Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3549: A Missing Voice

Lin Mu looked at the Saintess.

”In the Jianghu,” she continued, ”might often decides truth. Morality without strength is ignored. Overwhelming power opens doors that eloquence never will.”

She met his gaze steadily.

”You acted decisively. You prevented greater bloodshed by ending resistance swiftly. Had you hesitated, far more lives would have been lost.”

Lin Mu closed his eyes briefly.

Xukong’s words echoed in his mind, reinforcing her statement.

When he opened his eyes again, the unease that had lingered within him for days finally began to fade.

Yet as calm returned, a new thought surfaced.

One voice had been missing.

Lin Mo.

That realization made Lin Mu’s brows knit together.

In moments like this, Lin Mo should have been loud, mocking, encouraging excess. He should have been pushing Lin Mu to go further, to crush harder, to revel in dominance.

And yet.

Silence.

Not a single word.

Not a whisper.

That absence felt... wrong.

Lin Mu’s gaze drifted inward, toward the depths of his soul.

”What are you planning now?” he murmured to himself.

For the first time since the conflict ended, a different kind of unease crept in.

Not doubt.

But anticipation.

After the Saintess took her leave, her presence dissolving as quietly as mist under morning light, Lin Mu remained seated for several breaths longer. The mobile courtyard was silent, the spatial channel humming faintly around it like a distant tide.

Only when he was certain she was gone did Lin Mu close his eyes and turn inward.

His consciousness slipped past layers of thought, memory, and sensation, descending into the familiar expanse of his mind space.

The illusory world there was unchanged. A vast, formless void stretched in all directions, lit by a dim, colorless glow that had no discernible source. And there, suspended in midair, sat Lin Mo.

The devilish man was cross legged, floating without effort, his illusory robes unmoving. His eyes were closed, expression uncharacteristically calm.

Lin Mu paused for a moment, studying him.

He had never understood why Lin Mo insisted on sitting like this. The man had no physical body here. There was no gravity to resist, no posture to maintain, no fatigue to ward off. And yet, he always chose to appear seated, as if cultivating like a mortal or an immortal would.

Lin Mu stepped closer.

Lin Mo did not react.

That alone was strange.

”O.O”

Lin Mu frowned slightly and moved closer still. Only when he was a few steps away did Lin Mo finally speak.

”Go away,” Lin Mo said flatly. ”I’m busy.”

Lin Mu blinked.

’Busy?’

That was new.

”Busy doing what?” Lin Mu asked.

Lin Mo opened one eye and glanced at him, irritation flickering across his face.

”The same thing you’re doing,” he replied.

Lin Mu’s brows knit together, but then understanding dawned.

”...You’re feeling it too,” Lin Mu said slowly.

Lin Mo snorted and closed his eye again.

”Of course I am,” he said. ”You think I’d miss something like this?”

Lin Mu’s heart skipped slightly.

Enlightenment. Or at least, brushing against its edge.

Lin Mo continued, his tone far more serious than usual.

”You touched something when you went all out with water,” he said. ”Not just brute control. Not just volume. Its flow, its weight and its properties..”

Lin Mu listened carefully.

”And because we’re the same existence,” Lin Mo continued, ”that opening didn’t belong only to you.”

Lin Mu inhaled slowly.

”What are you comprehending?” he asked.

Lin Mo opened both eyes now, crimson light flickering within them.

”A new form,” he said.

Lin Mu’s eyes widened.

”The Disaster Sword?”

Lin Mo’s lips curled upward into a sharp grin.

”What else?”

Shock rippled through Lin Mu.

The Disaster Sword was already terrifying. Four forms, each one more destructive than the last. Each one embodying calamity rather than technique. The fourth form alone was something Lin Mu reckoned could match multiple of his Great Slaughter Pine’s power.

And now a fifth?

”That’s...” Lin Mu started, then stopped.

”Strong?” Lin Mo finished mockingly. ”Of course it is.”

He leaned back slightly, still floating cross legged.

”And don’t look so surprised,” Lin Mo added. ”There was never a chance I’d fall behind you.”

Lin Mu stared at him.

”We’re one and the same,” Lin Mo continued. ”Your growth is my growth. Your path sharpens mine. Did you really think I’d just sit around making snide comments forever?”

For a moment, Lin Mu did not know what to say.

Lin Mo waved a hand dismissively.

”Now go,” he said. ”You’re distracting me.”

Lin Mu hesitated, then nodded.

”Fine,” he said. ”Don’t blow up my mind space or something.”

Lin Mo scoffed.

”As if I’d mess up my home.”

With that, Lin Mu withdrew his consciousness, the mind space fading as awareness returned to his physical body.

His eyes opened.

He felt lighter.

Not because his burdens had vanished, but because his doubts had. The Saintess’s words, Xukong’s reassurance, and now Lin Mo’s focused silence all pointed to the same truth.

He was moving forward.

Lin Mu stood up and stepped out of the room.

Outside, the mobile courtyard was bathed in soft light from the spatial channel. Meng Bai was already training, beads of sweat on his brow as he manipulated water into shifting shapes. Streams twisted, split, rejoined, then collapsed under his imperfect control.

Opposite him stood Daoist Chu, arms folded, calmly observing.

”No,” He said. ”That was hesitation. Feel the flow, do not force it.”

Meng Bai gritted his teeth and tried again.

Lin Mu approached quietly, then spoke.

”Your intent is too rigid,” he said. ”Water yields before it conquers.”

Meng Bai turned, surprise flashing across his face.

”Master Lin?”

Lin Mu stepped closer, gesturing at the floating water.

”Do not think of it as something to command,” he said. ”Think of it as something that wants to move.”

He extended a finger, and the water responded instantly, flowing with effortless grace.

Meng Bai’s eyes widened.

”So that’s how...”

”Again,” Lin Mu said.

Meng Bai nodded and resumed, this time adjusting his mindset. The water trembled, then flowed more smoothly than before.