Walker Of The Worlds

Light danced along the edge of the illusion as if it were brushing against something real—yet intangible.

The illusion wasn't merely convincing—it was uncanny.

It didn't resemble a simple mirage. No, it looked like something that shouldn't exist at all, something spectral, hovering eerily in the air. It lacked the solid clarity of a true double, but that was what made it even more disorienting.

And that, Lin Mu realized, was precisely the key.

Once he grasped this understanding, his progress accelerated.

From the sluggish pace of a crawling snail, he advanced to the steady trudge of a slow-moving cow. It still wasn't fast by any means, but it was leaps and bounds better than before—and more importantly, it was real, measurable progress.

"I did it!" Lin Mu exclaimed, excitement bursting from his chest like steam from a kettle.

"Good," the Saintess responded with a calm nod. "Now you just have to keep at it. Once you learn to manipulate the wind and air with enough precision, you'll be able to project a convincing illusion."

"Yes," Lin Mu replied, already deep in thought. Countless ideas and inspirations began bubbling up in his mind.

He considered the natural illusions that occurred in everyday life—those strange and curious tricks of light that even mortals could witness. The most familiar example was, of course, a mirage. It formed when hot air rose from the ground, its lower density bending light in such a way that it appeared as if water or a distant object shimmered on the horizon.

Then there was the refraction of light caused by water. Everyone had seen how an object submerged in water appeared displaced when viewed from above. A spoon in a glass looked bent. A coin seemed closer or farther than it truly was.

Inspired by these phenomena, Lin Mu leaned into what he already excelled at: the control of fire, and by extension, heat.

With practiced ease, he guided delicate Qi threads to heat the air in specific zones, manipulating the density just enough to mimic those light-bending effects. It wasn't long before the overlapping image of his hand evolved—now, it appeared as though two distinct hands floated before him.

Of course, the second hand was still imperfect. It lacked clarity and detail. But it was no longer simply a fuzzy afterimage. It had a form, even if it was only partial.

'How else can I improve this…? Moisture!' Lin Mu's eyes lit up with inspiration once again.

By adding moisture to the air, he could further manipulate its density and optical properties. It didn't require much—just a touch of Water elemental Qi. While he hadn't cultivated true affinity with water, he could still guide a small portion with relative ease.

Infusing the air with moisture made the illusion more solid—more present. It didn't become clearer, per se, but it changed. Now, the phantom limb looked like an arm seen through mist or fog—obscured, but undeniably there.

Lin Mu continued to hone this technique, utterly engrossed. He didn't realize that he wasn't just mastering the Spectral Phantasm Strike—he was simultaneously improving his control over Qi, and increasing his proficiency with wind, air, fire, and water alike.

This kind of multifaceted improvement was rare, even in cultivation circles. Most cultivators struggled to make such progress even when they deliberately set out to do so. And yet here Lin Mu was, accomplishing it all organically, without even trying.

To further enhance his training, Lin Mu resumed using the Spectral Mirror Stones. But now, he didn't rely on them blindly. Instead, he treated their illusions like templates—reference images he could overlay his own projections upon.

He would match his illusions against the ones created by the stones, then dispel them to compare. Through this, he identified flaws—tiny distortions, timing mismatches, or inconsistencies in light flow—and corrected them one by one.

With every repetition, his illusions grew crisper, more stable, more believable.

Elsewhere in the training area, Meng Bai and Daoist Chu observed his progress. They often found themselves baffled by what they were seeing.

"So weird," Meng Bai muttered, squinting at the illusions. "I didn't think that skill would be like this."

He had heard of the Spectral Phantasm Strike, but this process was far stranger and more intricate than he'd imagined.

"Skills can vary greatly in their difficulty and depth," Daoist Chu said, his tone calm but impressed. "Learning them can take years. But since we're talking about Lin Mu… well, he's probably doing in months what would take others decades."

"That fast?" Meng Bai blinked. "But if he's taking this long, how long will I need?"

"You may not see it yet," Daoist Chu said, "but he's not just practicing a skill. He's integrating multiple elements—air, wind, fire, water—into one seamless illusion. Even I'm not confident I could manage that in a hundred years."

"Damn," Meng Bai muttered, awed. "Guess I'll have to learn all that too, huh?"

"Haha, probably," Daoist Chu chuckled. "But that's a concern for the future. Right now, just focus on what's in front of you."

"Yeah," Meng Bai nodded and returned to the formation diagram he had been practicing. Under Daoist Chu's guidance, the boy was progressing well in his own way.

And so the days passed, one after another.

Lin Mu continued to train, and his companions improved alongside him.

Unknowingly, more than six months had gone by since they had first initiated the teleportation. Lin Mu had lost all sense of time. He didn't care. His entire focus was locked on mastering the Spectral Phantasm Strike.

His illusions had now taken the form of vague silhouettes, surrounded by shifting light and subtle sound—but still without full substance.

The final step—the complete formation of the illusionary image—remained the most difficult. Lin Mu had already used up nearly seventy percent of his stockpile of Spectral Mirror Stones just to reach this point.

Not that he minded.

He had stopped using them altogether for the past few days. By now, he had memorized every aspect of the illusion and could visualize it purely from memory.