“Scatter! Use your Rank 5 Gale-Step Boots and run in four directions—two ten-year-old brats can’t catch all three hundred of us at once!”
Up in the dawn clouds above Sky-Border Pass. Senior Inner Disciple Jian Feng—having just been hauled back onto his feet by his junior brothers after fainting over his burped-up heirloom sword—screamed the first intelligent tactical command of his life.
Even though all three hundred elite Inner Disciples of the Supreme Sword Sect had just lost their flying swords to seven-year-old Jiang Tuntun’s stomach, they were still genuine Rank 5 Early Foundation Establishment cultivators! Every single one of them wore sect-issue Rank 5 Cloud-Treading Wind Boots stitched with lesser wind-escape runes.
At Jian Feng’s desperate shout, the three hundred white-robed disciples didn’t care about sect face anymore.
One hundred and fifty disciples bolted eastward toward the Jade-Belt River valley. The other one hundred and fifty disciples rocketed westward toward the foothills of Supreme Sword Mountain like a flock of startled pigeons!
Meanwhile, taking advantage of his three hundred disciples scattering. Human bait, nineteen-year-old Holy Son Chu Tian hunched down inside his floating white-jade sedan chair and jabbed his four outer-disciple bearers in the ribs: “Run! Take the high cloud-layer north while Uncle Zhao covers the rear!
