Chapter 3477: Leaving A Memorial
Chapter 3477: Leaving A Memorial
Lin Mu considered the request for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"That sounds reasonable." Lin Mu reckoned it was decent compensation for destroying part of the Inn.
The staff exhaled in relief and excitement.
Lin Mu stepped toward the small hill behind the inn’s reception hall. It was little more than a gentle rise of stone and soil, previously unremarkable. He raised his hand, and water gathered instantly, condensing into a translucent palm that shimmered in the sunlight.
SHUA
From that palm, a brush formed.
It was entirely made of water, yet its shape was precise, bristles fine and elegant. The brush hovered before him, responding to his thoughts as naturally as a limb.
Lin Mu paused, considering his words.
Then he wrote.
The brush moved smoothly across the surface of the hill, water carving words into stone as effortlessly as ink on parchment.
"When the heart is still, water reveals the Dao."
HUMMM
As the final character was completed, a pulse of Water Dao Traces surged outward. The carved words glowed softly, turning a deep, serene blue. Dao Traces seeped into the stone itself, stabilizing and settling, until the entire hill hummed faintly with quiet power.
The glow did not fade.
It remained, steady and tranquil.
A hush fell over the onlookers.
Several staff members who possessed water affinities felt it immediately. A gentle clarity washed over their minds, like cool rain after a long drought. One of the junior clerks gasped softly, eyes unfocusing as a spark of insight flickered within him.
"This..." he whispered. "This place... it feels different."
The manager swallowed, staring at the glowing inscription as if gazing upon a treasure vault.
"A Dao Comprehension ground," he breathed. "Even a minor one... this is priceless."
Another supervisor laughed shakily. "Renovation plans are officially canceled. We are expanding."
Lin Mu merely smiled, stepping back.
To thank him properly, the inn staff insisted on hosting a feast.
Tables were set overlooking the ocean, laden with fresh seafood, Immortal fruits, and delicacies infused with gentle elemental energies. The atmosphere was relaxed and warm, the earlier chaos already fading into memory.
Lin Mu ate with his companions, savoring the food.
Yet even as he did, his mind wandered.
Or rather, flowed.
Unseen by anyone else, water far out at sea began to move. Currents shifted subtly, shaping themselves into delicate sculptures beneath the waves. Towers rose and dissolved. Creatures formed and dispersed. Spirals, arches, and patterns emerged, each one a silent experiment.
Lin Mu tested limits he could not yet see.
He found none.
Every command felt effortless. Every response immediate. Water obeyed him not out of force, but familiarity.
It was like rediscovering a sense he had always possessed, but never fully opened.
Cattaleya noticed his distant gaze and smirked. "You are doing it again."
Lin Mu blinked, returning his attention to the table. "Doing what?"
"Playing," she said knowingly.
He did not deny it.
The ocean rippled gently in the distance, reflecting the setting sun.
And Lin Mu knew, deep in his heart, that this was only the beginning on the long path of the Grand Dao.
The next morning arrived quietly, wrapped in pale sea mist and the steady breath of the sea.
Far from the White Bubble Inn, nearly a full kilometer out over open water, Lin Mu sat cross legged upon the ocean itself.
There was no platform beneath him.
No hidden support.
The water rose willingly, forming a calm, circular seat that cradled him as naturally as earth once had. Gentle waves rolled outward from his position, each one perfectly spaced, each one carrying faint Water Dao Traces that shimmered and faded like breath on glass.
This distance was deliberate.
What Lin Mu intended to test now was no longer subtle. The night before, he had already sensed it. The scale of what he could do with water had expanded too quickly, too suddenly. Experimenting near the inn risked frightening the staff again, or worse, damaging the surrounding area in ways that could not be easily explained away with money.
Out here, there was only the ocean.
And the ocean, he suspected, would welcome this.
Lin Mu closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.
Moisture gathered with his breath.
Not visibly at first, but perceptibly, the air itself leaning toward him. Each droplet of vapor, each trace of humidity responded as though he were an anchor point in the world.
He exhaled.
The surface of the sea smoothed.
"This still feels unreal," Lin Mu murmured to himself.
What he was testing now was not raw control.
It was application.
Over the years, Lin Mu had collected an absurd number of water elemental techniques. Manuals taken from sect vaults, copied from ruins, purchased in markets, extracted from memories, or acquired incidentally while pursuing other goals.
Most of them had been left untouched.
Some were too shallow to matter to him before.
Others were too deep.
Without sufficient affinity, they had been like trying to read scripture written underwater while half blind. He could memorize the words, understand the theory, but the execution had always felt distant.
That distance no longer existed.
He began with the lowest tier.
Spirit realm water skills.
Lin Mu raised one hand, palm facing the sea.
"Condensed Ripple Art."
At once, a perfect ring formed beneath his palm, ripples compressing inward instead of spreading outward. What was meant to be a simple disruptive pulse sharpened into a cutting disc of water that hummed faintly.
He released it.
The disc skimmed across the surface, slicing through waves without splashing, before dissipating cleanly.
Lin Mu frowned slightly.
"That was... too refined."
He tried again.
"Flowing Vein Thread."
This technique was supposed to produce thin water threads capable of binding opponents or sensing movement. Lin Mu formed it casually, and instead of threads, a complex web of translucent filaments spread outward for hundreds of meters, sensitive enough to register the movement of fish far below the surface.
He dismissed it with a thought and the technique faded like it never existed.