casting long shadows that danced like specters across the cavern floor.

The entire place was deathly silent.

Not a single figure walked the streets. No guards, no workers, not even the flicker of life within the windows.

”Empty...” Meng Bai said cautiously. ”But it doesn’t feel abandoned.”

”It isn’t,” Elyon replied. He knelt and touched the cold ground, letting his energy flow into the stone. ”This was once a bastion of the Drowned Crescent Cult. It’s been reclaimed. Possibly recently.”

Daoist Chu stroked his beard thoughtfully. ”I can sense it too... Layers of old enchantments, masked by a new set of protective arrays. That castle—whatever’s inside, they don’t want it disturbed.”

Meng Bai squinted at the structure in the distance. ”Could everyone be inside? Are they preparing something?”

”Very likely,” Daoist Chu replied. ”The wards around the fortress are subtle, but potent. Spatial isolation, barrier reinforcement, detection wards... and something more. Something... corruptive.”

Elyon stood. ”I can infiltrate it. If I mask myself within the dark currents, I may reach the inner keep undetected.”

Lin Mu raised a hand.

”No,” he said flatly.

Elyon looked over, surprised. ”You don’t think it’s worth the risk?”

”It’s not about risk,” Lin Mu said, his gaze fixed on the castle. ”It’s just... unnecessary.”

Meng Bai blinked. ”You have another plan?”

Lin Mu’s voice was calm, but something within it thrummed with purpose.

”Yes,” he said. ”I’ve been meaning to test something.”

He stepped forward to the edge of the overlooking cliff, his back straight, one hand resting lightly on the hilt protruding from the sheath on his back.

Then he raised his right hand and pointed directly at the looming fortress below.

”Sword,” he spoke, his voice steady and clear, ”come.”

A silence fell upon the cavern.

Then, a sound like thunder cracked through the air.

The Sword Cradle Divine Sheath on Lin Mu’s back trembled—and from its depths, a brilliant flash of light erupted.

Afternoon Pine surged forth.

It shot from the sheath like a falling star reversed, its blade humming with power.

Sword intent—pure, refined, and boundless—exploded outward, cascading across the underground city like a tidal wave.

The ground trembled.

Dust blew back from every crack and corner. Crystalline fragments shattered from nearby spires, unable to withstand the resonance.

Afternoon Pine flew forward, not merely as a weapon, but as a declaration.

Within it surged the power of over a hundred trials—the will of the Path of the Sealed Swords, nurtured within the divine cradle forged by Lin Mu himself.

It had drunk from Lin Mu’s endless immortal qi, been tempered by his sword intent, and awakened in response to its master’s silent fury.

The blade cut through the air with elegance, yet beneath its beauty was terrifying intent.

It struck the barrier around the castle.

A brilliant flash of white light surged outward in concentric circles, as formation layers activated in rapid succession—shields, anti-spatial runes, cursed deflections, and more. The air screamed as they tried to resist.

Then—shatter.

One barrier cracked.

Then another.

And another.

Within moments, a dozen protective layers collapsed like glass before a hurricane. Afternoon Pine hovered midair, point aimed at the highest spire of the fortress, trembling with energy.

The castle didn’t fall... but it shook.

Windows shattered from pressure. Stone walls groaned as ambient qi was forcibly torn apart. Alarms began to wail—ancient tones echoing through the vast cavern as awakened defenses sprang to life.

And still, no figure emerged.

Lin Mu’s eyes narrowed.

”Still hiding,” he said. ”Then we’ll knock again.”

Afternoon Pine answered his will and began to glow once more.

Elyon turned to Meng Bai, awestruck. ”That... that was just a call. Not even a strike.”

Meng Bai grinned. ”I think this time, Master’s done being polite.”

Daoist Chu gave a low chuckle. ”Well then. Let’s see how long this den of rats can hold before it crumbles.”

As the fortress trembled under the weight of a single unsheathed will, Lin Mu stood motionless.

For now, it was a warning.

The next time?

It would be war.