Chapter Fifteen: Unrivaled Divine Movement

Wang Da Fool couldn't hold on any longer halfway through his words. He slumped to the ground, his face flushed, panting for breath, and sweat pouring from his body.

"He didn't faint?" Lin Xiaobao, having experienced it himself, clearly understood what just happened and was a little surprised that Wang Da Fool managed to endure it.

"Brother Xiaobao, why does my mind suddenly have so many patterns, as if they're teaching me how to cultivate?" Wang Da Fool gasped out.

A thought flashed through Lin Xiaobao's mind as he replied, "I managed to get into the Mission Hall before the senior disciples started guarding it. What I just gave you was a set of cultivation techniques I exchanged for, but don't tell anyone about this—if everyone comes to me for techniques, it'll be a real headache!"

"Brother Xiaobao, you're amazing!" Wang Da Fool's eyes sparkled with admiration again. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul. I'll go back and start cultivating right away!"

This kid seemed full of passion for cultivation! Little did Lin Xiaobao know that what truly motivated Wang Da Fool was the fear of being kicked out of the Snowstorm Pavilion in a year’s time and returning home to a life where even a full meal would be a luxury.

Once Wang Da Fool left, Lin Xiaobao fell into deep thought. Now that the old batch of outer disciples blocked the way to the Mission Hall, how could he continue to exchange for contribution points in the future?

As Lin Xiaobao pondered, a commotion erupted not far away, followed by the sound of many approaching footsteps—clearly, a sizable group was coming.

Could it be those old outer disciples had found out he’d entered the Mission Hall and were coming to cause trouble? As Lin Xiaobao debated whether to slip away, he caught sight of a few familiar figures.

It was the browless youth who’d once clashed with him in the Hongwu Hall, accompanied by several young men from his hometown, and behind them trailed a number of new outer disciples, Hu Dequan among them.

What were they up to? Lin Xiaobao glanced anxiously at his hut, worried they might have discovered his secret.

"Invincible Swiftwalker is over here!" someone shouted, and all eyes turned to Lin Xiaobao.

Invincible Swiftwalker? Was that meant for him? Lin Xiaobao touched his nose in slight embarrassment. He hadn’t expected that a single lap around Hongwu Hall would earn him such a title. Though he knew it was meant mockingly, he didn’t mind—in martial arts, speed is king; running fast was the safest strategy.

"Swiftwalker… Brother Lin, glad you’re here!" The browless youth stepped forward and spoke first.

"You’re looking for me?" Lin Xiaobao noticed that all of them bore the marks of scuffles, which told him they’d surely suffered at the hands of the older disciples on the way to the Mission Hall. But why seek him out? Had they learned he’d already been there? "There are too many of you for my hut; let’s just talk here."

"We came to ask for your help today," the browless youth said without preamble.

"We’re all fellow disciples," Lin Xiaobao declared, his tone resolute, "If there’s anything I can do, just say the word! I, Lin Xiaobao, won’t flinch from any hardship!"

The group spoke up all at once, explaining how the older outer disciples had robbed them of their contribution points.

"You should take this to Instructor Hong. You don’t really think I can take on those senior disciples, do you?" Lin Xiaobao’s tone was now a far cry from his earlier bravado.

"Instructor Hong won’t intervene. He told us to figure it out ourselves," said the browless youth. "We’re here because we hope you’ll use your special skill!"

"My special skill is really just one thing," Lin Xiaobao replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Of course, the others missed his innuendo. "Since you’re the fastest among us, we thought we’d pool all our contribution points with you. The rest of us will distract those senior disciples while you dash through to the Mission Hall and exchange for resources. Later, we’ll agree on a time, use the same trick, and help you make a run for it on the way back."

"Aren’t you afraid I’ll take all the rewards for myself?" Lin Xiaobao asked, but as he looked at their faces, he realized how silly the question sounded. In their eyes, he was good for nothing but running—if he dared to cheat them, he’d probably get beaten to a pulp.

"Forget I asked."

Remembering the sixty contribution points he’d gotten from Wang Da Fool, Lin Xiaobao said, "But I haven’t unlocked the Snowstorm Chapter yet—this plan does nothing for me. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless you let me take a ten percent risk fee for running the gauntlet," Lin Xiaobao said with a sly look.

Ten percent? After a noisy round of discussion, they agreed to Lin Xiaobao's terms. After all, no one could match his speed.

The browless youth handed over his Snowstorm Token to Lin Xiaobao, and everyone else in turn channeled their contribution points into their tokens, telling him exactly which resources to exchange for. This was their last hope—though it stung to lose ten percent to Lin Xiaobao, it was far better than letting the old disciples take half.

Besides, if they gave in now, the seniors would demand half every time in the future—a life too miserable to imagine.

When it was Hu Dequan’s turn, Lin Xiaobao noticed his token had fifty contribution points—this guy had unlocked both the martial and formation pages. "I’ll need thirty percent from you," Lin Xiaobao said.

Hu Dequan hesitated, his token hovering in midair. "Don’t push your luck, Lin Xiaobao!"

"That’s the price for tripping me in Hongwu Hall. Of course, you can always refuse to cooperate," Lin Xiaobao declared loudly. "In fact, for all disciples above the fifth martial level except Hu Dequan, I’ll take no fee at all. After all, you’ll be risking yourselves to draw off the seniors."

With both pressure and incentive, Hu Dequan was left isolated. "Fine, thirty percent," he grumbled.

Looking at the tokens in his hand, Lin Xiaobao saw a total of over six hundred contribution points—plus his own sixty, he now had more than a hundred to spare for himself. With a grand gesture, he declared, "Let’s move out!"

The army of new outer disciples marched toward the Mission Hall, discussing every possible scenario along the way. Soon they reached the foot of the mountain.

Seeing their numbers, the senior disciples grew uneasy. One stepped forward. "What do you think you’re doing?"

"Charge!" Lin Xiaobao shouted, and dozens of disciples swarmed forward like a plague of locusts, aiming to catch the seniors off guard.

"Stop as many as you can!" the lead senior disciple yelled, a mocking smile flickering across his face. They’d used this trick themselves in the past, though only to skim off a portion of the contribution points, not to block everyone. If some made it through, so be it.

The new disciples, still weak, cried out in pain as they were beaten back. But with their numbers, they managed to hold off the seniors and create a gap. Lin Xiaobao immediately launched his self-created Invincible Swiftwalker technique—feet oiled, he darted through the opening at lightning speed.