One day.
Wang Ben woke before dawn, body already tense with anticipation. The compound was quieter than it had been in weeks. Half of those unfit for battle had departed yesterday, and the rest would leave before noon. What remained were the warriors, the physicians, and those too stubborn or too essential to leave.
He dressed in the darkness, fingers finding familiar cloth and leather by touch alone. Outside his window, the first gray light was creeping over the eastern wall. In twenty-four hours, the grace period would end. In twenty-four hours, everything changed.
The training grounds were empty when he arrived.
Wang Ben stood in the pre-dawn silence, practice sword in hand, running through the forms Dao Zhen had drilled into him over the past six days. The Flowing Water Stance came easier now, his body remembering what his mind still struggled to understand. Pivot. Redirect. Let the force pass through rather than against.
He was halfway through the third repetition when he sensed movement at the edge of the yard.
Dao Zhen walked out of the shadows, but he wasn't alone. Grand Elder Dao Lingwei accompanied him, her silver hair catching the first rays of sunlight. The severe woman who had sat across from the Wang Clan elders during the strategy session now watched Wang Ben with an expression he couldn't read.
"Continue," she said.
Wang Ben hesitated only a moment before resuming the form. His movements felt stilted under her gaze, self-conscious in a way they hadn't been when only Dao Zhen watched. But he pushed through, letting the technique carry him past the awkwardness.
When he finished, Dao Lingwei nodded once.
"Adequate." She turned to her grandson. "You weren't exaggerating."
"I don't exaggerate." Dao Zhen's voice carried a hint of wounded pride. "I said he was unusual. He is."
"Unusual is a diplomatic word for impossible." The Grand Elder's eyes returned to Wang Ben. "Six days of training, and you're performing techniques that take most disciples months to learn. Even accounting for the Dao Clan's superior instruction."
Wang Ben kept his expression neutral. "I have good teachers."
"Flattery doesn't suit you." But there was something almost like approval in her voice. "My grandson sees potential in you. I'm inclined to trust his judgment, though the heavens know I've questioned it before."
Dao Zhen made a sound that might have been protest.
"Whatever happens in the coming days," Dao Lingwei continued, "remember that alliances forged in war are the strongest kind. The Dao Clan does not forget those who stand with us."
She turned and walked away without waiting for a response, leaving Wang Ben alone with Dao Zhen in the growing light.
"She likes you," Dao Zhen said.
"That was liking?"
"For her? That was practically a declaration of adoption." The heir's lips curved slightly. "Come. One final session. I want to see how much you've actually learned."
The spar lasted twelve minutes.
Wang Ben knew because he'd been counting his breaths, using the rhythm to anchor himself against the storm of Dao Zhen's attacks. Twelve minutes of constant pressure, constant adaptation, constant near-misses that would have ended him if Dao Zhen had been fighting to kill.
But twelve minutes was three times longer than their first session. And this time, Wang Ben landed not one but three touches, brief contacts that Dao Zhen had to actively block rather than simply evade.
When it was over, both of them breathing hard, something had shifted in the space between them.
"You're still body refinement," Dao Zhen said. "Still a full realm below me. By every measure that matters, you should be helpless."
"But?"
"But you're not." The heir sheathed his practice sword. "I don't know what you are, Wang Ben. I don't know where you come from or what makes you different. But I know what I see. And what I see is someone who will matter."
Wang Ben didn't know how to respond to that.
[OBSERVATION: Subject Dao Zhen reassessment complete]
[Analysis: Subject has shifted from curiosity to investment]
[Note: Alliance extends beyond political convenience]
[Assessment: Relationship may prove valuable for long-term objectives]
"Tomorrow," Dao Zhen said, breaking the silence. "When the fighting starts. Stay alive."
"I'll be with the observation team. Away from the fighting."
"Battles are chaos. Safe positions become death traps." The heir met his eyes. "Stay alive anyway."
He turned and walked toward the compound entrance, where other Dao Clan disciples were gathering for their return to their own compound. At the edge of the training ground, he paused.
"Six days ago, you were an interesting puzzle. Now you're something else." Dao Zhen didn't look back. "Don't die before I figure out what."
Then he was gone, and Wang Ben was alone with the morning light and the weight of everything that was coming.
His mother was waiting in the family courtyard.
Li Mei had finished packing. Two small bags sat by the gate, one for her and one containing everything Wang Chen might need for the days ahead. The baby himself was awake but quiet, watching the world with those wide, curious eyes that didn't understand what any of this meant.
Wang Tian stood beside his wife, his hand resting on her shoulder. The gesture was simple, intimate, the kind of touch that spoke of decades of shared life.
"The escort is ready," Wang Tian said quietly. "They'll take you to the safe house. Stay there until word comes that it's over."
"And if word doesn't come?"
The question hung in the air. Wang Ben saw his father's jaw tighten, saw the careful control that kept his voice steady.
"It will come. One way or another."
Li Mei turned to Wang Ben. Her eyes were dry, her expression composed, but he could see the effort it cost her. This woman who had held their family together through years of decline, who had believed in them when no one else did, was now walking away while her husband and son walked toward war.
"I know what you're going to say," she said before he could speak. "You'll be careful. You'll stay away from the fighting. You'll come back." A tremor passed through her voice. "So don't say it. Don't make promises you might not be able to keep."
"Mother..."
"Instead, I want you to listen." She stepped forward and gripped his shoulders, her hands stronger than he expected. "Whatever happens tomorrow. Whatever choices you have to make. Remember who you are. Not what you can do, not what secrets you're keeping, not whatever is happening inside you that I don't understand." Her eyes bore into his. "Who you are. Wang Ben. My son. Your father's son. Part of this family."
"I'll remember."
"See that you do." She released him and stepped back, composing herself with visible effort. "Now. I believe your father wants a word."
Wang Tian moved forward as Li Mei turned to gather Wang Chen from his cradle. For a moment, father and son stood facing each other, neither speaking.
"You've grown," Wang Tian said finally. "These past weeks. I look at you and sometimes I don't recognize the boy I raised."
"I'm still here."
"I know. That's what frightens me." His father's voice was soft. "You're becoming something. I don't know what. But whatever it is, it's taking you further from us with every passing day."
Wang Ben felt something tighten in his chest. "I'm not leaving."
"No. But you're changing. And change is its own kind of departure." Wang Tian reached out and gripped his son's arm, the same gesture Wang Ben remembered from childhood, from lessons in the workshop, from quiet moments when words weren't enough. "Whatever you become, Ben. Whatever you have to do to survive. Don't forget where you started. Don't forget that there are people who love you, not for what you can do, but for who you are."
"I won't."
"Then that's enough." Wang Tian released him and stepped back. "Now go. You have duties. So do I."
Wang Ben watched as his parents walked toward the gate, his mother carrying Wang Chen, his father's hand on the small of her back. At the threshold, Li Mei paused and looked back. Their eyes met across the courtyard.
No words. None were needed.
Then they were gone, and Wang Ben was alone with the empty cradle and the silence they'd left behind.
The final war council convened at midday.
The chamber felt different now. The maps on the table showed final positions, not possibilities. The elders spoke in clipped, precise sentences. There was no more room for debate. Only execution.
"Intelligence confirms the Xue Clan has not adjusted their eastern defenses," Grand Elder Wang Feng reported. "They still believe our main attack will target their western supply lines."
"And the mercenaries?" Patriarch Wang Tiexin's voice was dry as ever.
"Two days out. Our window is narrow but sufficient. If we strike at dawn tomorrow and press the advantage, we can cripple their eastern holdings before reinforcements arrive."
"The groups are ready," another elder confirmed. "Three waves. The first breaches the outer defenses, the second secures the storage facilities, the third covers the withdrawal."
"Casualties?"
"Estimated at fifteen to twenty percent of those we send." The elder's voice was flat. "Higher if the Xue Clan responds faster than anticipated."
Fifteen to twenty percent. Wang Ben did the math in his head. Thirty to forty cultivators wounded or killed in the first engagement alone. Families shattered. Lives ended. And this was just the opening move.
"The observation team is positioned on the eastern ridge," Wang Feng continued, turning to Wang Ben. "You'll have line of sight to both the Xue compound and our routes of attack. Your role is to track enemy movements and identify any irregularities."
"Irregularities," Patriarch Wang Tiexin said. "A polite word for the unknown watchers you reported."
"Yes, Patriarch."
"Have there been any further sightings? Any indication of who or what they might be?"
"No, Patriarch. My source has not made contact since delivering the warning."
The Patriarch's ancient eyes studied him for a long moment. "If these watchers reveal themselves during the attack, report immediately. Do not engage. Do not investigate. Simply observe and report."
"I understand."
"Do you?" The old man's voice carried an edge. "You are the youngest person in this room by half a century. You have talents that we value, knowledge that we need. But you are still body refinement. Still fragile. Do not let curiosity or courage lead you into situations you cannot survive."
"Yes, Patriarch."
The briefing continued for another hour, covering retreat paths, physician stations, and signal methods. Wang Ben absorbed it all, filing the information away in the corners of his mind where the System helped him organize and retain.
When it was over, the elders dispersed to their final preparations. Wang Feng caught Wang Ben's arm as he turned to leave.
"Your father asked me to watch over you." The Grand Elder's scarred face was unreadable. "I told him I would, within reason. Don't make me regret that promise."
"I won't."
"See that you don't." Wang Feng released him. "Now go. Find your team. Get into position before sunset."
Zhao Yu found him in the equipment hall.
Wang Ben was checking his supplies for the third time, a nervous habit he couldn't quite suppress. Water, rations, a basic medical kit. A signal mirror. The Golden Bell Shield Talisman, hidden in his inner pocket for emergencies only.
"You look terrible," Zhao Yu observed, dropping onto a bench beside him.
"I've been told I should stay alive. It's adding pressure."
"Staying alive is generally good advice." Zhao Yu's attempt at levity fell flat. His face was pale, his hands restless. "I wanted to... before tomorrow. I wanted to say something."
"Say it."
"I don't actually know what it is." Zhao Yu laughed, the sound more nervous than amused. "Something meaningful. Something that matters. In case we don't... in case one of us doesn't..."
"We'll both be fine."
"You don't know that."
"No. But I choose to believe it." Wang Ben finished his inventory and turned to face his friend. "You've trained for this. Your father trained for this. Whatever happens tomorrow, you're ready."
"Am I?" Zhao Yu's voice cracked slightly. "Peak body refinement. That's what I am. Peak of the lowest realm. Tomorrow I'll be fighting qi condensation cultivators who could crush me with a thought."
"You'll be with your father's team. They'll protect you."
"And who'll protect them?" Zhao Yu shook his head. "I keep thinking about what you said. About how I have instincts for combat. But instincts don't stop swords. Instincts don't block techniques."
Wang Ben gripped his friend's shoulder. "Then trust your team. Trust your training. And when the moment comes, trust yourself."
Zhao Yu met his eyes. For a moment, the fear was naked on his face. Then something shifted, some internal decision made.
"You've changed," he said quietly. "Ever since the beast tide. Maybe before. But you're still my friend. Whatever else you become, you're still that."
"Always."
"Then stay alive, too. I'm not going through this just to find out my best friend died on an observation post."
Sunset painted the sky in shades of red and gold.
Wang Ben stood on the eastern ridge with the other members of his observation team. Three qi condensation cultivators, experienced scouts who knew how to watch without being seen. And him, the body refinement oddity who was here because his mind was useful even if his body wasn't.
Below them, Redstone City was settling into an uneasy quiet. The streets were nearly empty, most civilians having retreated to their homes or shelters. The Xue Clan compound was visible in the distance, torches flickering along its walls. They were preparing too. Everyone was preparing.
"Get some rest," the team leader said. "We move to final positions at the fourth watch. Dawn comes early."
Wang Ben found a sheltered spot among the rocks and sat with his back against cold stone. The System provided a quiet status update.
[STATUS UPDATE]
[Body Tempering Pill absorption: 55.1%]
[Physical enhancement: +94% baseline]
[Projected advancement to Stage 9: 12 days]
[Note: Elevated stress accelerating integration]
[Note: Unknown external threat status unchanged]
[Recommendation: Rest while possible. Tomorrow begins the true test.]
He closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time coming.
The stars wheeled overhead in their ancient dance.
Wang Ben drifted in that space between waking and sleep, his mind churning through everything that had happened and everything that was coming. His parents, walking away with his baby brother. Dao Zhen, telling him not to die. Zhao Yu, afraid but determined. The elders, planning casualties like they were moving pieces on a board.
"You're thinking too loudly."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Wang Ben's eyes snapped open.
Shen Ruoxi sat on a rock three feet away, her presence as unexpected and unsettling as always. The starlight caught her features, making her look less human somehow. More like a painting come to life.
[ALERT: Subject Shen Ruoxi detected]
[Threat assessment: EXTREME]
[Note: Subject approach undetected by observation team]
"They can't hear us," she said, as if reading his thoughts. "I've made sure of that. This conversation is just for you."
"Why are you here?"
"Entertainment, as always." But her voice lacked its usual playful edge. "And perhaps a small kindness, though it pains me to admit such weakness."
"Kindness?"
"Tomorrow, the game changes. Violence. Death. All the messy complications of war." She tilted her head, studying him. "I wanted to see you one last time before you become something else."
"I'm not going to change."
"Everyone changes, little cultivator. War changes everyone." She rose from the rock in a single fluid motion. "But that's not why I came. I came to tell you something. A gift, if you will."
Wang Ben waited.
"The watchers I warned you about. They're still there. Still observing." Her eyes gleamed in the darkness. "But they won't interfere tomorrow. Not in the fighting itself. Whatever they're waiting for, it's not a simple clan war."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've been watching them watch you." A ghost of her usual smile crossed her face. "It's been quite entertaining. Layers upon layers, all of us observing each other."
"What do they want?"
"I don't know. And that's what makes it interesting." She began to fade, her presence thinning like morning mist. "Survive tomorrow, Wang Ben. The game is just beginning, and I'd hate to lose my favorite piece before the real moves start."
Then she was gone, and Wang Ben was alone with the stars and the weight of everything she'd said.
Dawn came slowly.
The sky shifted from black to gray to pale gold, light spreading across the eastern horizon like water filling a bowl. Wang Ben stood with his team on the ridge, watching the world wake to the first day of war.
Below, the Wang Clan compound stirred with purpose. He could see figures moving, formations gathering, the quiet efficiency of warriors who knew their roles. In the distance, the Xue Clan compound showed similar activity.
Everyone knew what was coming.
"Movement at the eastern gate," one of the scouts reported.
The tactical array flickered to life between them, formation lines etched into stone glowing with soft light. Position markers appeared as points of illumination on the simplified map, each one linked to talismans carried by the group leaders. Wang Clan formation work at its finest.
Wang Ben studied the array while his enhanced eyes tracked the actual movements below. From this height, with his late-stage body refinement sharpening every sense, he could make out the first Wang Clan group forming up, foundation establishment cultivators at the front, qi condensation support behind. His father would be at the treatment pavilion, waiting for the wounded who would soon arrive.
The sun crested the horizon.
Somewhere below, a horn sounded. Low and long, the note carrying across the city.
The grace period was over.
"Here we go," the team leader murmured.
The first wave moved forward, cultivators accelerating to speeds Wang Ben's eyes could barely track. Fire bloomed as techniques clashed against defensive formations. Shouts echoed across the distance, war cries and screams of pain mingling into a single terrible sound.
Wang Ben watched it all, the System helping him process the chaos into patterns and data. Tracking movements. Noting responses. Doing his duty.
But part of him was somewhere else entirely.
Part of him was thinking about his mother and brother in their safe house. About his father waiting for the wounded. About Zhao Yu, somewhere in that chaos, fighting for his life.
Part of him was thinking about Shen Ruoxi's words. The watchers. The game. The real moves that hadn't yet begun.
And part of him, deeper than conscious thought, stirred with echoes of battles he couldn't recall. Strategies from wars that surfaced like dreams. The weight of experience that felt borrowed rather than earned.
Below, the war continued.
Above, the unknown watchers waited.
And Wang Ben stood between them, observation and observer, watching the world he knew begin to burn.
END OF CHAPTER 39