Chapter Twenty-Six: A Difficult Decision

On the eastern side stood Yao Xinhong, aligned with the Heavenly Jade position, a martial artist of the eighth rank. At this moment, seeing Lin Xiaobao deftly slip into a dead angle of the formation, he hesitated. If he abandoned his spot in the array now, the curtain of swords would surely strike Lin Xiaobao; yet should Lin Xiaobao delay them even for a moment, Yao Xinhong’s position would inevitably be beset by the fierce attacks from the other six within the formation.

The glittering sword curtain finally halted a mere two inches before Lin Xiaobao’s chest.

"The Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper, so-called 'Xuan, Ji, Yu Heng, to align the seven offices'... the Dipper is the imperial chariot, it moves in the center and governs the four directions. It divides yin and yang, establishes the four seasons, balances the five elements, shifts the measures, and determines all calendars—all tied to the Dipper."

With Wu Lao’s constant guidance, Lin Xiaobao always managed to narrowly evade the formation’s most powerful assaults, weaving through the gaps with perilous agility.

“Wu Lao, is your reputation as King of Formations just bluster? Why can’t you break this array after all this time?” Struggling under the burden of the twentyfold gravity array, Lin Xiaobao fought bitterly and grew exhausted, resorting to baiting Wu Lao in hopes of hastening his escape.

“This ridiculous child’s play you call a formation? I’ve already taught you how it operates—breaking it is your own problem. I’m done!” Rather than being goaded into revealing the solution, Wu Lao simply shrugged off responsibility.

“Wu Lao, please don’t be angry! I’m just a child and spoke out of turn—surely you won’t hold it against me!” Lin Xiaobao, his scheme failed, tried another, employing his usual flattery that never failed him, “I know Wu Lao is mighty and wise, vast in power—just give me a hint, or I’ll soon be out of strength!”

Yet this time, his trusted flattery sank without a trace, bringing no response. Helpless, Lin Xiaobao had no choice but to study the method of breaking the formation himself.

The Solar-Eclipse Sword Formation completed a circuit without so much as brushing Lin Xiaobao’s sleeve. The other six who joined the formation no longer worried about harming Lin Xiaobao’s life. As martial artists, they finally understood why Han Yongfeng was so eager to see Lin Xiaobao dead.

If Lin Xiaobao were merely a postnatal martial artist, such thoughts wouldn’t arise, but for a seventh-rank martial artist to drag their sword formation through a cycle without being touched at all—it was a humiliating blow. Stricken, they channeled their frustration into a renewed and merciless assault.

With the six attacking at full strength, Lin Xiaobao’s pressure multiplied. Fortunately, he was now familiar with the formation, and his potent spiritual sense allowed him to grasp all its subtleties.

Suddenly, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Lin Xiaobao’s lips. This time, he didn’t dodge according to Wu Lao’s instructions but seized an opening and advanced. His long sword, dormant until now, flashed with cold light, its tip aimed directly at the Kaiyang position in the formation.

The array was in motion, and the Kaiyang spot was empty, but Lin Xiaobao seemed oblivious, his sword swift and fierce.

Seeing Lin Xiaobao’s airborne strike, Han Yongfeng’s face changed dramatically, for Kaiyang was precisely where he was about to stand next. As Lin Xiaobao’s sword threatened to succeed, Han Yongfeng hesitated, dodging just a fraction too late, missing the ideal moment to occupy his position. Now, Lin Xiaobao had claimed the Kaiyang spot.

The formation surged, and the other six could not pause; their powerful blows now bore down upon Han Yongfeng, who had failed to secure his place. Though the six tried to restrain their strength, their combined force was still formidable.

Time allowed Han Yongfeng no further thought; he spun, hacking out several swords in rapid succession, each clashing against the blades of the other six. The clang of metal echoed, and Han Yongfeng’s sword hand nearly lost all feeling. Though the six possessed only eighth-rank strength, the formation’s power and the simultaneous blows from each overwhelmed him, his arm numb and barely able to grip his sword.

But Lin Xiaobao, ever cunning, would never let matters end there. As the six withdrew, his lethal sword struck swiftly and silently from behind Han Yongfeng. With Han Yongfeng harboring murderous intent toward him, Lin Xiaobao had no reason to show mercy.

A chill swept across Han Yongfeng’s back. By the time he sensed it, Lin Xiaobao’s sword tip was less than a foot from his body. In desperation, Han Yongfeng swung his sword to block, unleashing every ounce of his potential.

With a resonant clang, Lin Xiaobao staggered three steps back, but Han Yongfeng, overwhelmed by the fierce counterforce, was sent flying, a bright gash blooming across his left arm.

At that moment, the three young men without eyebrows surrounded Lin Xiaobao, forming a triangle to guard him at the center.

For Lin Xiaobao to break a formation composed of six eighth-rank martial artists and one ninth-rank master was nothing short of miraculous. Yet miracles had become common around him that day. Though the others were astonished, concern for Lin Xiaobao’s safety overrode their shock; they watched the six intently, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of trouble.

Han Yongfeng rolled twice before coming to a stop, landing unluckily right beside the unconscious Wang Dashan.

“Hahaha…” he burst out laughing, smoothing his disheveled hair, his eyes bloodshot with a hint of madness. Rising, he angled his sword at Wang Dashan’s throat and shouted at Lin Xiaobao, “Come! Aren’t you so powerful? Come here!”

The Hongwu Hall fell silent. The Solar-Eclipse Sword Formation had been broken, shattering the old disciples’ morale. Lin Xiaobao had become almost invincible in their eyes, and now all eyes fixed upon him and Han Yongfeng.

Lin Xiaobao gently pushed Hu Dequan aside and walked forward. “What do you want?”

“Stop! Don’t come any closer!” Han Yongfeng raised his left hand, ordering Lin Xiaobao to halt two yards away. “Don’t approach me—I’m terrified of you…”

A string of failures had left the proud Han Yongfeng’s face twisted in a manic smile. “I’ll give you two choices: first, I kill him; second, you cut off your own arm. Well? One arm for your brother’s life—will you trade?”

“We’re all disciples here; must you push things to this extreme?” As he spoke, Lin Xiaobao’s left hand quietly formed a seal, his spiritual power coursing along a specific path to seal the twentyfold gravity array upon him.

“A seventh-rank martial artist, and you can beat me like this? What’s the point of my training now, or anything else?” Seeing Lin Xiaobao’s hesitation, Han Yongfeng’s laughter grew more deranged. “Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to stand geniuses. If you choose your brother, you’ll be a one-armed genius; if you abandon him, you’ll have no friends on your path ever again!”

“Three…”

“Senior Han, let Wang Dashan go. We’re willing to give you our contribution points,” the eyebrowless youth pleaded.

“Two…” Contribution points now held no allure for the crazed Han Yongfeng; he ignored the plea, counting down as he watched Lin Xiaobao’s hand tighten on his sword, his eyes gleaming with strange excitement.

Still motionless, Lin Xiaobao drew a shake of the head from Han Yongfeng. “What a pity for your brother!”

“One…” The frenzied Han Yongfeng finished his count, then plunged his sword, a flash of cold light shooting toward Wang Dashan’s throat.

A shrill scream rang out as Meng Ying turned her face away in panic. Though she had reached eighth-rank martial artist herself, she was still a young woman and had never witnessed such carnage…