Chapter 105: Follow My Lead

“Beep, beep, beep.”

This wasn’t the sound of Lin Zhan’s 186 badge receiving a hefty sum, but rather the warning that a cluster of white dots was drawing near.

He counted—there were more than thirty of them.

If he really ran into them, he’d be entangled for quite some time. So, he searched for a gap between the white dots and swiftly slipped through.

Yet the crowd was still too dense. Even after reaching the outskirts, Lin Zhan couldn’t quite avoid running into a few people.

Deep in the forest, a man dressed in black crouched behind a massive tree, gripping a long sword. His body was so tense with vigilance that he was hunched up into a ball.

Only when Lin Zhan appeared before him did the man start in fright, but then immediately collapsed back to the ground—for Ink Sword was already pressed to his throat.

Lin Zhan lowered his voice, “Which peak are you from?”

“I—I’m from Sword Burial Peak, an outer disciple,” the man stammered, evidently his first time confronting an opponent, his reaction awkward and unnatural.

“What are you doing hiding here?” Lin Zhan sat down behind him, Ink Sword unwavering, as he checked his belongings.

Realizing that Lin Zhan hadn’t struck immediately, the man’s nerves eased a little. “I’m waiting for a fellow disciple.”

“What’s your current cultivation stage?” Lin Zhan asked again.

“Human Rank, Fifth Grade. Late Fifth Grade, actually. Soon, very soon, I’ll break through to Sixth Grade.” A trace of pride crept into his voice.

Lin Zhan sighed inwardly. Indeed, if not for his own advantage with the Nine Star Chart, his fateful encounter with Yun Yin, and the Hero Pool’s secret cave, reaching late Fifth Grade at this point would make anyone proud.

But in this competition, such a stage was truly insufficient. The fact that this man’s points hadn’t been taken yet was sheer luck. Unless the first nine just happened to each take ninety-nine points, there was little hope of advancing to the next round.

“With cultivation this poor, why even join the Grand Tournament? You’re bound to be cannon fodder,” Lin Zhan remarked, puzzled.

“I know that, but I came for a chance to meet someone,” the man suddenly replied with firm resolve.

Lin Zhan was silent for a moment, then asked, “Want to team up with me?”

“You’re… not taking my points?” The man was stunned.

“Are you afraid? By the way, when is the person you’re waiting for arriving?”

“My fellow disciple should be here soon. His white dot is already close by, moving this way.”

Lin Zhan stood, forcibly took the man’s badge, and transferred ten points of his own combat value to it.

A crisp series of beeps signaled the change. Instantly, Lin Zhan’s golden light dot reverted to red, while the previous second place dot elsewhere turned gold, becoming the new first place.

“Heh, now I won’t be everyone’s target. Damn, finally found an acquaintance and with one transfer the pressure’s off. How delightful!” Lin Zhan felt secretly relieved. The man he’d just subdued was absolutely frightened out of his wits. “Why did you transfer so many points to me, brother?”

“What, you don’t want them?” Lin Zhan pretended to be annoyed.

“Oh, no, I’m just worried someone will take them from me and your points will be wasted!” The man clutched his badge tightly, his body trembling with excitement.

So, this was what happiness felt like when it arrived suddenly.

“As long as you stick with me, no one will take your points,” Lin Zhan said expressionlessly.

Footsteps crunched over snow—someone was approaching, and their movement was anything but subtle.

“Hey, Fang Dagang, it’s me, Lian Ming! Over here, quick!” Having just received points and with his fellow disciple arriving, his voice even shifted with excitement.

Lin Zhan chuckled to himself. He knew full well that the person he’d just held at swordpoint was Lian Ming, the strategist who used to serve beside Qin Qingxuan.

And the fellow disciple Lian Ming was waiting for could only be his old companion Fang Dagang.

He’d met them months ago with Qin Qingxuan in the Spirit Herb Valley, and she’d explained their situation.

Now, after months apart, seeing the two again, Lin Zhan was more excited than anyone. But in his current guise—his appearance altered by a disorienting disguise technique—he dared not reveal himself, so as not to bring them trouble. He decided to keep pretending to be a stranger.

He let Lian Ming and Fang Dagang have their private exchange.

Soon, Lian Ming brought Fang Dagang over.

“I am Lian Ming, and this is my senior brother Fang Dagang. We’re both outer disciples of Sword Burial Peak and from the same hometown. Thank you for your generous points, brother!” Lian Ming cupped his fists in gratitude.

Fang Dagang expressed the same thanks.

“No need for courtesy. Friend Fang, allow me to give you points as well! If you two follow me, we’ll break into the top ten together and reach the final round—do you dare?” Lin Zhan grinned.

Fang Dagang and Lian Ming exchanged a joyous glance and both nodded. “We dare! Why wouldn’t we? We’ll follow you!”

Afterward, Fang Dagang carefully inquired, “May we know your name, benefactor?”

“Just call me One Eight Six. I’m used to being referred to by a number,” Lin Zhan replied, waving his hand.

Lian Ming was Human Rank Fifth Grade, and Fang Dagang was at Seventh Grade. Clearly, Fang Dagang had been more diligent in his cultivation—it was no easy feat.

Lin Zhan transferred ten points to Fang Dagang’s badge as well, leaving himself with only eight.

With these points, all three could make it to the top ten.

By now, the number of disciples still remaining in the North Border Forest Area Two had dropped to less than half.

The points were concentrated in fewer than twenty hands, the rest still holding their original single point.

“Let me see your swords,” Lin Zhan said, noticing that the swords in their hands were far too ordinary, especially compared to those carried by the likes of Gao Yi and Gao Xun.

Lian Ming and Fang Dagang looked embarrassed. Though Sword Burial Peak was famous for swordsmanship, as outer disciples they only received standard-issue blades, unlike inner disciples who could select their own weapons from the legendary Sword Mound atop the peak.

There, countless treasured swords lay buried, each with a storied past.

Sheepishly, they handed their swords over. Lin Zhan took them and found, as he’d guessed, that both were mere common black iron blades.

With a crunch, he crushed the two swords into a lump of scrap and tossed it into a gully. Then he brought out the collection of Sword Burial Peak swords he’d seized—seventeen or eighteen in total.

With a clang, he dropped them on the stone slab before them. “Choose two suitable swords for yourselves!”

“Wow, that’s the legendary Cloudshadow Sword!”

“Heavens, the Thunder Shadow Sword, and the Skycall Sword! What am I seeing?”

Fang Dagang and Lian Ming’s faces went pale with shock, as if they’d suddenly seen a bride stripped bare before them.