The signal fires burned through the night.
Wang Ben didn't sleep. He sat at the observation post, watching those three distant flames mark the western road like wounds in the darkness. The mercenaries were supposed to arrive tomorrow. They were supposed to give the alliance another day to consolidate, to rest, to prepare.
They hadn't.
Dawn came gray and cold, mist rising from the city below like the breath of something vast and patient. The scouts confirmed what the fires had promised: three squads of professional killers, already at the city's western gate. At least two core formation cultivators among them, possibly more. The kind of force that could break a clan war wide open.
"They pushed through the night," Zhou Wei said, his voice flat. "No rest stops. No delays. Someone paid extra for speed."
Wang Ben stared at the distant Xue compound. Fresh activity stirred along their walls, cultivators moving with renewed purpose. They knew. Of course they knew. They'd been waiting for this.
"Signal the compound," he said. "The Grand Elder needs to know."
The war council convened before the sun had fully risen.
The chamber felt different now. Yesterday's victory hung in the air like old incense, already fading. The formation array on the central table showed the battlefield in harsh clarity: Wang and Dao positions marked in blue, Xue positions in red, and now a cluster of yellow markers approaching from the west.
"Professional mercenary company," Grand Elder Wang Feng reported. "My scouts identify at least twelve cultivators. Two confirmed core formation, possibly a third. The rest are foundation establishment and qi condensation."
Silence fell over the council. Wang Ben did the math in his head. Two or three core formation cultivators would shift the balance entirely. The Wang Clan had Grand Elder Wang Feng at mid-stage core formation, and Patriarch Wang Tiexin at early-stage. The Dao Clan's Grand Elder Dao Lingwei was mid-stage as well. Against that, the Xue Clan had their own core formation elders, and now...
The numbers didn't favor them. Not anymore.
"They're not here to defend," Patriarch Wang Tiexin said quietly. "They're here to attack."
"The Xue Clan lost their eastern compound yesterday. They're desperate." Wang Feng's scarred face showed nothing. "Desperate men make bold moves."
"And stupid ones." Elder Wang Hui leaned forward. "Hiring mercenaries of this caliber must have cost them a fortune. Where is the money coming from?"
No one answered, but Wang Ben thought of the intelligence Zhao Yu had gathered. Three hundred percent overspend. External funding from sources unknown. The Crimson Bastion connection that they'd confirmed but couldn't fully explain.
Someone wanted the Wang Clan destroyed. Someone with very deep pockets.
"Our strategy?" the Patriarch asked.
"We consolidate." Wang Feng moved markers on the array. "Pull back from the exposed forward positions. Let them come to us. Our formations are stronger on the defensive, and we have the advantage of prepared ground."
"And the observation teams?"
Wang Feng's eyes found Wang Ben across the room. "Pulled back to secondary positions. The ridge is too exposed now. If the mercenaries push east, anyone there will be cut off."
Wang Ben nodded. He understood. Yesterday he'd been an asset. Today he might become a liability.
"The Dao Clan is repositioning as well," the Grand Elder continued. "We fight together or we fall separately. No more scattered engagements. From this point forward, we move as a unified force."
The council continued for another hour, discussing positions and contingencies. Wang Ben listened, absorbed, filed away every detail. But beneath the strategic calculations, something else stirred.
Three points of fire in the darkness. The same number as the markers that had gone dark.
The war's second day was about to begin.
The mercenaries struck at midday.
Wang Ben was with the secondary observation team, positioned on a lower ridge south of their original post, when the attack came. Not at the Wang compound. Not at the secured eastern holdings. At a supply convoy moving between the two.
"Ambush formation," Zhou Wei hissed, his eyes fixed on the distant road. "They knew the route. They knew the timing."
Below, Wang Ben watched it happen with terrible clarity. The convoy guards, mostly qi condensation cultivators with a few foundation establishment escorts, had no chance. The mercenaries moved like a single organism, cutting off retreat, eliminating the strongest defenders first, then methodically working through the rest.
It was over in minutes.
"Signal for reinforcement?" one of the scouts asked.
"Too late." Zhou Wei's voice was bitter. "By the time anyone arrives, they'll be gone."
Wang Ben's hands curled into fists. Supplies lost. Cultivators dead or wounded. And they could only watch.
[OBSERVATION: Mercenary tactics display professional coordination]
[Analysis: Attack pattern suggests prior intelligence on convoy routes]
[Probability of information leak: 67%]
[Note: Wang Rui (identified spy) may have provided this data before counterintelligence measures took effect]
Wang Ben filed the observation away. The spy they'd identified, Wang Rui, had been fed false information for days. But before that, he'd been leaking real intelligence. The mercenaries might be acting on outdated data, or the Xue Clan might have other sources.
Either way, people were dying.
"Movement," another scout reported. "Western approach. Foundation establishment signatures, at least four."
Wang Ben turned. A group of cultivators was working their way up the ridge, using the terrain for cover. Not mercenaries, based on their movement patterns. Xue Clan regulars, probably sent to secure the observation points while the mercenaries tied up the alliance's main forces.
"We need to withdraw," Zhou Wei said. "Now. Before they cut us off."
They moved.
The withdrawal became a running fight.
Wang Ben had never experienced anything like it. The training with Dao Zhen, the first day's battle, even the chaos of the beast tide, none of it had prepared him for this. Foundation establishment cultivators moved faster than his enhanced eyes could track. Techniques screamed through the air, leaving trails of fire and force that made his ears ring.
He ran. That was all he could do. Run, and trust the instincts that whispered from somewhere deeper than conscious thought.
Left. Now.
He dove left as a blade of compressed air sliced through the space he'd occupied. The technique carved a furrow in the stone behind him, deep enough to bury a man.
Down. Roll.
He dropped, rolled, came up running as fire bloomed overhead. A Xue cultivator cursed, adjusting his aim.
Zhou Wei and the other scouts were fighting, buying time for those who couldn't match their speed. Wang Ben was the weakest member of the team by a full realm. In a straight fight, he'd last seconds.
But this wasn't a straight fight. This was chaos, and chaos had patterns.
[COMBAT ANALYSIS: Active]
[Threat proximity: Multiple. Closing.]
[ALERT: Late-stage foundation establishment cultivator, twelve paces, preparing technique]
[Threat analysis: Hand positioning and qi gathering pattern consistent with Wind Blade technique]
[Projected attack vector: Forward arc, wide dispersal]
[Time to impact: Approximately 2 seconds based on observed preparation speed]
[Recommendation: Lateral movement, northwest]
Wang Ben moved before he'd finished processing the text. Northwest, three quick steps, behind a boulder that caught the dispersal technique's edge. Stone chips sprayed against his back, but the main force of the attack passed him by.
Two seconds. The System had given him two seconds of warning based on what he'd seen.
Not prediction. Analysis. The System was processing his observations faster than his conscious mind could, recognizing patterns in enemy movements that his eyes caught but his brain couldn't interpret quickly enough.
[Clarification: Threat analysis includes attack pattern recognition when Host observes preparation movements]
[Limitation: Analysis speed dependent on observable data. Cannot analyze attacks Host does not observe]
He didn't have time to marvel at it. Another attack was coming, another flash of danger that his body responded to before his mind could catch up. He ran, dodged, used every scrap of cover the terrain offered.
The others were pulling ahead. Zhou Wei glanced back, saw Wang Ben falling behind, made a decision.
"Keep moving!" the team leader shouted. "I'll cover!"
"No." Wang Ben's voice came out steadier than he felt. "I know the path. There's a ravine two hundred paces east. It connects to the valley we cleared yesterday. If we can reach it, they won't be able to follow without exposing themselves to our archers."
Zhou Wei hesitated. Behind them, the Xue cultivators were closing. Four foundation establishment, one of them late-stage. Against a group of qi condensation scouts and one body refinement youth.
"How do you know about the ravine?"
"I noticed it during yesterday's approach." That was true. What he didn't say was that the System had mapped every escape route within a mile of their position, cross-referencing terrain with escape probabilities. "Trust me."
Zhou Wei made his choice. "Lead."
Wang Ben led.
The ravine was exactly where he remembered.
They made it with seconds to spare, sliding down the steep slope as techniques crashed against the rocks above. The Xue cultivators pulled up short at the edge, unwilling to follow into terrain that would strip them of their mobility advantage.
"Fall back!" one of them shouted. "They're not worth the risk. The convoy was the objective."
Wang Ben pressed himself against the ravine wall, gasping for breath. His legs burned. His lungs screamed. Every muscle in his body felt ready to tear itself apart.
But he was alive.
Zhou Wei slid down beside him, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. He didn't speak at first, just caught his breath, eyes tracking the ravine walls for pursuit.
When he finally looked at Wang Ben, something flickered in his expression. A question, maybe. But he didn't ask it.
"Everyone made it," he said instead. "We all made it."
Some questions were better left alone.
They made their way through the ravine in silence, moving toward the valley and the relative safety of the alliance's defensive lines. Above them, the Xue cultivators withdrew to rejoin the main assault.
The war continued.
The fighting raged through the afternoon.
Wang Ben was pulled back to the compound proper, reassigned from field observation to the command post. He chafed at the restriction, but he understood the logic. Body refinement cultivators had no business on a battlefield where foundation establishment techniques tore through the air.
So he watched from the walls. Tracked the movements on the formation array. Made observations that the elders had learned to take seriously.
"The mercenaries are probing the northern walls," he said, pointing to a cluster of markers. "Not a real assault. They're looking for weak points in our defensive formations."
"How can you tell?" Elder Wang Hui demanded.
"Watch how they fight. Advance, test, withdraw. If they wanted to break through, they'd press harder." Wang Ben traced the lines on the array. "They're learning where we're weak."
Wang Hui stared at him for a long moment. "You're fifteen years old."
"Yes, Elder."
"And body refinement."
"Yes, Elder."
Wang Hui's eyes narrowed, but whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.
"I notice things," Wang Ben said into the silence. "That's all."
Wang Hui turned back to the array without comment.
When the mercenaries struck in late afternoon, they came through the northern approach. The reinforcements the elders had positioned based on Wang Ben's observations held the line.
The battle pushed back and forth through the evening. Ground taken and yielded. Cultivators fell on both sides, adding to the toll that had begun yesterday.
Reports filtered in from the core formation engagements. Wang Feng had clashed with one of the mercenary leaders near the western gate. The fight had ended inconclusively, both sides withdrawing. But the messenger's face told a different story. The Grand Elder hadn't dominated the way he should have. The mercenary was strong.
Too strong, Wang Ben thought. Or is our Grand Elder weaker than we're letting on?
He filed the observation away with all the others.
Wang Ben kept watching. Kept feeding observations to the elders who had learned to listen.
Near sunset, he slipped away from the command post, following a hunch that refused to stay quiet. The mercenaries' probing attacks had created a gap in the southern patrol routes, a window of vulnerability that the formation array hadn't caught yet. He needed to confirm it before reporting.
He was three streets from the outer wall when he felt it.
Not spiritual pressure. He couldn't sense that. But something, instinct born of dreams and battle-knowledge he'd never earned, screamed warning through every fiber of his being.
Danger. Extreme. Now.
He spun.
The Xue Clan elder emerged from the shadow of a collapsed building, his presence filling the narrow street like a physical force. Late-stage foundation establishment, Wang Ben's mind supplied. Peak, possibly. The kind of cultivator who could kill him with a gesture.
"The Wang Clan's little strategist." The elder's voice was silk over steel. "You've been very busy, haven't you? Very... useful."
Wang Ben's hand moved toward his inner pocket, where the Golden Bell Shield Talisman waited. One use. It would block a single attack from a cultivator of this level.
One attack. Then he would die anyway.
"The Patriarch is very interested in how a body refinement boy sees so much." The elder began walking forward, each step deliberate. "Perhaps we'll ask you. After we've broken your legs so you can't run."
Wang Ben's mind raced. No backup. No escape route. The gap in patrol coverage that he'd come to investigate now worked against him.
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: Peak foundation establishment]
[Combat probability analysis: 0.00% chance of victory]
[Survival probability without intervention: 0.00%]
[Recommendation: Activate emergency talisman. Buy time. Pray.]
The elder raised his hand. Spiritual energy gathered, visible even to Wang Ben's qi-blind eyes as a distortion in the air.
"Last words, boy?"
Wang Ben opened his mouth.
And a finger pressed against the elder's wrist.
Shen Ruoxi appeared like a dream given form.
One moment the street held only Wang Ben and his executioner. The next, she was there, standing beside the elder as if she'd always been present. Her finger rested on his wrist with the casual pressure of someone testing the ripeness of fruit.
"Careful," she said pleasantly. "This one is mine to watch."
The elder's technique died unfinished. His face, which had been twisted with predatory satisfaction, went pale. Then white. Then a shade that suggested he might be sick.
"You," he breathed.
"Me." Shen Ruoxi smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. "I don't believe we've met. I'm the person who's going to let you walk away. Once."
The elder's spiritual pressure fluctuated wildly, something Wang Ben could see in the way the air around him shimmered and distorted. He was foundation establishment peak. Against mortal shedding peak, he was nothing.
Less than nothing.
"I didn't know," the elder stammered. "The boy, I didn't realize he was under your protection."
"Protection is a strong word. Entertainment is closer." She tilted her head, studying him like a specimen. "But even entertainment has value. And you were about to damage something I find interesting."
"I'll go. I'll withdraw. I'll tell the Patriarch..."
"Tell him whatever you like." Shen Ruoxi's finger lifted from his wrist. "But if I see you near this one again, I won't give you the chance to apologize."
The elder ran. There was no other word for it. A foundation establishment peak cultivator, veteran of decades of combat, fled like a child from a nightmare.
Shen Ruoxi watched him go with mild amusement.
"You could have let me handle it," Wang Ben said. His voice was steadier than he expected, given that his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest.
"Handle it?" She turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. "You were about to die."
"I had a talisman."
"That would have bought you, what, three seconds? Four?" She patted his head like he was a particularly clever dog. "You were about to die, little cultivator. Accept the rescue with grace."
"I'm not graceful."
"No," she agreed. "You're stubborn, reckless, and far too willing to throw yourself into danger when you can't actually defend yourself." Her eyes glittered in the fading light. "I like that about you. Don't let it get you killed before I figure out what you are."
"What I am is late for a patrol report."
"Lies. You slipped away from the command post to investigate a gap in coverage that no one else had noticed." She smiled at his expression. "Yes, I've been watching. It's what I do."
Wang Ben had no response to that.
"Go back," she said, her form already beginning to fade, to become somehow less present despite not moving at all. "Report your gap. Save some lives. And try not to wander into any more ambushes."
"That's it? No cryptic warnings? No hints about what's coming?"
"Oh, something is coming." Her voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Something that will make today's fighting look like children squabbling over toys. But that's tomorrow's problem."
Then she was gone, and Wang Ben was alone in the empty street, heart pounding, mind racing.
Something coming. Something worse than mercenaries and clan war.
He filed the warning away and ran.
The fighting died with the sun.
Neither side had the resources for night operations after a full day of combat. The mercenaries pulled back to the Xue compound. The Wang and Dao forces consolidated their positions. Physicians worked through the evening, treating wounds that ranged from minor cuts to injuries that would end cultivation careers.
Wang Ben found his father in the treatment pavilion.
Wang Tian looked exhausted. His robes were stained with blood that wasn't his own, and his eyes had the hollow quality of a man who had seen too much suffering in too short a time. But when he saw Wang Ben, something in his expression softened.
"You're alive."
"I'm alive."
"Zhou Wei reported what happened. The ravine, the escape." Wang Tian's hand gripped his shoulder. "He also reported that a Xue elder cornered you in the southern district."
Wang Ben hesitated. "He... decided I wasn't worth the trouble."
"Wang Ben."
"A friend intervened."
Wang Tian studied his son's face for a long moment. Whatever he saw there made him sigh. "The same friend who appeared at our dinner table. The one with cultivation that terrified me to my bones."
"Yes."
"And she's protecting you. For reasons you won't explain."
"Can't explain," Wang Ben corrected. "She finds me interesting. I don't know why. I don't know what she wants. But today, she saved my life."
Wang Tian was quiet. Around them, the pavilion hummed with activity, physicians moving between patients, cultivators groaning on pallets as wounds were cleaned and sealed. The human cost of war, laid out in blood and suffering.
"I should tell you to stay away from her," Wang Tian said finally. "She's dangerous. Whatever her interest in you, it can't be simple."
"It isn't."
"But she saved your life."
"Yes."
"Then I'll reserve judgment." Wang Tian's grip tightened briefly, then released. "The mercenaries worry you."
It wasn't a question.
"They should worry everyone. Their core formation cultivators..."
"Are a concern. Yes." But something flickered across Wang Tian's face. Something that looked almost like... anticipation? "The elders prepared for this, Ben. More than the Xue Clan knows. More than anyone outside the inner council knows."
Wang Ben studied his father. The exhaustion was real. The worry for his son was real. But underneath it...
"You're not as afraid as you should be."
Wang Tian's smile was thin. "I've spent nine years being afraid. Afraid of what I'd lost. Afraid of what I couldn't give my family. But these past weeks..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Tomorrow. You'll understand tomorrow. For now, just know that we're not as outmatched as we appear."
He turned back to his work, then paused. "Your mother sent another message this evening. She and Chen are still safe." A ghost of a smile. "I didn't tell her about the ambush. Or the intervention. Or any of the dozen other ways you've apparently thrown yourself into danger today."
"Probably wise."
"Probably." Wang Tian's attention returned to the wounded cultivator on the pallet before him. "Go rest. Tomorrow will be worse."
Wang Ben wanted to argue. Wanted to say that he could help here, in the pavilion, doing something useful instead of waiting. But he saw the exhaustion in his father's movements, the weight of too many patients and not enough time.
His father didn't need help. He needed his son alive and out of the way.
"Tomorrow," Wang Ben agreed, and left the pavilion.
He found Zhao Yu in the recovery area.
His friend was sitting up, arm still bandaged but clearly healing. The wound that had been deep and dangerous yesterday was now merely serious. Cultivation accelerated everything, including recovery.
"You look terrible," Zhao Yu said.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true." Zhao Yu shifted to make room on the bench. "I heard about the ambush. The elder who cornered you."
"Word travels fast."
"It's a war. Gossip is the only entertainment." Zhao Yu's expression grew serious. "They say something intervened. Something that scared a peak foundation establishment cultivator badly enough to make him run."
"Something."
"Or someone." Zhao Yu studied him. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"I don't know how to explain it." That was true enough. How did you explain Shen Ruoxi? How did you describe a mortal shedding cultivator who found you amusing for reasons you couldn't fathom?
"Then don't." Zhao Yu leaned back against the wall. "Whatever it is, whoever they are, they saved your life. That's enough for now."
They sat in silence as the stars emerged overhead. Somewhere in the compound, cultivators were fortifying positions. Somewhere else, physicians were saving lives or losing them. The war continued, even in the quiet moments.
"The mercenaries change things," Zhao Yu said eventually.
"They do."
"Two core formation cultivators. Maybe three. That's more than we expected."
"It's more than anyone expected." Wang Ben's voice was distant. "Someone is funding the Xue Clan. Someone with resources beyond anything a frontier clan should have. And they want us destroyed."
"Do you know who?"
Wang Ben thought of the Crimson Bastion connection. The three hundred percent overspend. The external forces that Shen Ruoxi had warned him about.
"Pieces," he said. "I have pieces. Not the full picture yet."
"But you will."
It wasn't a question. Wang Ben looked at his friend, saw the absolute certainty in his eyes.
"When did you start believing I could figure out anything?"
"When you saved my life." Zhao Yu's voice was quiet but firm. "Twice now, Wang Ben. The Jade Snow Wolf and yesterday." He met Wang Ben's eyes. "Whatever happens tomorrow, I've got your back. You know that, right?"
"I know."
"Good." Zhao Yu leaned back against the wall. "Then we'll figure out the rest as it comes."
The stars wheeled overhead. The same stars that had watched a hundred wars in this city. The same stars that would watch a hundred more.
Somewhere to the west, signal fires had burned through the night. Tomorrow, the mercenaries would attack again. And somewhere beyond that, something worse was coming. Shen Ruoxi's warning echoed in Wang Ben's mind: Something that will make today's fighting look like children squabbling over toys.
He didn't know what she meant. But he intended to find out.
"Get some rest," he told Zhao Yu. "Tomorrow will be worse."
"You sound like your father."
"He's usually right."
Wang Ben rose, leaving his friend to heal. The compound was quieter now, the frenzy of the day settling into exhausted stillness. Tomorrow, it would all begin again. The fighting, the dying, the desperate struggle for survival.
But tonight, he needed to think.
Something was coming. Something beyond mercenaries and clan politics.
And Wang Ben had the terrible feeling that when it arrived, even Shen Ruoxi's intervention wouldn't be enough.
END OF CHAPTER 42