For a few breaths, all that remained on the floating platform was stunned silence—save for the rustle of the wind and the trembling hearts of hundreds of disciples.
Lin Mu stood on the raised dais, stunned.
Completely, utterly stunned.
He had expected many things upon joining this tournant—perhaps to test his skills, perhaps to witness new sword styles, perhaps even to sharpen his mind before attempting the Path of Sealed Swords.
But this?
Him? The examiner?
His brows furrowed, his gaze sweeping to Elder Yan Dao, then to the Grand Elder seated on the high platform. "...You must be mistaken," he said at last, voice calm but clearly conflicted. "Surely there are many more well-qualified, more experienced individuals than myself. I am a guest, and hardly one suited for such a responsibility."
The Grand Elder let out a low, rumbling laugh, his massive sleeves brushing the stone table before him. "And yet, Lin Mu, here you are."
More gasps followed.
The disciples were reeling. So gawked at Lin Mu in awe, others in horror, and a few—particularly the hopeful top contenders—looked as if the heavens had betrayed them.
"E-examiner? But the examiners are always elders!"
"Yeah! Even Inner Elders usually do the judging—never an outsider!"
"He’s not even part of the sect, is he?!"
"But... he topped every ranking..."
"He’s the Bearer of the Silent Lotus! Shouldn’t he be ditating in so holy cave?!"
The noise escalated.
Voices surged into a chaotic tide. The Floating Immortal Platform trembled not from spiritual force, but from sheer mortal anxiety.
And then—
BOOM.
A single clap of qi thundered through the air, echoing like a divine bell across the platform.
The Grand Elder’s voice rolled out like crashing waves. "Silence!"
The words, while not shouted, carried such weight that all the disciples imdiately stopped, their mouths frozen mid-sentence and their hearts skipping a beat.
His expression was stern but not unkind. "We understand your surprise," he said gravely, hands folded within his robes. "This is unlike past tournants. But that is precisely why we have made this choice."
He gestured to Lin Mu, who still stood silently in the center. "You’ve all fought under the eyes of the elders before. You’ve trained, perford, and dueled with your every move watched by those who have walked the sa paths for millennia—if not longer."
"Today, we offer you sothing else. A fresh perspective. A warrior who has not been molded by our traditions—but who has, despite that, carved his na into every record this sect holds sacred."
He leaned forward, his eyes glowing faintly with qi. "Lin Mu is not just a participant. He is a sword unto himself—a cultivator of Qi, Sword, and Dao. He brings wisdom from beyond the sect’s borders. And his observations... will be unclouded by favoritism or sect customs."
The crowd slowly began to settle.
A few murmurs still passed through the crowd, but many of the disciples began to nod, however reluctantly. The Grand Elder’s logic made sense, and more than that—Lin Mu had earned the right to judge them, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
Still, the person most confused remained Lin Mu himself.
He turned toward the Grand Elder and asked politely but firmly, "Then, may I ask, what exactly am I expected to do?"
"Am I rely to observe the duels and pass judgnt? Or is there... more?"
The Grand Elder’s lips curled into an amused smile. "Indeed, there is more."
He glanced toward the Elders seated behind him before continuing. "You will judge each match, yes. But not just based on victory or defeat. Your task is to observe the intent, heart, and sword of each disciple. To see their potential. Their growth. And perhaps even their flaws."
Lin Mu nodded slowly, absorbing this.
The Grand Elder’s eyes glead. "But more than that... we wish you to be the final test for those who rise to the top."
The crowd collectively inhaled.
"You an..." Lin Mu began.
"You will fight them," the Grand Elder confird. "If you choose to. You may challenge the top five contenders—or ten—or any number you deem worthy."
Daoist Chu nearly choked on his tea from the back. "Now this is interesting."
ng Bai looked horrified. "They have to fight Master Lin Mu? That’s not a tournant. That’s an execution."
Being Lin Mu’s disciple, ng Bai knew just what kind of a monster he was, even though he didn’t show it to most. But when he did, it was a bloodbath.
Daoist Chu knew this very well too, even better than ng Bai. After all he had fought alongside Lin Mu in the Bridge Plane and seen him slaughter millions of foes with the flick of a sword. No one here, perhaps not even the elders, except a few were his true match.
Lin Mu raised a hand slowly, still unsure whether he was hallucinating. "Let be certain—I will be judging matches, then fighting the best among them?"
Elder Yan Dao grinned. "Correct. Think of it as the final forge for their blades. A tempering fla to see if their steel can shine—or shatter."
There was a subtle silence afterward as Lin Mu’s mind ran through the implications. His presence wasn’t just symbolic. He was both observer and ordeal—judge and sword.
His lips pressed into a thoughtful line.
"I can choose how many I face?"
"Yes," the Grand Elder confird. "One, three, five, all ten. You may even choose to test them together if you prefer."
That made Lin Mu pause. He thought about the implications. Fighting one at a ti would allow him to see their individual potential clearly. Fighting many at once would test not only their strength, but their cooperation and adaptability.
He didn’t say anything yet—he would decide later.
For now, he simply bowed his head. "Then I shall take this responsibility seriously."
His voice was calm. But there was an unmistakable sharpness underneath it, like a blade being unsheathed without making a sound.
The disciples shivered involuntarily.
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