By now, the excitement surrounding the tournament wasn't just about merit points or even sect rewards.
It was about witnessing a legend in the making.
The entire sect had become a cauldron of anticipation. Even the elders had begun to drop hints and chuckles whenever someone asked about Lin Mu.
No one dared speak his name too loudly anymore.
Not because of fear—but out of reverence.
He had become a living mystery.
A whispered vow.
A blade yet unsheathed.
And everyone was waiting to see it drawn in full.
They didn't have to wait long, since the day was just a few hours away.
The banners of the Xian Sword Sect fluttered in the morning wind, their embroidered sword crests gleaming under the rising sun.
