The procession lasted nearly three hours.
By the ti both sects finished their displays and settled into the city, Three Union City felt fundantally changed. The air itself seed heavier, infused with the presence of so many powerful cultivators gathered in one place.
The sects were escorted to massive palace complexes near the city center. These were old noble estates from the Butterfly Kingdom era, long since seized and repurposed by the three kingdoms. Entire districts were cleared and sealed off for their use.
From that mont on, activity in the city surged.
Competitions began almost imdiately.
Martial competitions drew crowds, though Lin Mu kept Cattaleya firmly away from participating.
"No," he said flatly when she expressed interest.
She crossed her arms. "Why not?"
"Because you would end it in ten seconds," Lin Mu replied. "And then we would have every eye in the city on us."
She considered this, then sighed. "Firstly, it would only take a second. But fine... you owe food."
"A lot of food," he agreed.
They compromised and watched instead. And Cattaleya's excitent drained quickly.
"This is it?" she said, unimpressed, as two cultivators clashed in the arena. "This is the best they can do?"
Lin Mu nodded. "Compared to the Martial King World, yes. It's... modest."
She snorted. "That's being generous."
Still, not everything bored her.
The cultural competitions held her interest.
Dance performances, musical duels, Poetry slams, gas of chess and strategy played with formation-enhanced boards that reacted to every move.
The formation competitions were particularly engaging.
Two formation masters would face off, constructing arrays in real ti, attacking and defending simultaneously. It resembled a living chessboard, formations clashing, collapsing, reforming as each tried to outmaneuver the other.
ng Bai watched these intently, eyes sharp.
"I could do that," he whispered once. "At least... so of it."
Daoist Chu nodded. "You could. But it would draw attention." ng Bai sighed. "I know."
Alchemy competitions were simpler but no less intense.
Participants were given identical ingredients and tasked with either producing the fastest viable pill or crafting the most complex pill possible using deliberately weak materials. Success depended on precision, understanding, and efficiency rather than brute skill.
Lin Mu watched with mild interest, noting techniques, shortcuts, and mistakes. Nothing truly new, but always sothing to learn. But when he compared it to the alchemy knowledge he had obtained from the soul of the Withering Spirit Daoist, he found it quite weak.
Though they still placed bets... quietly.
Not the reckless, overwhelming, bank breaking wagers of the past, but
asured ones.
Six wins out of eight.
Enough to cover their expenses comfortably.
Enough to keep them entertained.
And so the days passed.
The city thrumd with anticipation.
Banners were raised. Streets were decorated. Rumors multiplied faster than Lin Mu could track.
In two weeks, the alliance wedding would begin.
Even ng Bai felt the excitent.
"I've never seen a wedding before," he admitted one evening, leaning against a balcony railing. "That too six at once."
Lin Mu smiled faintly. "Then this will be an interesting first."
Yet beneath it all, Lin Mu felt sothing else.
A subtle unease.
The kind that ca from too many powerful factions gathering in one place. From old grudges buried under smiles. From ambitions hidden beneath
ceremony.
He could not point to a single cause.
No clear threat.
Just a feeling.
A tightening in his chest, faint but persistent.
"This won't stay peaceful," he murmured to himself as he looked out over the
glowing city.
He did not know how.
He did not know when.
But he was certain of one thing.
Sothing was going to happen.
And when it did, Three Union City would never be the sa.
The days continued to pass, one after another, each filled with noise, color, and
celebration.
And yet, Lin Mu could not shake the feeling.
It lingered like a thin thorn lodged sowhere deep in his mind. Not painful enough to distract him constantly, but sharp enough that he could never forget
it was there.
Nothing happened.
That was the most unsettling part.
There were no disturbances, no assassinations, not even any suspicious
fluctuations of Qi.
Elyon moved through the city like a ghost, slipping into shadows, listening, watching, vanishing before anyone noticed him. Each ti he returned, his
report was the sa.
"Nothing unusual," he said. "The sect delegations are behaving. The kingdoms are paranoid but orderly. No strange movents, no covert etings I can
trace"
Lin Mu nodded every ti, thanked him, and still felt no relief.
Xukong's voice echoed faintly in his mory.
The higher your cultivation, the more you resonate with the Dao itself. When sothing disturbs its flow, you feel it before it happens.
It was not prophecy or clairvoyance. It was alignnt with the will of Dao itself. And Lin Mu was aligned enough now to know that the calm was fragile.
Even his Sword Cradle Divine Sheath agreed.
When Lin Mu focused inward during ditation, he could feel it. A subtle
tension in the sheath, like a sword humming faintly in its scabbard. Not a warning directed at him, not a cry of imminent danger, but an awareness.
Sothing was moving beneath the surface.
Sothing sharp.
And worse, it was not aid at Lin Mu.
That made it more dangerous.
After what ng Bai had suffered, Lin Mu had developed a near-instinctive
vigilance toward anything connected to the Dead Needle Abyss. Large gatherings were their hunting grounds. Noise, chaos, and shifting loyalties were
perfect cover.
He had already imagined the worst possibilities.
They would not need to target him.
Not directly.
Killing one of the brides.
Assassinating a groom.
Triggering panic during the ceremony itself.
All it would take was one carefully planted trail of evidence pointing in his direction, or worse, pointing toward the beast kin or just Elyon, and the three
kingdoms would turn hostile instantly.
Lin Mu could survive that.
But surviving was not the sa as escaping unscathed.
The teleportation array was still under the control of the three kingdoms. If
they wanted to delay him, they could do so for months. Years, even, under the
excuse of "investigation."
So he endured.
He paced himself.
He sat cross-legged in his room, windows open to the humid air, chanting the
Calming Heart Sutra again and again, letting its rhythm smooth the ripples in
his mind.
Outside, the city grew louder.
Five days remained until the wedding.
User Comments
0 comments from readers