Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3257: On The Precipice Of The Final Battle

A month passed in steady, methodical silence.

The final stretch of preparation had been the most demanding, yet it was also the most fulfilling. The once empty alchemy hall and its surrounding compounds had transformed into a massive assembly ground for artifacts of extraordinary scale and purpose.

Over a hundred Death Obscuring Chandeliers now stood in precise formation within the reinforced storage grounds, each one gleaming faintly with suppressed power.

When viewed from above, they resembled colossal lotuses of dark metal, their symmetrical branches humming with life. The faint runes etched into their surfaces pulsed in rhythmic patterns, drawing in ambient energy and holding it in equilibrium, further extending the life of these tools.

The faint buzz of their harmonized resonance filled the air, almost musical to those sensitive to spiritual vibrations.

Lin Mu stood in the center of it all, gazing upon the results of months of relentless work. Every single chandelier represented the effort of hundreds of cultivators, forgers, and formation masters who had labored without rest.

His own hands bore faint marks and calluses from days spent assembling, aligning, and stabilizing the countless arrays. This was despite his tough physique, showing just how tiring it all was.

Yet when he saw the vast rows of completed artifacts, he felt a quiet satisfaction rise within him.

He had even prepared more than what was required. Some chandeliers were meant as reserves, replacements in case of unforeseen loss or damage. In the end, there were one hundred and seventeen completed chandeliers, enough to support an army exceeding one hundred thousand cultivators.

Each chandelier could sustain the Death Obscuring Array over a wide radius, ensuring that the immense army would remain hidden from the malignant energies lurking within the Marshes of Silent Skies.

It was a scale of unity and preparation that the continent had not seen in millennia.

The final battle would be fought not by every cultivator, but by the elite among elites. Only the most powerful and experienced from the three great powers were to step foot into the Marshes themselves.

The weaker cultivators, no matter how eager, were not permitted to join. Lin Mu had been firm about this, and the leaders of the other factions agreed without question.

There was no reason to throw away lives.

The marshes were not a place for the unprepared. The enemy that lay hidden there, the remnants of the Ephemera Sect were far beyond ordinary comprehension. Only those who had reached the pinnacle of strength would have a chance of surviving what awaited.

Thus, while the elite task force prepared to enter the marshes, the rest of the continent mobilized for another purpose entirely.

The disciples of the Xian Sword Sect, the monks of the Silent Lotus Temple, and the soldiers of the Darkhan Dynasty would remain scattered across the lands, ensuring stability and security. They would maintain the peace, safeguard civilians, and ensure that no chaos spread in the absence of their leaders.

But this great endeavor was not limited to the three major powers alone.

From the far reaches of the continent, even the unorthodox sects and neutral factions had risen to the call. Centuries of grudges, rivalries, and blood feuds were momentarily buried beneath a single cause... the survival of their world.

Lin Mu’s message and actions had inspired both respect and fear. The display of cooperation between the major powers had proven that this was no mere campaign, but the final stand against something that threatened every living being.

The Smoldering Rock Union, known for its merchant fleets and influence in mercenary guilds, pledged its resources and manpower. Their skilled engineers and artificers assisted in mass-producing structural components for the chandeliers, while their alchemists refined stabilizing oils and inscriptions.

The Great Burden Monastery, famed for its insight into the Gravity Dao fate, contributed defensive sutras to bolster the barrier arrays that would protect the army.

The Hawk Eye Sword Sect, volunteered their scouts and specialists to monitor the borders for signs of enemy movement.

And there were more. Small sects, hermit clans, and wandering cultivators all joined the unified effort.

For the first time in living memory, the world was not divided by creed or ambition.

When everything was ready, the time for words had passed.

The day of departure came beneath a heavy gray sky. The land that bordered the Marshes of Silent Skies stretched endlessly toward the horizon, blanketed by a ghostly fog that never fully dispersed.

Even from afar, one could feel the oppressive weight of the place. The air itself was thick with foul energy and the scent of decay. No beast dared to approach, and even plants near the perimeter seemed frozen in half-death, their leaves blackened with spiritual corrosion.

Standing at the forefront of the assembled army were the leading figures of the three great powers.

Lin Mu stood in silence, his robes rustling faintly in the wind.

Beside him were the Patriarch of the Xian Sword Sect and Grand Elder Huo, their expressions solemn but unwavering. To Lin Mu’s right stood the Abbot of the Silent Lotus Temple, radiating serene calm despite the gloom that surrounded them.

Near him, the Elder Ice Drake loomed nearly a hundred meters tall, having transformed into his beastly form for this battle, his translucent scales reflecting the dim light like shards of frozen glass.

And then there was the final figure... the Emperor of the Darkhan Dynasty himself.

This was Lin Mu’s first time meeting the Emperor in person.

The man was regal, his bearing calm but suffused with restrained power. He was a Transcendent, a cultivator who had surpassed a common immortals limits, though he had only achieved that level five thousand years ago.

Compared to the ancient monsters who had lived for tens of millennia, he was still young. Yet even among such giants, he stood proud.

When his gaze met Lin Mu’s, a faint ripple of discomfort crossed his face.

Though the Emperor’s cultivation was technically higher, there was something in Lin Mu’s presence that made the air itself bend around him. A quiet, imperceptible pressure that reminded one of standing before a divine mountain... immovable, absolute, and utterly commanding.

In that moment, the Emperor understood why so many bowed to Lin Mu’s will.

It was not authority that compelled obedience, but the weight of conviction.