Walker Of The Worlds-Chapter 2956: The Ghost on the Sword Rankings

While Lin Mu was pondering on his Sword Dao, the disciples of the sect were pondering on something else entirely these past few weeks.

By the thirtieth day, the Sword Rankings had become less of a leaderboard and more of a shrine.

The disciples of the Xian Sword Sect—inner court, core disciples, and even a few robed elders with too much free time—now made routine pilgrimages to the Hall of Achievements. Every time they entered, their eyes went straight to the largest section of the wall: the Puppet Sparring Rankings.

And there it was.

A name now etched in jade-gold script that pulsed faintly with immortal light:

Lin Mu — Rank 1 on all Sword Style Rankings (Sixth Stage)

"Who is he!?"

That question had become the most repeated phrase in the sect in the last few weeks. From outer court kitchens to the mountain-top tea pavilions, the name Lin Mu had spread like a wildfire on a windy summer day.

They called him many things.

"The Sword Phantom."

"The Blade Ghost of Sky Sever."

"The Sleepless Sword."

"The Sect Founder’s Reincarnation."

Each new nickname added another log to the bonfire of gossip. And no one seemed interested in putting it out.

One group of disciples swore they saw a man in white robes vanish into the mist outside the puppet hall without a sound. Another claimed they’d spotted an old sword scar across his face—proof that he was a veteran warrior come to retread the path of sword mastery.

A particularly imaginative young woman insisted she’d glimpsed glowing eyes under his hood and suggested Lin Mu was not even human.

"Maybe he’s a construct created by the sect to motivate us," one disciple whispered dramatically, clutching a jade talisman like a holy relic. "A sentient sword puppet forged by the Grand Elder himself." freēwēbηovel.c૦m

"Nonsense," her senior brother replied with equal conviction. "He’s a rogue genius from a hidden Sword Domain. He’s come here to challenge our sect’s legacy!"

"He’s probably over ten thousand years old and disguised as a young man!"

"He doesn’t even eat Immortal food. He survives by meditating with his blade!"

"I heard that when he fights, the sword sings by itself."

Each day brought fresh theories.

Some even accused Elder Yi Feiyan of secretly raising him as his successor, hidden from the world until the right moment. Others speculated that he was a wandering sword saint who’d simply chosen the Xian Sword Sect to be the next forge for his legend.

There were even poetic proclamations nailed onto message boards:

"The sword does not bow to age, nor time, nor realm. The sword bows to Lin Mu."

It didn’t help that no one could find Lin Mu among the outer or inner court registries. There were hundreds of disciples with ’Lin’ and ’Mu’ their names, but none matched the ghostly presence whose records had shattered every expectation.

The Sword Rankings had always been prestigious but largely static. Those who made the top ten were usually the same familiar names—the up-and-coming geniuses, the senior brothers and sisters who taught lectures, the proud heirs of noble sword lineages.

But now?

Now there was a new king on the hill—and he had built his throne with sheer technique alone.

No Qi skills.

No flashy Dao techniques.

Just raw swordsmanship.

And that scared people.

Because if someone like that could appear without warning, without legacy, without title, what did that say about everyone else?

Even within the Core Disciple Circle—normally aloof and confident—rumors spiraled like whirlwinds.

"Do you think he’ll join the tournament?" asked Senior Disciple Ji Wen, twirling a talisman nervously in his fingers like a fidget toy.

"He must," replied another. "Why else would he train so hard with the puppets?"

"But what if he doesn’t?" muttered a third. "What if he just... leaves after this? Like some sword god testing our generation and finding us lacking."

The thought sent a collective shiver down the spines of even the proudest swordsmen.

Some tried to debunk it.

"He’s probably just lucky."

"Maybe the puppet formations were malfunctioning."

"Or maybe he’s peaking early. A candle that burns twice as bright..."

But those excuses melted away the moment Lin Mu’s times were seen.

Two minutes.

Two minutes to defeat a Sixth Stage Puppet using pure sword and sword intent? That wasn’t luck.

That was monstrous talent.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even show up to brag.

No grand declarations. No lectures. No new robe or special weapons. Whoever Lin Mu was, he clearly didn’t care for recognition.

That made it worse.

The unknown was terrifying. And Lin Mu had become the embodiment of it—a sword-shaped question mark hanging over the heads of every disciple in the sect.

In the outer court, a young disciple named Ping Rui began an unofficial record sheet called "Lin Mu Watch." Each day, he recorded any unusual movements near the puppet halls, sightings of sword cultivators with unfamiliar faces, or gossip overheard in the mess halls.

Within five days, his scroll had three hundred entries and counting.

Of course, no one knew that they were looking at the wrong puppet halls in the first place.

He sold copies of it, of course.

Business was booming.

One elder had even tried to confiscate it before deciding it was too entertaining.

Some brave disciples tried waiting outside the puppet hall to catch Lin Mu in the act—but no one ever saw him leave. It was as if the man stepped through shadows, emerged from walls, or perhaps lived inside the formation itself.

It was a Daoist mystery.

Sword myth.

Cultivation enigma.

Whatever the truth, the conclusion was the same:

Everyone wanted to see him fight.

When the date of the once-a-century Sect Assessment Tournament was officially announced, the cheers were thunderous—but immediately followed by nervous murmurs:

"Will Lin Mu participate?"

"If he does... what chance do we have?"

"Do you think he’ll go easy on us?"

"Please say he won’t draw lots in my bracket..." Someone even prayed to all the deities they knew of.

New novel chapt𝒆rs are published on free(w)ebnovel(.)com