Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2884: Tracking The Clues From The Token

Dugu Ciu nodded. "I found this piece two years ago in the ruins of a village wiped out in the northern province. No survivors. Not a trace of energy left, as if everything had been erased."

Hearing that Lin Mu furrowed his brows as he thought about it. The attacks of the strange cultivators had begun a few years ago and had originally been in the Lotus Prefecture.

'Did they start there and spread here or did it start elsewhere?' Lin Mu wondered.

"Is it a sect emblem or something else?" Meng Bai asked.

"I don't know yet but I believe it's part of a cult. I've read old records from tens of thousands of years ago during the time of great conflicts. There were many such cults back then." The elder replied grimly. "They don't follow conventional cultivation paths. From the few clues I gathered, their practices involve emotion suppression, invasive mind control, and—possibly—body modification."

Lin Mu's eyes narrowed.

"They operate like parasites. Using bait, trickery, and illusions to spread their influence. And they target small sects, merchant clans, and isolated regions. Always avoiding detection."

Meng Bai scowled. "Just like what happened to us in that last city."

"Exactly," Lin Mu said. "This confirms it."

Elder Dugu picked up the bronze token with a pair of forceps and held it toward Lin Mu. "Take it. You may be able to trace its origin with your Immortal sense."

"I will," Lin Mu said. "And I'll find whoever is behind this."

As Lin Mu accepted the token, he could feel a faint, twisted echo of Qi within it—like a whisper buried under layers of rot. It was weak, but not dead.

The hunt had begun.

Lin Mu began his search rather quickly, scanning the token and finding the trace of the foul energy within. Having learned and tempered his understanding under many foes like the Withered Spirit Daoist before, Lin Mu had gotten used to tracking such energies.

The faint Qi trace from the bronze token was like a whisper on the wind—fragile, easily lost, yet enough for Lin Mu's spiritual sense to grasp. With Meng Bai and Little Shrubby waiting behind under Elder Dugu's care, Lin Mu followed the thread with quiet focus.

He didn't wish to take Meng Bai along as he was still weak and didn't want to open him to danger in case he made a mistake or there was a large ambush waiting. He also left behind Little Shrubby for Meng Bai's protection in case anything happened.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the Hawk Eye Sword Sect, he simply didn't want to leave Meng Bai alone as they were still in a foreign land and Meng Bai lacked experience.

The pulse led him away from the sect, drifting southeast, toward a ravine where the land dipped into forested gullies and rocky cliffs. The place was far from any road or town, hidden in a hollow that even beasts avoided.

It took him nearly a day to reach it as he scoured through the lands following the traces.

Lin Mu descended from the sky, his robes rustling with the breeze as his feet touched the mossy earth. Tall trees crowded the narrow path ahead, and the energy here felt... stale. Like blood soaked into dry soil and left to rot.

He walked in silence, eyes scanning, until his spiritual sense pulsed again.

There—beneath a low ledge covered by hanging vines—was a hidden entrance.

With a flick of his hand, the vines withered and fell away. The tunnel beyond led into darkness, but Lin Mu didn't hesitate. His steps echoed softly in the stone corridor as he moved through the oppressive silence.

He reached a wide cavern after several minutes. Torches flickered along the walls, and the air stank of iron and incense.

Within stood five figures in black robes.

Their hoods were drawn, faces hidden, but Lin Mu immediately recognized the aura they gave off: subtle fluctuations of corrupted Qi, twisted and unfamiliar.

They turned the moment he stepped inside.

One of them hissed, "You followed the mark..."

Lin Mu didn't respond. He simply stepped forward having already assessed their strength.

'All at the Third Tribulation Stage of the Immortal Realm.' Lin Mu thought to himself.

"You're not the first," another said, voice strange and guttural. "But you may be the last."

With a sudden cry, two of them lunged forward, twin blades flashing from their sleeves.

CLANG!

Lin Mu's swords, Afternoon Pine and Ocean Raker were drawn in a blink. A single sweep of his blades knocked both aside, sending them skidding back.

The third figure raised their hand, releasing a wave of dark red Qi shaped like spears.

Lin Mu's brows narrowed. He rotated his sword, flicking a spiraling crescent of sword Qi that shattered the incoming attack and exploded against the attacker's shoulder, sending them crashing into the cavern wall.

He didn't stop.

A burst of movement, and Lin Mu was in their midst, blade dancing with efficient precision. The corrupted cultivators fought with vicious strength and unorthodox moves—body-enhancing arts, strange footwork, and sudden spurts of toxic Qi—but Lin Mu was a storm they could not withstand.

Within seconds, two lay unconscious, and one had a gaping wound across his chest.

The fourth figure, seeing this, began to chant something under his breath. His body started trembling, Qi spiraling out in waves. His blood began to boil visibly under his skin.

Lin Mu sensed it instantly thinking he might be using some explosive skill to self destruct. He had seen this trick many times before.

"Not this time!"

He dashed forward, aiming to knock the man out, but he was half a second too slow.

The cultist let out a final scream—

SHLORP!!

—and his body melted into a crimson pool of thick, steaming blood.

"Damn it." Lin Mu frowned, his spiritual sense sweeping the area. The same thing was happening to the other two—whatever failsafe they carried had triggered, their life force feeding a self-destructive art.

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