The Formation Master's shop was closed.
Wang Ben stared at the wooden shutters, sealed tight against the morning light. A small notice had been posted on the door, the characters hasty and uneven: "Closed for personal matters. Duration uncertain."
"That's the fifth shop," Zhao Yu said quietly. "Fifth that was supposed to be open."
Wang Ben didn't respond immediately. He stood in the narrow street of the artisan quarter, watching the flow of people around them. Craftsmen hurried past with bundles of materials. A group of apprentices clustered near a calligraphy shop, arguing about brush techniques. Everything appeared normal, except for the way conversations died when he and Zhao Yu approached.
The Formation Master had been his last real hope. An eccentric old cultivator who cared more about interesting problems than political associations. Who had, three months ago, happily discussed array theory with Wang Ben for an entire afternoon.
Now his shop was closed, and Wang Ben suspected the timing was not coincidental.
[PATTERN ANALYSIS: Material acquisition failure rate]
[Previous baseline: 12% rejection rate across standard suppliers]
[Current session: 100% rejection rate (5 of 5 attempted)]
[Assessment: Coordinated avoidance behavior. Political isolation in effect.]
"What do we do now?" Zhao Yu asked.
Before Wang Ben could answer, a commotion erupted from the direction of the main market square. Voices rose in a swell of excitement, and people began moving toward the sound like water flowing downhill.
"What's happening?"
A merchant hurrying past paused long enough to answer. "Royal entourage. One of the princes arrived this morning."
Wang Ben exchanged a glance with Zhao Yu. A prince, here? Redstone City was a frontier settlement, far from the capital's attention. For royalty to appear personally meant something significant was happening.
They followed the crowd.
The central square of Redstone City had been transformed.
Soldiers in crimson and gold armor lined the perimeter, their cultivation signatures ranging from late-stage qi condensation to early foundation establishment. Banners bearing the Azure Crimson Kingdom's phoenix emblem fluttered from hastily-erected poles. A raised platform had been constructed at the square's center, solid wood and red cloth, the kind of staging that cultivators who knew what they were doing could assemble between dawn and noon.
And on that platform stood a man who drew the eye like a flame in darkness.
[ALERT: High-level cultivator detected]
[Classification: Human cultivator, core formation class]
[Threat assessment: Absolute within current capability parameters]
[Note: Cultivation signature deliberately unconcealed. Display of authority.]
The prince was tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of physical presence that came from decades of actual combat rather than refined cultivation alone. His robes were military cut rather than courtly, practical rather than ornamental. A scar traced a pale line from his left temple to his jaw, the kind of wound that could have been healed flawlessly by any competent physician but had been left as a mark of pride.
His eyes swept the crowd with the assessment of a general evaluating troops rather than a noble surveying subjects.
"Citizens of Redstone," the prince's voice carried easily across the square, amplified by subtle formations but lacking the affected grandeur of court speech. "I am Huo Zhanlong. You may know me as the Battle Dragon."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Wang Ben caught fragments of whispered conversation.
"...the prince who held the Western Ridge for three months..."
"...they say he killed a Frozen Jade general himself..."
"...thought he never left the front..."
"I haven't come to your city for politics or ceremony." Huo Zhanlong's voice cut through the whispers. "I've come because the kingdom needs you. All of you who can fight."
The square fell silent.
"The western front is failing."
The words landed like stones dropped into still water. Wang Ben felt the collective intake of breath around him, the sudden sharpening of attention from every cultivator in the crowd.
"The official reports tell you that Azure Dragon Fortress holds strong. That our armies are containing the Frozen Jade advance. That the war is distant, someone else's concern." Huo Zhanlong's expression hardened. "The official reports are lies."
[ASSESSMENT: Subject Huo Zhanlong displaying unconventional communication approach]
[Deviation from standard royal rhetoric: Significant]
[Analysis: Either genuine desperation or calculated strategy to establish trust through apparent honesty]
[Insufficient data to determine which]
"In the past season alone, Azure Dragon Fortress has lost over four hundred cultivators. Good soldiers. Men and women who trusted that reinforcements would come." The prince's hands gripped the platform's railing. "The Frozen Jade Kingdom has committed their Beast Corps to the assault. Corrupted spirit beasts, some of them equivalent to nascent soul class, led by handlers who have given their humanity for power."
Zhao Yu's hand had moved to his sword without conscious thought. Wang Ben noticed the similar tension in cultivators throughout the crowd. The western war had always been an abstraction, a distant conflict that affected trade routes and political discussions but not daily life. Now it was becoming real.
"I need reinforcements," Huo Zhanlong continued. "Not conscripts dragged unwilling to their deaths, but volunteers who understand what they're fighting for. The pay is good. Three times standard military rate, plus merit points that can elevate your families for generations. Those who distinguish themselves will earn kingdom honors, the kind that open doors no amount of spirit stones can unlock."
He paused, letting the offer settle.
"But I won't lie to you about the odds. The front is desperate. Some of you who go will not return. I'm asking you to risk your lives for a kingdom that may not have thanked you properly for your service until now."
Wang Ben studied the prince's face, looking for the tells of manipulation or performance. He found only the grim honesty of a man who had asked this same question of too many soldiers already.
"Those who wish to volunteer, the recruitment station will be established at the eastern gate. You have three days to decide." Huo Zhanlong straightened, his military bearing reasserting itself. "The kingdom remembers those who answer when called. I remember."
The prince descended from the platform, and immediately his guards formed a protective cordon around him. But Wang Ben noticed the way Huo Zhanlong's eyes continued scanning the crowd, evaluating the reactions, counting the ones who might step forward.
"Three times pay," someone near Wang Ben muttered. "That's... that's a lot of spirit stones."
"It's death money," another voice replied. "They're not paying that much because they expect you to survive."
The crowd began to disperse, but the tension remained. Conversations broke into clusters, families pulling together to discuss what they'd heard, young cultivators gathering with the restless energy of those who had just been offered something both terrifying and tempting.
Zhao Yu moved closer to Wang Ben. "That was... unexpected."
"The war's been going badly for a while." Wang Ben watched the prince disappear into the City Lord's compound, presumably to coordinate with Huo Zhenyang. "But for them to send a prince personally to recruit in frontier cities..."
"It's worse than the reports."
"Much worse."
[CONTEXTUAL ANALYSIS: Recruitment expedition implications]
[If royal prince personally recruiting in minor frontier city: Core military forces likely depleted beyond normal reinforcement channels]
[Frozen Jade Kingdom advance probably more severe than public information suggests]
[Kingdom strategic position: Deteriorating]
Wang Ben filed the information away, but his thoughts had already shifted to more immediate concerns. The morning's failed material search. The isolation spreading through the city's merchant community. And now this, a war that was suddenly closer than anyone had admitted.
"Come on," he said to Zhao Yu. "We need to get back to the compound."
Wang Tian was waiting in the family hall when Wang Ben arrived.
His father wasn't alone. Third Elder Wang Fengshan sat nearby, his expression troubled, and two outer branch managers occupied positions along the wall. The atmosphere carried the weight of discussions that had been interrupted rather than concluded.
"Ben'er." Wang Tian's eyes took in his son's empty hands, the lack of materials that should have been acquired. "I take it the market was... uncooperative."
"Every shop I tried was suddenly out of stock. Or closed. Or too busy to see Wang Clan customers." Wang Ben crossed to an empty seat, fatigue pulling at him despite the short morning. "Even the Formation Master."
"The eccentric one? He's always dealt with us."
"His shop was shuttered. A notice about personal matters."
Wang Tian's expression darkened, but he only nodded. "We've heard similar reports from our factors this morning. It's getting worse."
Third Elder Wang Fengshan cleared his throat. "There may be a more immediate concern. The prince's announcement."
Wang Ben straightened. "What about it?"
"Three of our outer guards have already expressed interest in volunteering." Wang Fengshan's voice was carefully neutral. "The pay being offered... for men of their cultivation, it represents years of normal income compressed into months."
"They want to leave?"
"They're considering it." Wang Tian's hands rested on his knees, controlled and still. "I can't blame them. Three times standard rate, plus merit points? For families who have served the clan for generations without advancement, this is an opportunity to change their children's futures."
Wang Ben thought about the guards who patrolled the compound walls. Men and women he saw every day, who bowed respectfully when he passed, who maintained the security that let his family sleep safely. If they left...
"How many total?"
"Three confirmed interest. Perhaps another four or five who are discussing it quietly." Third Elder Wang Fengshan shook his head. "If all of them go, we lose nearly a quarter of our security force."
[TACTICAL ASSESSMENT: Compound defense capability]
[Current guard force: Approximately 35 combat-capable cultivators]
[Potential loss: 7-8 personnel (20-23%)]
[Impact on defensive coverage: Significant. Patrol rotation gaps would increase by 31%.]
[Vulnerability window during night shift: Critical if enemy aware of reduced numbers]
"We're already being watched," Wang Ben said quietly. "If our enemies learn we've lost a quarter of our guards..."
"Then they might decide this is the moment to act." Wang Tian finished the thought. "Yes. I've considered that."
"Can we stop them from leaving?"
"No." Wang Tian's answer was immediate and firm. "These men have served loyally for years. Some for decades. If they see an opportunity to secure their families' futures, we don't have the right to chain them here. Not when our position is already so precarious."
Third Elder Wang Fengshan nodded reluctantly. "The patriarch is right. Forcing them to stay would damage morale among those who remain. They'd wonder if they're prisoners rather than retainers."
The logic was sound, but it didn't make the situation any less difficult. Wang Ben stared at the polished floor, running through scenarios in his mind.
"What if some of them don't come back?"
The question hung in the air. Wang Tian's expression softened slightly.
"Then we honor their service and take care of their families as we should have done all along." He rose from his seat. "But that's a problem for later. Right now, we focus on what we can control."
"The materials," Wang Ben said. "The array."
"Among other things." Wang Tian moved to the window, looking out over the courtyard where guards continued their patrols, perhaps some of them already calculating the weight of the prince's offer against the weight of their loyalty. "I'll speak with each of them personally. Not to stop them, but to ensure they understand what they're volunteering for. Some may change their minds when the reality sets in. Others won't. Either way, they deserve honesty."
"And the materials?"
"We'll find a way. The city isn't the only source." Wang Tian turned back to face his son. "But that conversation can wait until tonight. For now, I need you to do something else."
"What?"
"Go to the recruitment rally. Watch who volunteers. Pay attention to the cultivators who show interest but don't commit, the ones with resources or connections who might be persuaded to deal with us when others won't."
Wang Ben frowned. "You want me to recruit merchants at a military gathering?"
"I want you to observe." Wang Tian's expression carried the weight of decades navigating political currents. "Every crisis creates opportunities. The merchants avoiding us now are afraid of association with our mysterious protectors. But fear can shift. If they see respectable cultivators dealing with the Wang Clan despite everything, if they see us operating normally despite the pressure..."
"Social proof."
"Something like that." Wang Tian nodded. "Go. Watch. Think about what you see. We'll talk tonight about next steps."
The recruitment rally had been established in the eastern market plaza, a space normally used for livestock auctions and seasonal festivals. Now it served as a staging ground for the kingdom's desperate reach for reinforcements.
Wang Ben stood at the plaza's edge, Zhao Yu beside him, watching the flow of cultivators toward the registration tables. The prince himself was absent, presumably meeting with City Lord Huo Zhenyang about local resources and logistics. But his officers managed the process with military efficiency, processing volunteers and explaining terms.
The line was longer than Wang Ben had expected.
Young cultivators formed the majority, men and women in their twenties and thirties with the restless energy of those who had hit walls in their cultivation progress. For them, the war offered something the frontier couldn't: a chance to break through stagnation through life-or-death experience, plus resources that might fund the pills and techniques they couldn't otherwise afford.
But there were older cultivators too. Family men with tired eyes who had calculated the mathematics of risk versus reward and decided their children's futures were worth betting their lives. Women who moved with the efficiency of career soldiers, probably veterans of previous conflicts returning to the only trade they knew.
"Look." Zhao Yu nodded toward a cluster of cultivators near one of the registration tables. "That's Liu Wei. He was at the Xue compound assault."
Wang Ben followed his friend's gaze. The mercenary was indeed there, listening to an officer's explanation with the focused attention of someone evaluating a contract. His companions from that night stood nearby, similarly attentive.
[RECOGNITION: Subject Liu Wei, previously identified as mercenary captain]
[Cultivation: Mid-stage qi condensation (stable)]
[Relevant history: Participated in Xue Clan assault under Wang Clan contract]
[Current behavior: Evaluating military recruitment offer]
"They work for whoever pays," Wang Ben observed. "The kingdom's offering better rates than anything they'd find here."
"But the survival odds are worse."
"Some people prefer certain danger to uncertain stagnation."
Liu Wei must have felt their attention, because he glanced over and met Wang Ben's eyes. For a moment, recognition flickered across the mercenary's scarred features. Then he nodded, a gesture of acknowledgment rather than greeting, and returned his attention to the recruitment officer.
The interaction was brief, but Wang Ben filed it away. Liu Wei was practical. If he was considering the war front, it meant he'd judged his prospects in Redstone as limited. More evidence that the city's power dynamics were shifting in ways that affected everyone, not just the Wang Clan.
"There." Zhao Yu's voice dropped. "The Dao Clan."
Wang Ben's attention sharpened. Near the plaza's northern edge, a small group of cultivators in Dao Clan colors had gathered. They weren't in line for registration, but they were watching with the same calculating attention Wang Ben had been applying.
Dao Zhen wasn't among them. But First Elder Dao Qingshan stood at the group's center, his ancient core formation cultivation a steady presence among the younger members. His expression was thoughtful rather than troubled, the look of someone gathering information rather than making decisions.
Their eyes met across the crowded plaza. Qingshan inclined his head slightly, the gesture of one observer acknowledging another. Wang Ben returned the nod.
"What are they doing here?" Zhao Yu asked.
"Same thing we are. Watching." Wang Ben thought about Dao Zhen's bitter resentment, about the complicated relationship between their clans. "The war affects everyone. Even vassal clans need to understand how the pieces are moving."
"Do you think any of their people will volunteer?"
"Probably. They're in a similar position to us. Younger cultivators with limited advancement prospects, older retainers who see an opportunity for their families." Wang Ben paused. "The question is whether the departures weaken them as much as ours weaken us."
"Competition even in crisis."
"Always."
They watched for another hour as the registration continued. Wang Ben counted cultivators, estimated cultivation levels, noted the distribution of ages and apparent backgrounds. By the time the morning session concluded, over sixty volunteers had signed their names to the kingdom's rolls.
Sixty cultivators from a single frontier city. If the prince was visiting other cities with similar results, the kingdom was building a significant reinforcement force.
But significant might not be enough, if the situation was as desperate as Huo Zhanlong had implied.
Evening found Wang Ben in his family's private dining room, a space rarely used for formal occasions but comfortable enough for family meals. His mother sat across from him, Wang Chen playing quietly in her lap. Wang Tian occupied the head of the table, his foundation establishment cultivation a warm presence that filled the room without dominating it.
"Sixty-three by my count," Wang Tian said, responding to Wang Ben's report. "The prince's people are efficient."
"And from our guards?"
"Two more expressed interest this afternoon. So five total, with perhaps three others undecided." Wang Tian's voice was measured, accepting. "I've spoken with each of them. Three are firm in their decision. The other two are still weighing options."
Li Mei shifted Wang Chen to a more comfortable position, her expression troubled. "The war was supposed to stay in the west."
"It is in the west." Wang Tian reached across the table to touch her hand. "This is just recruitment. The fighting itself is hundreds of kilometers away."
"For now." Li Mei's eyes found Wang Ben. "But if they're desperate enough to send princes to frontier cities..."
"Then the fighting might spread," Wang Ben finished. "I know. But there's nothing we can do about that except prepare."
"Prepare how?" Li Mei's voice carried an edge of frustration that Wang Ben rarely heard from his mother. "We're already under pressure from merchants who won't deal with us, watched by powers we can't identify, owing debts to cultivators who could destroy us with a thought. Now the kingdom itself is bleeding, and our guards are leaving to become part of that blood."
"Mei'er..." Wang Tian's voice was gentle.
"I'm not being unreasonable." Li Mei's chin lifted with quiet dignity. "I'm being honest. Our son has done miraculous things since his transformation. Your cultivation has advanced beyond what anyone expected. But we're still a minor clan in a frontier city, caught between forces that view us as pieces on a board rather than people."
The words settled over the table like a weight. Wang Chen, sensing his mother's distress, reached up to pat her cheek with a small hand.
Wang Ben thought about Shen Wuyan's visit. About the cold transaction that defined their protection. Touch my investment, and die. But investments that depreciate get abandoned.
"You're right," he said quietly. "We're caught between forces we can't control. The Bastion's attention, the Phantom Gate's protection, the war that's draining the kingdom's strength. Any of those could crush us."
Li Mei's eyes widened slightly, perhaps surprised by his agreement.
"But we're not helpless." Wang Ben held his mother's gaze. "We have time, however limited. We have resources, however constrained. We have each other, and allies who see value in our survival. The question isn't whether the situation is dangerous. It is. The question is what we do with what we have."
Wang Tian was watching him with an expression Wang Ben couldn't quite read. Pride, perhaps. Or something more complicated.
"The array," his father said. "You're still focused on that."
"It's the most important thing right now. Complete the first favor, demonstrate value, and our position with the Phantom Gate strengthens. Their protection becomes more reliable. Our enemies have to recalculate."
"And the materials?"
Wang Ben had been thinking about this since the failed morning expedition. "The city sources are closed to us. But cities aren't the only places materials exist."
"The Blackwood." Wang Tian understood immediately. "You want to harvest directly."
"Not personally. Not yet." Wang Ben shook his head. "But there are expedition companies that might be willing to deal with us where merchants won't. The risk is different. A company that takes our contract and finds materials in the wild isn't publicly associating with us the way a shopkeeper would be."
"It's more expensive."
"Yes. But it's possible." Wang Ben looked at his father. "We have some resources still. If we use them strategically..."
"You'll need guidance." Wang Tian's expression had shifted to something more practical, the look of a man evaluating options rather than dwelling on obstacles. "Expedition contracts are complicated. The companies that do this work are experienced at extracting maximum profit from desperate customers."
"Then teach me. Tomorrow."
Wang Tian was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Tomorrow. We'll go over the fundamentals of expedition negotiation, the typical contract structures, the warning signs of companies that will take your money and deliver nothing." He rose from the table, touching Li Mei's shoulder gently as he passed. "But tonight, we rest. All of us."
Li Mei caught Wang Ben's arm as he moved to leave. "Ben'er."
He paused. "Mother?"
"Be careful." Her eyes held the complex worry of a parent watching their child navigate dangers they couldn't protect against. "Not just physically. All of this... the politics, the powers, the obligations. Don't lose yourself in them."
"I won't."
He meant it. But as he left the dining room and walked toward his quarters, Wang Ben wondered if that was a promise he could actually keep.
The night settled over Redstone City like a held breath. Somewhere in the eastern quarter, newly-registered soldiers prepared for a journey toward war. In compound walls across the city, families debated whether love meant staying or going. And in the shadows that no one could see, powers ancient and terrible continued their patient watching.
Wang Ben stood at his window, looking out over the courtyard where guards walked their rounds. Five of them might be gone within the week. Others might follow as word spread about the pay being offered.
The array needed to be completed. The materials needed to be acquired. The favors needed to be fulfilled.
And beneath it all, the weight of debts he hadn't chosen pressed down like the pressure of deep water.
Tomorrow, his father would teach him about expedition contracts.
Tonight, he would plan.
END OF CHAPTER 73