Walker Of The Worlds Chapter 2999: The Great Sword’s Protest

The Great Sword made of Formations hovered silently in the air, humming with incomprehensible power. And for the first ti, it moved—not under Lin Mu’s control, but of its own volition.

"What are you doing?" Lin Mu asked, his voice caught sowhere between awe and alarm.

The sword offered no answer.

Instead, it surged forward like a beast roused from slumber.

With a single sweep of its blade, it cleaved through the air—and one of the nearby Sword Dao Embryo images was shattered.

Like shards of porcelain, the image scattered into motes of silver light.

Another swing. Another sword embryo vanished.

The surrounding lights—the sword concepts, each a legacy of profound truth—trembled and scattered like frightened birds.

They fled.

Yes, fled.

Lin Mu watched in stunned disbelief as the vast constellation of Sword Dao Embryos dissipated into the void, vanishing one after another under the pressure of the formation sword’s presence. None dared to challenge it. None dared to remain.

It was as if the sword declared: You are not worthy.

"...Why?" Lin Mu muttered, staring wide-eyed. "What are you doing?"

No answer ca. Only more destruction.

In re monts, every last Sword Dao Embryo was gone.

The sky above the monolith turned still and dark.

Silence reigned, and Lin Mu stood alone once more—with only the runic greatsword before him.

"What now...?" he wondered aloud.

The massive blade slowly floated to the monolith that towered in the center of this domain—the very symbol of the trial. The structure that had summoned the sword lights and posed the question of his place in the Sword Dao.

And then, without ceremony, the sword began to shine again.

Runes on its surface ignited in sequence, spreading across its body like a tidal wave of starlight. The surrounding space rumbled. A storm of power surged, and for the first ti, Lin Mu felt genuine fear.

"This isn’t right," he muttered, stepping back. "This... this could destroy the trial space entirely. The Formation Spirit—"

But before he could finish, the sword swung.

A single, descending arc.

An ancient strike, so profound that ti itself seed to halt.

The monolith was split apart in absolute silence.

No tremor. No shockwave. Just quiet destruction.

The severed halves hovered briefly, before crumbling into ash and dispersing into the ether.

Lin Mu held his breath, stunned beyond words. Was this... allowed? Had the trial just been broken?

But then, a low sound echoed through the air.

A chuckle.

Soft. Ancient. Amused.

Lin Mu turned his head sharply, but saw no figure. Only the space itself seed to vibrate with the amusent of sothing unseen.

The Formation Spirit.

So it was watching.

And it was not angry.

As the dust settled, sothing began to rise from where the monolith had once stood.

A new object.

Not a sword. Not a blade. But a sheath.

It was vast—larger than any weapon Lin Mu had ever seen. As wide as a carriage, and as long as a house. Its surface was smooth and unadorned, a dull matte black like stone. There were no carvings, no embellishnts, no symbols. It looked... plain.

And yet...

The aura it exuded was heavier, deeper, and more profound than anything Lin Mu had ever encountered. Even the Astral Severance Sword—offered to him by Daoist Star Slayer himself—could not compare to this. The sheer depth of the intent radiating from it made the hair on Lin Mu’s arms rise.

He stepped forward unconsciously, drawn by the sheath’s presence.

"This is not just a Dao Embryo..." Lin Mu whispered. "This is sothing else entirely."

The runic greatsword floated above the massive sheath for a mont, then slowly descended into it. The blade, despite its size and complexity, fit perfectly within the seemingly empty space.

A click echoed across the void.

And Lin Mu understood.

This was not the ti to choose a sword.

This was the ti to carry it.

A sword that the world could not yet bear.

A sword waiting for its true ti.

And he—Lin Mu—was its sheath.

The protector of a blade beyond comprehension.

As the great sword settled within the vast and ancient-looking sheath, a profound stillness blanketed the floating world. The air, heavy with Sword Intent re monts ago, now felt like the pause between thunderclaps—silent, but crackling with potential.

Lin Mu stood unmoving, his gaze fixed on the titanic sheath before him. Sothing had shifted. Sothing imnse.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him what this ant. The knowledge poured into him as naturally as water flows into a waiting vessel.

The great sword had found its place.

And he... he was to carry it.

Almost instinctively, Lin Mu raised his right hand. His palm glowed faintly, Sword Intent swirling like silver smoke around his fingers. The massive sheath before him—its presence more divine than anything he had felt before—responded.

With a gentle hum, it began to move.

There was no resistance. No fanfare. No booming proclamation from the heavens.

Only silence, reverent and expectant.

The sheath glided through the air like a falling star in reverse, pulled toward Lin Mu’s extended hand. And as it neared him, it began to shrink.

From a structure larger than a building... to the size of a table... a sword... a hilt... and finally—a marble.

A small, obsidian sphere that shimred with ancient runes and patterns that only the soul could perceive. A quiet, perfect weight in the center of his palm.

Lin Mu stared at it, eyes wide with solemn understanding. Then, without hesitation, he placed the sphere against his chest.

And it vanished into him.

The mont it entered his body, Lin Mu felt a shock ripple through every ridian, every inch of his cultivation pathways. It was not painful—rather, it was like his body had been waiting for this completion, this key to unlock sothing that had been long dormant.

The orb of black light surged downward, traveling through his ridians in his chest, then into his organs until finally reaching his Dantian.