Lin Mu’s Peak Sword Intent surged.

No flashy technique. No special arts.

Just the pressure of one who had walked through countless real-life battles, who had fought monsters, immortals, and ’heretics’.

The puppet responded in kind, pressing in even harder.

Their blades clashed, scraped, bit through air—and time seemed to blur. Minutes turned to hours.

He broke a piece of the puppet’s faceplate—but it regenerated.

He shattered its sword arm’s outer casing—but it reforged.

Only when he managed to strike at the core formation circle behind its spine did it finally lock up—motionless, its internal mechanism overloading in a harmless burst of light.

Lin Mu stood in the circle, chest heaving, arms sore, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

Five hours.

That’s how long it had taken to defeat the sixth puppet with only his sword and his will.

He lowered his weapon slowly.

Then he looked around the training hall, his gaze flickering with raw excitement.

"This..." he said between breaths, "...was absolutely the right choice."

Even now, standing in the aftermath of that exhausting battle, Lin Mu could feel it.

His instincts had sharpened.

His reflexes refined.

His Sword Intent... resonated deeper.

He hadn’t just won a duel.

He had grown.

Lin Mu stood still in the center of the puppet training hall, sword lowered but eyes gleaming with fierce exhilaration.

His chest rose and fell with each breath, but it wasn’t exhaustion that held him—it was pure thrill.

"This is incredible..." he whispered, the aftershock of the battle still tingling in his fingertips. "I didn’t think I’d get such a fight with just swordplay."

His sword trembled slightly in his grasp—not from fatigue, but from the surging desire for more.

More challenges.

More duels.

More chances to hone himself.

Before he could begin another round, a glowing inscription shimmered before him at the edge of the arena.

Would you like to record your name and create a personal record?

Lin Mu blinked, then chuckled softly. "Might as well."

He stepped forward and pressed his hand to the array.

Name Registered: Lin Mu

A small pulse of light ran across the hall, briefly scanning him, then vanishing.

The puppet array hummed, and another option unfurled on the control pillar. Lin Mu’s eyes widened slightly.

Over a hundred distinct sword styles were listed.

Each one categorized with its own history, known patterns, and difficulty ratings. There was Verdant Cloud Drift, Crimson Petal Eight-Form, Raging Gale Cleave, Golden Veil Defense, and even archaic styles like Starfall Rend and Heavenly Sun Spiral.

A slow grin spread across his face.

"I want to fight every one of them."

Without hesitation, he selected the sixth-stage puppet again—but chose Crimson Petal Eight-Form this time.

The puppet reactivated, this time with a new stance, its sword light and curved, its posture elegant and loose—almost lazy.

But Lin Mu didn’t underestimate it.

The moment the duel began, he knew: this puppet fought like a dancer who killed with every twirl.

And he loved it.

He threw himself into the battle again, letting the clash of blades echo within the chamber—each clash refining him, drawing out the depths of his instincts and sword intent.

What Lin Mu didn’t know... was that far away, high in another part of the sect, something had begun to stir.

In the heart of the Xian Sword Sect, nestled between the towering Library Pavilion and the Assembly Sanctum, stood the Hall of Achievements.

It was a magnificent hall with immortal stone pillars, celestial lamps that burned with slow, unending light, and shelves filled with artifacts, trophies, and records that immortalized the greatest feats in the sect’s history.

But perhaps the most visited section was the Puppet Duel Record Wall.

Here, glowing stone panels listed the achievements of disciples and elders alike, categorized by:

Sword Style

Cultivation Stage of Puppet

Duration of the Duel

Result

Most disciples who passed through this hall would glance at the rankings wistfully, dreaming of seeing their names on the leaderboards someday.

That was when a flicker of light appeared.

A disciple, lazily walking past the Third Stage rankings, paused and frowned.

"Huh? That’s new..."

The entry had no name. Just a blank space.

[???] - Flowing Water Sword Arts – 3rd Stage – Victory – 00:01:12

More flickers appeared.

A new entry in the Fourth Stage rankings. Then the Fifth. Then—shockingly—the Sixth Stage.

Still no name.

A small crowd began to gather as more disciples noticed the growing mystery.

And then, with a pulse of golden light... the blank entries updated.

Lin Mu – Crimson Petal Eight-Form – 6th Stage – Victory – 04:58:36 – Rank 9

Gasps echoed around the hall.

"Lin Mu?"

"Who the hell is that?"

"Is that a newcomer?"

"No way. You’re telling me a new disciple got top 10 in one of the most advanced styles?"

More disciples gathered.

They stared at the Sixth Stage rankings, mouths agape, especially as new entries began popping up under different sword styles—all with the same name.

An hour later, another one appeared:

Lin Mu – Verdant Cloud Drift – 6th Stage – Victory – 03:55:02 – Rank 7

"Again!?"

The Achievements Hall became a hotbed of speculation. Whispers turned into theories. Disciples began running between practice halls and dormitories, asking everyone they could find:

"Do you know who Lin Mu is!?"

"Have you met him before?"

"Is he from Elder Yang’s line? Or one of the visiting disciples?"

As the hours turned into days, more and more sword styles began to show Lin Mu’s name.

His times kept improving. What once took four or five hours now took only one.

One record displayed:

Lin Mu – Starfall Rend – 6th Stage – Victory – 00:59:42 – Rank 2

Another:

Lin Mu – Heavenly Sun Spiral – 6th Stage – Victory – 01:01:03 – Rank 3

Day by day, style by style, the name "Lin Mu" began appearing across the Sixth Stage rankings of nearly every sword form.

By the end of the first week, he was listed in over thirty of them.

By the second week, over seventy.

And not just in the rankings.

In second place, in nearly all of them.