"W-we’re going to have to impress him?"
"He’ll see everything..."
"Even our intent?"
"I-I can’t even fake confidence anymore."
The pressure in the air shifted. No longer was it a test to beat another disciple to rise in rank. Now... they had to face sothing even harder.
They had to prove themselves to Lin Mu.
The true sword.
The immortal who walked in mortal skin.
As the platform was prepared for the matches and the lots began to be drawn, a single truth settled in everyone’s heart.
This tournant... would be unlike any other.
The sun shone brightly over the Floating Platforms, illuminating the vast sea of disciples gathered around the enormous dueling ring at its center. A thousand spirit banners fluttered in the wind, each one representing a sub-division of the sect, and the anticipation in the air was palpable.
Over a million disciples had registered for this year’s tournant.
And the Xian Sword Sect would give every one of them their mont.
Unlike other sects where early matches were rushed through in clusters, with hundreds of disciples battling at once across separate arenas, the Xian Sword Sect insisted on one-on-one matches only, observed by all.
Each duel was an event, a story, a lesson.
And this tournant, already different by virtue of Lin Mu’s presence, was shaping up to be sothing extraordinary.
The first match began with two Outer Court disciples, neither more than Dao Shell Realm Cultivation base. Their swordplay was clumsy, their footwork shallow—but their hearts burned bright.
One of them lost after only a dozen moves, but Lin Mu stood up as the crowd began to murmur dismissively.
"The loser—Wen Fan," he said, his voice clear across the platform, "showed poor footwork, yes. But his recovery after each stumble was swift, and his grip did not shake even under pressure. A weak sword today does not an a weak Dao. He has a foundation. If he focuses on footwork and breathing exercises, he’ll make breakthroughs in less than a year."
The murmurs stopped.
Wen Fan, who had hung his head in sha, looked up—stunned and speechless.
Lin Mu nodded to him once.
From that mont onward, every disciple watched not only the fighters... but Lin Mu.
Over the next few days, the duels continued at a steady pace. They fought from morning until evening, then held small feasts, discussion circles, and Dao exchanges late into the night.
It wasn’t just a tournant anymore—it was a festival.
By the ti the first hundred matches had concluded, even the Outer Court disciples, who usually drew little attention, had beco minor celebrities. Their sword nas were being whispered, their mistakes analyzed, and their flashes of brilliance celebrated.
So of the notable matches included:
Match 37: Tang Zhuo vs. Mu Qing
Tang Zhuo, a tall, silent disciple wielding a heavy iron sword, faced Mu Qing, a graceful dual-blade user with a serpentine stance.
Their clash was a spectacle of power versus precision. Sparks flew as Tang’s brute strength t Mu Qing’s finesse.
Tang finally overwheld her with a crushing overhead strike, but Mu Qing’s evasion techniques dazzled the audience.
Lin Mu’s comnt: "Mu Qing’s swordplay was fluid as water—but water can carve mountains only when persistent. Tang Zhuo’s sword, though crude, had clarity of intent. If both of you rge your strengths with discipline, you could form your own Sword Dao Embryos in ti."
Match 42: Hong Yu vs. Liang Wei
Hong Yu, an Inner Court disciple, fought bare-handed using Sword Qi techniques from her fingers—an unorthodox thod that turned many heads.
Liang Wei used a wind-elent long sword style, fighting defensively but ultimately getting overwheld by Hong Yu’s strange rhythm.
Lin Mu’s comnt: "Hong Yu’s style is bold, but it will hit a bottleneck. Sword Qi expressed without a blade lacks the grounding of edge and weight unless one has exceeded their limits. Liang Wei, despite defeat, showcased excellent counter-tempo awareness. Train with soone who disrupts rhythm and you’ll grow."
Hong Yu’s eyes widened in realization, while Liang Wei bowed deeply in gratitude.
Match 50: Disciples of the Falling Star Lineage Duel
This was a highly anticipated match between two disciples of the sa master, both trained in the Falling Star Sword Art. Their moves mirrored each other so closely that spectators swore they were watching synchronized sword dancers.
The final blow ca when one adjusted the final slash by half a breath’s timing, allowing it to slip through the other’s guard.
Lin Mu’s comnt: "Sotis, walking the sa path makes you blind to its branches. If you both seek to surpass each other, take different routes from here on. Develop your own variations. The Falling Star Sword is only the start."
Lin Mu had yet to fight, but his presence hung over every match.
He sat at the central dais, occasionally walking down to observe closer. Despite showing no spiritual pressure, his gaze seed to cut through every sword movent like a whetstone on steel.
Many disciples found themselves sweating under his silent gaze.
The elders, sitting in their respective pavilions, watched with amusent and appreciation. Yan Dao chuckled after one particularly sharp critique from Lin Mu.
"He might beco a better teacher than half our instructors," he mused aloud, making several elders sweat about their job security.
Match 71: A Misstep and a Lesson
In one match, a disciple tried to cheat by using a hidden talisman. Before any elder could even react, a faint pulse of gravitational pressure from Lin Mu locked the disciple in place. The disciples and even the elders couldn’t figure out how he had done it.
Lin Mu didn’t raise his voice.
"Leave."
The disciple turned pale, dropped the talisman, and fled the platform with his head lowered.
Lin Mu turned to the crowd. "The sword is ant to be sharp, not stained. Let this be a warning. Fight with your heart. Or don’t fight at all."
The silence that followed felt like the mountain itself was listening. No one dared to speak a word, for they feared the consequences.
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