Walker Of The Worlds

By the third day, the terrain began to shift.

The wind thinned out. The clouds moved slower, as though hesitant to pass overhead. The vast sky dimmed subtly, sunlight seeming to filter through some invisible lens that muted its brilliance.

Even the Qi in the air felt different—compressed, silent, and oddly patient.

And then they saw it.

The Great Burden Monastery.

It sat atop a wide, flat plateau that rose abruptly from the plains like the back of some ancient beast. The landscape around it was bare, without a single tree or blade of grass in sight for miles. The monastery itself was a singular structure of great mass, hewn from black stone that drank in light rather than reflected it. Its sweeping, sloped roof was tiled in weathered ash-gray slate, giving it the appearance of a resting tomb more than a place of worship.

A scattering of smaller buildings surrounded the central monastery—monk halls, ascetic dwellings, and modest pavilions—but none of them bore decoration, banners, or color. The entire compound was silent.

Not empty. Just silent.

What struck Lin Mu first was not the architecture or the aura of stillness.

It was the weight.

The moment Little Shrubby descended toward the base of the plateau, a pressure clamped down on them. It wasn't a spiritual attack or an oppressive will. It was more… subtle.

"Ugh…" Meng Bai winced. "Why does it feel like I gained a hundred kilos?" He felt like his weight had doubled.

While it wasn't something he couldn't handle, he was at the Peak of the Nascent Soul realm, being able to lift a literal ton of weight with ease. But it was still uncomfortable.

Lin Mu exhaled deeply. His body could resist the pressure easily, something he was used to due to his own Dao Skill: Aspect of Heaviness. But even he felt it—the sensation of walking through syrup, of gravity turned up ever so slightly.

"It's the Qi," Lin Mu murmured. "Condensed. Stagnant. Layered. Like an ocean that's never been stirred."

Little Shrubby growled, visibly straining under the invisible force. His fur fluttered awkwardly as he landed at the edge of the monastery grounds, unable to settle properly.

"You won't be able to move freely here," Lin Mu said, reaching out and gently patting the beast's head. "Go back for now."

Little Shrubby's body was massive as such the weight increase for him was also greater. While he could certainly move around, he would be uncomfortably restrained even in his kitten form, so it was best for him to return to the Sleepscape for now.

With a low, rumbling huff, Little Shrubby was sent into the Sleepscape, vanishing in a blink of silvery light.

"Let's go," Lin Mu said.

They climbed the long stone staircase leading up the plateau. Each step felt heavier than the last. By the time they reached the top, even Meng Bai was breathing a little harder.

The front of the monastery was blocked by a barrier—an almost invisible dome of spiritual energy that shimmered faintly in the golden afternoon light. It extended across the entire compound, forming a gentle but unmistakable wall.

Lin Mu walked up to it and pressed a palm against the surface.

Buzz.

A ripple pulsed outward, and the barrier resisted. Not with force, but with judgment.

"It's not just keeping people out," Lin Mu murmured. "It's weighing your intent."

"Then let's announce ourselves." Meng Bai stepped forward.

Lin Mu nodded, took a deep breath, and cupped his hands.

"Bearer Lin Mu seeks entry into the Great Burden Monastery. We come in peace." He said hoping that they might heed his title.

His voice echoed through the stillness. It bounced off the stone walls, filtered through the air… and died.

No response.

He waited.

Still nothing.

"This place is too quiet," Meng Bai said, glancing around uneasily. "I don't even hear birds."

"That's because there are none," Lin Mu replied, scanning the sky. "Even Immortal beasts avoid this place. The Qi density and spiritual weight make it unwelcoming."

He turned back to the barrier and narrowed his eyes. "But I'm not leaving without answers."

This time, he didn't push with strength. He leaned forward and began to channel his spiritual sense into the barrier—not to break, but to read.

Runes flickered to life beneath the surface. They curled and twisted like brushstrokes in midair, forming ancient script. These weren't simple formation seals. They were Buddhist philosophical constructs, Dao intent rendered into thoughtforms.

"Interesting…" Lin Mu muttered. "It's a dialogue."

Meng Bai blinked. "A what?"

"A mental exchange. It wants to know why I seek to enter—not what I say, but what I mean."

Without another word, Lin Mu sat cross-legged in front of the barrier. He began tracing glowing patterns into the air, each stroke imbued with spiritual will and intent. It was not an incantation or code—it was an answer, spoken through the Buddhist Dao.

His time spent in the Green Lotus Temple was not a waste and he had read a lot of scriptures, techniques and skills there. he had basically read if not copied every document, book, scroll and jade slip they had there.

Lines of silver light formed in an elegant arc, each one harmonizing with the barrier's runes.

The air grew stiller.

Then—crack—a thin line split open in the golden film.

A vertical seam parted silently, just wide enough for a single person to walk through.

"You opened it," Meng Bai said, stunned.

"I didn't force it open," Lin Mu said, rising to his feet. "I convinced it to let us in."

He stepped through the opening without hesitation. Meng Bai followed.

The moment they entered, the pressure deepened.

It was as if the weight of every vow, every life given in service, every burden borne in silence—had been condensed into the air itself.

The wind did not blow. The grass did not move.

The lanterns lining the path were filled with oil, their wicks unlit. The incense bowls at the shrines were recently emptied, but no smoke rose.