Walker Of The Worlds Chapter 2919– A Probing Conflict

Chapter 2919: A Probing Conflict

Mingshi's smile did not fade. He bowed politely, turned, and rejoined his table at the edge of the gathering, where his followers stood silent as statues.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Meng Bai whispered, "I don't like him."

"You have good instincts," Daoist Chu replied. "Something's off."

"That robe," Lin Mu added. "The symbol… it wasn't the same as the corrupted ones we fought, but it was close. Too close."

Little Shrubby growled quietly under the table.

Across the hall, the music resumed—louder this time, as if to erase the awkwardness of the moment. Performers returned to the stage, and new platters of food were brought out by anxious servants trying to restore the mood.

But the room didn't quite relax.

Not fully.

Everyone had felt it—that moment when peace threatened to crack.

The music carried on, but the festive rhythm no longer stirred the crowd with the same ease. The subtle tension Elder Mingshi had brought with him lingered like the aftertaste of bitter tea. Guests resumed eating and speaking, but always with one eye on the edge of the courtyard, where the Hollow Eye Sect remained seated, untouched and unnervingly still.

Lin Mu stirred his wine cup, observing the sect leader from across the room.

"He's watching everything," he muttered. "Not just listening—watching."

Daoist Chu leaned forward. "And he hasn't eaten a bite."

Before Lin Mu could respond, the atmosphere shifted again.

This time, it wasn't subtle.

A chilling wind swept through the hall, snuffing out several of the spirit lanterns overhead. The ornate silks that hung from the wooden beams fluttered as if touched by unseen hands, and the temperature dropped just enough to draw goosebumps from the uninitiated.

The dancers on stage froze, eyes wide.

A scream tore through the crowd.

Then another.

Lin Mu's eyes snapped toward the gate.

From the rooftops above and the walls encircling the banquet grounds, dozens of black-robed figures dropped like shadows. Their faces were covered in dark bone-white masks, twisted into grotesque expressions of agony and ecstasy.

The cultivators among the guests reacted instinctively, weapons flashing, shields forming—but the attackers moved with uncanny speed and silence, darting among the crowd like phantoms.

"Protect the guests!" the head of the Golden Scales Merchant Union shouted, drawing his glaive. "To arms!"

The courtyard erupted into chaos.

A masked attacker lunged at a noblewoman with clawed hands brimming with corrupt black qi, only to be intercepted by Lin Mu's sword in a flash of cold steel.

CLANG!

The impact cracked the stones beneath them, and the masked attacker let out a warped hiss before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

Daoist Chu unsheathed a pair of short sabers, his movements fluid and deadly as he engaged two enemies at once. "These aren't normal assassins. Their qi is unstable!"

Meng Bai summoned his spear and swung with surprising force, knocking one of the masked figures into a wine stand, shattering it into splinters.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the chaos—Elder Mingshi sat unmoved.

One of his masked guards leaned toward him.

He raised a single finger.

"Do not interfere," he said softly. "Observe."

The Hollow Eye Sect obeyed without question, remaining seated even as guests screamed and blood was spilled mere steps away.

Lin Mu noticed it immediately.

"They're not even pretending to help!" he growled.

"They're letting it happen," Daoist Chu shouted back, cutting down another attacker. "This is orchestrated!"

A masked figure landed in front of Lin Mu, this one larger than the rest. Unlike the others, his mask bore a crude crimson eye painted across its surface—thorned and bleeding.

Lin Mu's eyes narrowed.

"You…"

The figure didn't respond. Instead, he let out a guttural growl and slammed both palms into the ground. Black veins of qi erupted from the floor, warping the nearby tables and turning the stone tiles into sickly sludge.

"Clear the guests!" Lin Mu shouted.

He leapt forward and met the attacker head-on, his two swords flashing with silver light of his sword intent. Every strike he landed caused sparks and ripples of distortion to erupt across the corrupted figure's body.

"Little Shrubby!" he called.

The beast roared and transformed into his larger combat form, his fur bristling with crimson fire. He charged through the enemy lines, biting down on two attackers and flinging them across the courtyard like ragdolls.

More defenders rallied now. Several sect cultivators and nobles recovered from the shock and began organizing resistance.

But the damage had already been done.

The ground was littered with overturned platters, broken instruments, and wounded guests. A dozen or more lay unconscious—or worse.

Lin Mu clashed swords with the crimson-eyed figure, their battle dragging across the banquet floor. He finally saw his opening and swept his leg under the figure, knocking him off balance before plunging a blade into his chest.

Instead of blood, black vapor erupted from the wound.

The figure convulsed—then dissolved into smoke and sludge.

Gone.

"Just like the others…" Lin Mu murmured.

The attackers, seeing their leader fall, began retreating. They didn't scatter—they vanished, all at once, melting into the shadows they had come from.

In mere seconds, they were gone.

Only silence and destruction remained.

Guests stood in shocked clusters, bleeding and gasping. Healers rushed forward. The Golden Scales Merchant Union guards began taking stock of the damage.

And Elder Mingshi? Still seated, calmly sipping from a cup of untouched tea.

Lin Mu marched across the courtyard, stopping just before the man's table.

"What was that?"

Elder Mingshi looked up with the same faint smile. "An unfortunate incident. But I assure you, it has nothing to do with us."

"You just sat there. Your people just sat there."

"Indeed," Mingshi replied smoothly. "We were guests. We assumed the hosts had it under control. It would be rude, wouldn't it, to interfere in another sect's affairs?"

Daoist Chu appeared behind Lin Mu, face tight with restrained fury.

"If I find out you're lying—"

"I'm sure you'll do what you must," Mingshi said. He rose from his seat, adjusting his sleeves. "But now, I believe our presence is no longer welcome. We shall take our leave."

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