Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3065: Obtaining Detailed Information

Over the next half-hour, Lin Mu and the others stood as the elder laid bare every secret he knew.

The Hidden Cave Sect, he explained, was only one of many minor remnants—small cogs in a greater wheel. Their task had been to maintain underground watchposts, secret tunnels, and cache locations for resources and captives.

The true power lay with the Drowned Crescent Cult.

"They are no longer here," the elder confessed. "Their real base lies east of the Blackbone Sea, within the Crooked Abyss. An ancient stronghold built upon drowned ruins—tides and storms hide its location, but it exists. It is there they plan their rituals, raise their initiates, and feed their dark ambitions."

Lin Mu’s expression remained unreadable.

"And the Ephemera Sect?"

The elder paused, dread creeping back into his face. "...They’ve gone to ground. Their final retreat—deep within the Marshes of the Silent Skies. A place where even birds won’t fly, where the heavens forget to look. Only their most trusted know the way in. But I’ve heard whispers. Even we were not allowed entry—only to guard the paths leading there."

Daoist Chu frowned. "That marshland stretches for thousands of kilometers. How will we find the exact location?"

"We... we had maps. Some of the older sects passed them down. They were drawn centuries ago, before the area became... cursed." The elder swallowed. "You’ll find one hidden in the vault here. The password is carved on the underside of the altar."

Lin Mu gave a nod to one of the other elders, who left to search the ruined hall.

"There’s more," the elder continued. "The reason for all this... the blood harvest... it’s not just for power."

He looked up, eyes grim.

"It’s to feed the Ephemera Tree. The sacred heart of their sect. A divine parasite they nurture with blood essence and immortal qi. It absorbs the vitality of cultivators, mortals, and even beasts. In return, it grants boons—immortality, strength, and visions. But it requires thousands of lives. And so they... harvest."

Disgust curled Elyon’s lip.

"They intended to sacrifice even more," the elder said. "They were waiting for a large collection of human blood essence crystals. Enough to awaken the next stage of the tree."

Lin Mu’s brow furrowed slightly. His voice turned cold.

"And the two high elders of the Xian Sword Sect?"

The elder hesitated only briefly before nodding.

"They were taken by the Drowned Crescent Cult. Imprisoned in their deepest dungeons. Still alive—but only just. Their qi is sealed. Their blood essence preserved. They were too valuable to kill. The cult planned to use them as anchors during the ritual... to stabilize the flow of sacrificial qi."

A silence fell across the chamber.

Lin Mu closed his eyes for a breath.

Then, he opened them again—twin stars of frost and fire.

"...They will not die there."

Elyon felt it again—that shift in aura. The nurturing calm vanished like dew in the sun. A tremor ran through the ground, as if space itself was bracing for what Lin Mu intended to do next.

The Sword Dao whispered in the air.

Gravity stirred below.

And in the moss at his feet, the vines recoiled... only to curl protectively around him, like a forest sharpening its roots for war.

The reckoning was far from over.

With the veil of uncertainty finally lifted, Lin Mu stood atop a low ridge overlooking the ruined cult hideout, the wind stirring his robes as he surveyed the horizon in silence.

The truth had been laid bare. The pieces they had painstakingly gathered now formed a clearer picture, and the path forward had never been more certain.

They would head to the Blackbone Sea.

The name alone conjured images of bleak shores and forgotten tides, but it was more than legend now—it was their next destination.

"The Blackbone Sea lies east of the Ashen Forest," Elyonu stated, eyes gleaming with determination as he spoke to Daoist Chu, Lin Mu, and others at his side. "It was once part of the ocean... before the Great Emberfall."

He traced a finger in the air, a flicker of Darkness Qi forming a map of molten stone and shifting lands.

"Thousands of years ago, a colossal volcano erupted with such fury that it belched molten rock across the land, cutting off a portion of the ocean. The seawater boiled, evaporated, and in its place rose a basin of blackened stone and obsidian shores. The land swallowed the sea—but the sea did not forget."

Daoist Chu nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the conjured image.

"I’ve heard tales," he muttered. "Sailors say that beneath those black waves, bones rise with the tide. Ships vanish without a trace. Some even say it still breathes... like a beast that’s merely sleeping."

Lin Mu’s gaze narrowed. "The Crooked Abyss lies at its neck—a deep trench at the far end of the inland sea. The cult’s stronghold is hidden there."

Daoist Chu folded his arms. "It matches what we learned before. But now... we don’t have to search blindly."

Lin Mu gave a nod. The map shimmered before dissolving into the wind.

But before they could begin the journey, he turned toward the still-shackled survivors of the cult, their bodies weakened and limbs broken, now moaning softly in the distance. Their Vital essence had been stabilized, but they were far from recovery.

He raised a hand, fingers forming a quick seal, and a golden token pulsed in his palm. A communication talisman, linked directly to the elders of the Xian Sword Sect.

"Bring forces to Ash Crown City," he spoke into the talisman. "Survivors from the Drowned Crescent Cult and Hidden Cave Sect have been captured. Potential sources of intel. They’ll be held until you arrive. Do not let them escape."

The message shimmered into light before vanishing, carried across the qi-infused winds.

With the matter settled, Lin Mu turned to the prisoners.

"We take them with us," he said simply.

The journey to Ash Crown City was uneventful, but tense.

Lin Mu led the group with steady pace, his presence alone keeping the cultists subdued. Their fear had rooted itself so deeply, none dared to even whisper resistance. Elyon and the others followed, casting wary glances behind them, as if afraid the prisoners might suddenly vanish like ghosts.