Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2926: Pondering On A Word

"This can’t be coincidence," Lin Mu said quietly. "They’re not just hiding in that valley—they’re using it. Or maybe they’ve built something beneath it."

"A hidden sect fortress?" Meng Bai offered.

"Or a domain of their own," Daoist Chu said grimly. "If the valley contains spatial distortion and the cultivator’s note about a second sky is true, they may have carved out a dimensional pocket inside the valley itself. A kind of hidden realm."

"Like a folded pocket within the world," Lin Mu muttered. "No wonder no one can find them."

"But what about the word ’Ephemera’?" Little Shrubby asked. "Why would a crazy man keep saying that over and over?"

Lin Mu set the scroll on the table. "That’s the part I still don’t understand. Could be a person. Could be a technique. A place. A code."

"Could be all of them," Meng Bai added with a shrug.

Daoist Chu stroked his beard again. "There is one possibility. In some archaic texts, the word ’Ephemera’ refers to fleeting manifestations of the world—phantoms, illusions, or spiritual residues. In Buddhism, it’s the idea that nothing is permanent, and everything is a shadow."

Lin Mu blinked. "You think the word might describe... the phenomenon itself?"

"Or the Hollow Eye Sect’s cultivation method," Chu replied. "Imagine a sect that cultivates phantoms, ghostly illusions, or even uses ephemeral energy as a weapon. They’d be nearly impossible to trace or track. And any survivor might not even be sane after confronting them."

The group fell silent for a moment, each absorbing the implications.

Little Shrubby quietly leaned against Lin Mu’s side. "Are we... going there?" he asked, voice small.

Lin Mu looked down at his little companion and nodded solemnly.

"Not now, we still lack information. But perhaps later... Whatever the Hollow Eye Sect is doing... it’s tied to that valley. To the madness. And to this word."

He turned to the others.

"We must find more information before we leave for the Shadow Whisper Valley."

The inn was quiet by midnight. A single lantern hung from the beam above Lin Mu’s room, casting soft golden light over the writing desk, the closed windows, and the mat he sat cross-legged on.

Yet Lin Mu wasn’t meditating.

He stared at the scroll he’d set on the table—the report of the madman rescued from Shadow Whisper Valley. His mind repeated the word like a mantra.

Ephemera.

What did it mean?

It was clearly important enough for the man to cling to it, even through madness. And Daoist Chu’s explanation lingered in Lin Mu’s thoughts. Shadows. Illusions. Fleeting truths.

But was that all?

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"I’ve gathered so many records... too many, in fact," he muttered.

Dozens of scrolls, old tomes, travelogues, and ancient philosophy texts filled one entire section of his spatial ring, untouched since he’d begun his current investigations. Perhaps, just perhaps... something in them mentioned this strange word.

With that thought, Lin Mu’s mind sharpened.

In a breath, he sank into a meditative state, and in the next, his consciousness dove into the ring’s space.

—

The world around him changed in a blink.

He stood now in the spatial realm of his ring—a vast open expanse the ends of which cannot be seen. Rushing streaks of silvery Spatial energy drifted in the distance, while spiritual lights floated like fireflies in the twilight atmosphere.

Lin Mu stepped forward, and his first gaze went to the far side—where a large cocoon of spatial threads hovered in midair like a wrapped star. Spirals of translucent energy rotated slowly around it in rhythmic pulses.

"Master..." Lin Mu whispered.

Xukong, his mentor and guide, had encased himself within this spatial cocoon several weeks ago. Lin Mu had suspected it was related to his next breakthrough.

He approached quietly.

The cocoon shimmered gently, like a mirror catching starlight. Within it, he could faintly sense immense, boundless power swirling like a sea. No sound. No movement. But something deep and vast was occurring within—beyond his comprehension.

"Still cultivating," Lin Mu murmured.

He could tell his master was safe—but so completely immersed in spatial law that waking him might delay whatever metamorphosis was underway.

With quiet reverence, Lin Mu bowed, then turned away and walked deeper into the heart of the ring space.

Soon, he arrived at the Ethereal Altar.

The altar floated above a raised platform of mystical energy. It was simple, elegant—a multi-sided monolith glowing faintly with multi-colored light. As he drew near, the six energies stirred like greeting old friends.

Each sutra resonated like a tuning fork in his soul:

The Calming Heart Sutra, with its gentle golden aura, suffused the space with a tranquil peace. The energy of Buddhist serenity, reminding him of the monks and their quiet, unwavering strength.

The Severing Heart Sutra, cool and sharp like moonlight on a blade, echoed the Sword Path—a pure and emotionless clarity, a clean cut between will and doubt.

The Burning Heart Sutra, flickering with crimson-black flames, pulsed with the chaotic power of the Demon Path—an unrelenting flame that consumed everything in the name of power.

The Nurturing Heart Sutra, soft green and pulsing with beastly rhythms, channeled the wildness of the Beast Path—a rhythm of growth, of bond and instinct.

The Murdering Heart Sutra, dark as ink and radiating cold cruelty, fed from the Devil Path—a hunger for control, conquest, and the endless dance of life and death.

And now, a new energy, gentle and light as rain on leaves.

The Healing Heart Sutra, glimmering in hues of fresh sap and golden sunrays, completed the hexagon. Its essence was compassion—nature’s healing, not through purity or fire, but through growth and restoration.

Lin Mu stood before the altar, gazing at the harmony and contradiction in these six truths.

"It reacted when I obtained the Healing Heart Sutra," he said quietly, fingers grazing the altar’s edge. "But it didn’t give me the sutra. I found it outside."

That hadn’t happened before.

Each of the other five sutras had emerged from the altar—gifts unlocked as he advanced, or when his cultivation aligned with a particular truth.

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