Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2857: Darkening Tides

Lin Mu sat beneath a plum tree, watching the petals fall as the spring breeze rustled the branches. Meng Bai was nearby, practicing a quiet breathing technique.

"I still can't believe the Mui Clan folded so fast," Meng Bai muttered. "I thought they'd at least try to resist."

"They're not fools," Monk Hushu who was meditating nearby said. "They saw the wrath of Dharma and realized their foundation was weaker than they believed."

Meng Bai stood beside them with the spear in hand, his expression a bit complex.

"Four emissaries arrived this morning from noble houses," he said. "Two seeking alliances, one bringing tribute, and one begging forgiveness for a past slight the monks don't even remember."

Lin Mu raised a brow. "And the temple?"

"The elders haven't decided how to respond yet. But they all look at you differently now."

Lin Mu sighed. "I didn't want this attention."

"You didn't ask for it," Monk Hushu agreed. "But power answers not to desire. It answers to fate."

There was a pause, filled only by the quiet hum of wind and the song of birds.

"You should be prepared," Monk Hushu added. "There will be others. Some will come with gifts. Others with knives."

Somewhere Far to the East – Hidden Cave Sect

A man in a cloak sat cross-legged before a flame, reading a spiritual transmission scroll. His eyes narrowed.

"So the old donkey reveals the wrath of Acala... and he even moves in broad daylight."

He looked over his shoulder.

"Tell the Bone Whisperers. The one we feared now walks openly."

A rasping voice echoed from the shadows.

"And the Ruyi? Still in his possession?"

"Yes," the man said grimly. "Looks like they kept it hiddedn all this time. But more than that... the temple no longer seems to be staying calm like they usually do. They have begun to show their power."

Back at the Green Lotus Temple the days had grown quieter.

The chaos brought by Mui Ran's insult and punishment had settled, but a tense reverence still hung in the air wherever Lin Mu walked. Monks bowed slightly, even the elders nodded with hidden respect, and younger disciples whispered his name with awe.

Yet Lin Mu did not feel pride—only a heavier burden on his back.

He sat alone in the courtyard, staring at a jade scroll in his hand.

It was from the Mui Clan.

Their final letter.

They had completely severed ties with Mui Ran, offered further reparations—including trade routes and three high-grade immortal herb fields—and formally invited Lin Mu to oversee the inauguration regional shrine they would now build in the temple's name.

This was not the first time something like this had happened, and the Mui clan had sent many such letters over the last week. Each time their offers increased, as if they couldn't help but empty out their coffers.

Such was the terror they felt.

It couldn't be helped though, as Lin Mu's reputation had already spread within the Lotus Prefecture. Many had heard him being called the Bearer. They didn't know what that meant, but the way the temple respected him showed that it was something great.

As such they knew he was the person they needed to please in any way possible.

Lin Mu sighed and handed the scroll to Monk Hushu as he approached.

Monk Hushu wondered what it was as he flipped it open, skimmed it, then chuckled. "Now they want to build a shrine? Perhaps next they'll offer their daughters and sons as attendants."

"They're afraid," Lin Mu said softly. "And fear makes men generous."

Hushu folded the scroll and slid it into his sleeve. "Or desperate."

Meng Bai entered from the corridor, his brows creased.

"Master, emissaries from the Northern Flame Pagoda arrived. They brought gifts—and a sealed letter. They requested to speak with the 'Heaven-Blessed Bearer' in person."

Lin Mu raised an eyebrow.

"The title's getting longer every day," Monk Hushu muttered.

Lin Mu stood. "Let them wait. I need to meditate first."

"But Master, they brought Immortal Turtle bone wine—!" Meng Bai tried.

"No," Lin Mu said. "Not yet."

But Lin Mu didn't knew that things were only getting more complex. While he was getting gifts, many others also had bad wishes in their hearts. Not only for the temple but also himself.

Elsewhere – Crimson Vine Province

A masked woman knelt before an altar of obsidian.

A figure loomed behind her, swathed in crimson-black robes. His aura was cold and slithering, like a serpent in winter.

"So the monks have unveiled their blade," the man murmured. "And they have a boy that they call the Bearer."

"Shall we act?" the woman asked. Her voice was steady, her spirit cold.

"No. Not yet. Let the world worship them a little longer. The higher the ascent, the more delicious the fall." The man replied. "The Ancestor of the Hidden Cave Sect has also told us to wait."

"But... the Ruyi. It's responding."

"I know," the man whispered. "Let it. The cycle must complete itself."

He turned toward the dark heavens.

"Once the Lotus fully blooms, we will scorch it at the root." The man spoke. "For now we shall scry further."

The air grew still as an unknown amount of time passed.

The hall was thick with incense and blood.

The masked woman remained kneeling. Her robes, black embroidered with silver vines, rustled faintly as a cold wind passed through the underground shrine. A dozen silver-hooded acolytes stood in the chamber's perimeter, chanting in a tongue lost to all but the oldest heresies.

Above the obsidian altar, an orb floated—murky and rippling with dark light.

Inside it, an image flickered: the face of Lin Mu, surrounded by monks, the aura of the White Jade Ruyi glowing faintly beside him.

"They have grown stronger," the woman said, eyes locked onto the orb. "The Lotus Temple has accepted him not as a guest, but as a root within its heart."

The crimson-robed man—his face still unseen—descended from the black dais.

"Good," he said softly. "Let them crown him with incense and praise. It will make the cut all the sweeter."

"He may become more than a vessel," she warned. "The Green Lotus Temple accepts him fully. Acala stirs in his shadow. If we wait too long, the Lotus might bloom too deep to uproot."

The man's hand rose—and the chamber fell silent.

"I have seen beyond this cycle," he said. "The Bearer is not a threat. He is a key."

The woman tilted her head slightly. "A key?"

"Yes," the man whispered. "To the Gate of Upheaval. To the Silence beyond Enlightenment."

He walked slowly to the altar, placing his hand on the cold obsidian. The orb dimmed for a moment, before flickering with a new image:

A battlefield drowned in lotus petals, stained red.

Monks and warriors clashed, cities burned in sacred fire, and a lone figure stood amidst the chaos—Lin Mu, wielding twin blades, surrounded by the wrathful echoes of a million souls howing while a devilish expression was on his face.

The woman's breath caught. "This is…"

"The vision of the fates," the man said. "He will open it, just as the last vessel failed."

"And if he resists?"

The man's voice lowered to a whisper.

"Then we will break him."