They came with the dawn.
Wang Ben had been on the wall all night, watching the northern road with eyes that burned from exhaustion and a body that hummed with barely contained energy. The cultivation pressure had grown worse in the hours since Shen Ruoxi's warning, a constant tightness in his chest that made every breath feel like a battle.
And then the sun rose, and the shadows on the northern road resolved into shapes.
Wang Ben gripped the parapet, forcing his tired eyes to focus. The morning mist clung to the road, but even through it he could see the column of figures approaching. Dozens of them. Moving with the unhurried confidence of predators who knew their prey had nowhere to run.
He couldn't sense their cultivation. Body refinement cultivators had no spiritual senses. But he didn't need them.
Because the three figures at the front weren't hiding.
Their auras crashed down on the city like invisible waves, pressure that made Wang Ben's chest tighten and his ears ring. Even from this distance, even without the ability to sense qi, he could feel the weight of their presence. It was deliberate. A message. We are coming, and there is nothing you can do.
Beside him, a core formation elder had gone pale. "Three of them," the man whispered. "Three mortal shedding cultivators. The tall one in front... he's at least mid-stage. Maybe higher."
[CROSS-REFERENCING OBSERVED DATA WITH ELDER'S ASSESSMENT]
[Threat analysis updated based on spiritual pressure patterns]
[Primary threats: 3 mortal shedding cultivators (stages unconfirmed)]
[Secondary threats: 15-25 additional cultivators (realms unconfirmed, estimated core formation and foundation establishment based on formation discipline)]
[Analysis: Force composition consistent with conquest-oriented deployment]
[Survival probability against this force: Insufficient data. Estimate: Critical.]
The elder's words hit him like a physical blow. Three mortal shedding cultivators. Not one. Three.
The strongest cultivator in Redstone City was City Lord Huo at core formation stage five. Grand Elder Huo Feng at core formation stage eight. Grand Elder Wang Feng at core formation stage seven after his recent advancement. Every one of them combined couldn't match a single mortal shedding cultivator.
And there were three.
"Sound the alarm," Wang Ben heard himself say. His voice sounded distant, disconnected from the ice spreading through his chest. "Sound every alarm we have."
The observer beside him didn't move. The young man was staring at the approaching column with the blank expression of someone whose mind had simply stopped processing.
"NOW."
The shout broke the paralysis. Within moments, the alarm bells were ringing across the Wang Clan compound, their urgent clamor spreading outward like ripples in a pond.
The war council chamber had never been so full.
Wang Ben stood near the wall, trying to stay out of the way as cultivators from every faction crowded into the space. The Wang Clan elders. Dao Clan representatives, including Grand Elder Dao Lingwei herself. Even a contingent from the Huo Clan, led by the City Lord's own aide.
The Xue Clan had not been invited.
"You're certain of these numbers?" Grand Elder Wang Feng's voice was controlled, but Wang Ben could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand kept drifting toward his sword.
"The System..." Wang Ben caught himself. "My analysis is certain. Three mortal shedding cultivators, supported by core formation and foundation establishment forces. They'll reach the city within the hour."
"Impossible." The Huo Clan aide shook his head sharply. "Mortal shedding cultivators don't operate in frontier territories. The regional powers would never allow..."
"The regional powers don't know they're here." Grand Elder Dao Lingwei's voice cut through the murmur of denial. She stood near the center of the room, white hair pulled back severely, her expression carved from stone. "Or they do know, and they've chosen not to act. Either way, the threat is real."
"How can you be sure?"
Dao Lingwei's eyes swept the room. "Because I've fought demonic cultivators before. Forty years ago, when they tried to establish a foothold in the Azure Crimson Kingdom's border regions. I recognize the formation pattern. The way they move." Her voice hardened. "These are Jin Wolf faction operatives. They've been building influence in this region for years. The Xue Clan was simply their tool."
The silence that followed was absolute.
"The Xue Patriarch..." someone began.
"Invited them." Dao Lingwei's words fell like hammer blows. "When we destroyed his mercenary support, he reached out to the only power that would answer. He sold his clan to demons for the chance at victory."
Wang Ben watched the reactions cascade through the room. Shock. Horror. Rage. The implications were staggering. The Xue Clan hadn't just attacked their neighbors. They'd committed the one sin that united all legitimate cultivation factions.
They'd allied with demonic cultivators.
"This changes everything." City Lord Huo's aide stepped forward, his earlier skepticism replaced by grim purpose. "The ceasefire is void. All conflicts between the clans are suspended until this external threat is eliminated."
"Eliminated?" Elder Wang Hui laughed bitterly, gesturing at the map spread across the central table. "How? With what? Our entire combined strength couldn't match one mortal shedding cultivator, let alone three."
"We can delay." Grand Elder Wang Feng moved to the map, his finger tracing defensive positions. "Fall back to the inner districts. Force them to fight through fortified positions. Buy time for evacuations."
"Buy time for what?" another elder demanded. "Who's coming to save us? The regional sects? They're weeks away at best. The kingdom's forces? Months."
"Then we die well." Dao Lingwei's voice was quiet, but it carried through the chaos. "We die as cultivators, defending our people. We make them bleed for every street, every building, every life they take."
Wang Ben felt his heart clench at the certainty in her voice. This wasn't bravado. This was a woman who had assessed the situation, found it hopeless, and chosen to fight anyway.
"There may be another option."
Every eye turned to him. Wang Ben felt the weight of their attention, the skepticism of elders who saw only a fifteen-year-old body refinement cultivator speaking about matters far beyond his realm.
"The forces that have been watching us," he continued, keeping his voice steady. "The ones I reported before the fighting started. They're not allied with the demonic cultivators. If anything, they're opposed to this kind of expansion."
"You're suggesting we ask for help from unknown powers?" Elder Wang Hui's voice dripped with disbelief. "Powers we can't identify, can't verify, can't trust?"
"I'm suggesting we explore every option before we decide to die."
The silence stretched. Wang Ben could feel his father's eyes on him from across the room, could sense the questions Wang Tian wanted to ask but couldn't. Not here. Not now.
"The boy raises a valid point." Dao Lingwei's voice cut through the tension. "If there are external parties with interests opposed to the demonic factions, we should at least attempt contact." Her eyes found Wang Ben's, and something flickered there. Recognition, perhaps. Or evaluation. "Can you reach them?"
"I can try."
"Then try." She turned back to the map, dismissing the matter. "In the meantime, we prepare for the worst. Zhou Wei, I want evacuation routes mapped within the hour. Wang Feng, coordinate defensive positions with the Huo representatives. We have perhaps two hours before they reach the walls."
The council dissolved into organized chaos, cultivators breaking into groups, shouting orders, racing to prepare for a battle they couldn't win.
Wang Ben slipped toward the door.
He found Dao Zhen on the eastern wall, staring at the approaching column with empty eyes.
The Dao heir looked older than his twenty-four years. The war had carved new lines into his face, and the news of his father's true condition had hollowed something behind his gaze. Now, watching mortal shedding cultivators approach to destroy everything he'd ever known, that hollowness had deepened into something that looked almost like acceptance.
"You should be with your grandmother," Wang Ben said quietly.
"She sent me away." Dao Zhen's voice was flat. "Said she needed to focus. Said I'd be a distraction."
"She's protecting you."
"She's saying goodbye." Dao Zhen finally looked at him, and Wang Ben saw the grief beneath the emptiness. "She knows she can't win. Core formation against mortal shedding. The gap is..." He shook his head. "She's going to die, Wang Ben. My father is dying in his bed, and my grandmother is going to die on that battlefield, and there's nothing I can do about it."
Wang Ben had no words of comfort. There were none to offer. The mathematics of cultivation were brutal and absolute. A core formation cultivator could not defeat a mortal shedding opponent. The gulf between the realms was too vast, the power too unequal.
"She's not doing it for nothing," he said instead. "Every moment she buys is a moment for civilians to escape. Every minute of delay is lives saved."
"And that's supposed to make it better?"
"No. It's supposed to make it mean something."
Dao Zhen stared at him for a long moment. Then something shifted in his expression. Not acceptance exactly, but... recognition.
"You're planning something." It wasn't a question. "That talk about external powers. You know something the rest of them don't."
Wang Ben hesitated. The Shen siblings weren't his secret to share. But Dao Zhen deserved something. Some hope to hold onto in the darkness.
"I know people who might help. But I can't make promises. I can't guarantee anything. The only thing I can guarantee is that I'm going to try."
"Why?" Dao Zhen's voice cracked slightly. "Why do you care? A month ago we were strangers. This alliance was supposed to be politics, mutual convenience. Why would you..."
"Because some things matter more than politics." Wang Ben turned toward the stairs. "Stay alive, Dao Zhen. Whatever happens next, stay alive. Your clan is going to need you."
He left before the other cultivator could respond.
The treatment pavilion was chaos.
Physicians rushed between patients, preparing supplies that might never be used, setting up surgical stations for wounds that hadn't been inflicted yet. The air smelled of herbs and fear.
Wang Ben found his father in the back room, surrounded by pill bottles and medical supplies, working with the focused intensity of a man trying not to think about what was coming.
"You should be in the command center," Wang Tian said without looking up. "The Grand Elder needs your observations."
"The Grand Elder has a dozen observers. He doesn't need me specifically."
"Then what are you doing here?"
Wang Ben closed the door behind him. The sounds of the pavilion faded to a distant murmur.
"I'm going to try something. Something that might save us, or might accomplish nothing at all. But if it works, it's going to raise questions. Questions about how I knew certain things. About connections I shouldn't have."
Wang Tian finally looked up. His face was calm, but Wang Ben could see the fear beneath the surface. Not fear of the demonic cultivators. Fear for his son.
"The ancient power," Wang Tian said quietly. "The one you told me about. The one watching you."
"Her brother. He's more... approachable."
"More approachable than what?"
"Than someone who describes people as entertainment."
Wang Tian was silent for a long moment. His hands, still holding a pill bottle, trembled almost imperceptibly.
"Ben'er." His voice was rough. "If you're asking my permission..."
"I'm not asking permission. I'm telling you because you deserve to know. Because if this works, people are going to wonder how. And because if it doesn't work..." Wang Ben swallowed. "If it doesn't work, I wanted you to understand that I tried everything. That I didn't just give up."
His father crossed the room in three quick steps and pulled him into an embrace. It was brief, fierce, and said everything that words couldn't.
"Come back," Wang Tian whispered. "Whatever you're doing, whatever deals you're making. Come back."
"I will."
He wasn't sure if it was a promise or a prayer.
The trembling started as he left the compound.
Wang Ben felt it first in his hands, then spreading up his arms, a resonance deep in his bones that had nothing to do with fear. The cultivation pressure that had been building for days was reaching a critical point. His body was saturated with refined energy, pushing against limits that were never meant to hold.
[STATUS UPDATE]
[Body Tempering Pill absorption: 98.7%]
[Physical enhancement: +327% baseline]
[Warning: Breakthrough imminent]
[Note: Extreme stress may accelerate advancement timeline. Current conditions suboptimal for controlled breakthrough.]
Not now. Wang Ben forced his breathing to steady, pushed down the energy trying to burst free from his meridians. I can't break through now. Not in the middle of this.
But his body wasn't listening. The energy continued to build, pressing against the walls of his cultivation like water against a dam. Somewhere in the distance, alarm bells were still ringing. Somewhere beyond the walls, three mortal shedding cultivators were approaching with murder in their hearts.
And somewhere in the city, in a tea house that shouldn't exist, a monster in human form was waiting to see if Wang Ben could offer him something worth his attention.
The cultivation pressure spiked again. Wang Ben gasped, stumbling slightly, catching himself against a wall. His vision swam.
[Warning: Breakthrough threshold approaching]
[Estimated time to involuntary advancement: 4-8 hours]
[Recommend: Controlled environment for breakthrough]
I don't have four hours. I might not have four minutes.
He pushed off the wall and kept walking. Toward The Quiet Cup. Toward Shen Wuyan. Toward whatever chance remained.
Behind him, the demonic cultivators reached the outer walls of Redstone City.
The war for survival had begun.
END OF CHAPTER 47