"Wu Sheng, why don't we sit down and talk about a peaceful distribution of this mine?" Mu Renlong's voice was steady, but underneath the calm surface, his nerves churned.
He had no desire to gamble today. Facing a man like Wu Sheng wasn't something to take lightly, deep inside, he knew that even if he unleashed his full strength, the chances of victory were slim.
Wu Sheng chuckled, but the sound was more mocking than amused.
"Peaceful distribution?" he repeated with a sneer. "You really have the gall to say that. You don't even have the right to speak about this mine, much less own a share of it."
Mu Renlong's face darkened. The words stung because they rang with truth. The spirit stone mine was nestled between the territories of two local powers. Mu Renlong, an outsider with no roots in either, had no claim his presence here was barely justified, and he knew it.
"I invited him," came a firm voice from the side.
Feng Taishan had been silent the entire time, but now he stepped forward, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"As the Ancestor of the Feng Family, I've made him our ally. That alone entitles him to a share."
Wu Sheng turned toward him with a scoff. "Old Feng, are you blind or just deluded?" His tone was laced with contempt.
"Since when did your Feng Family have any claim over this mine? You lost this land when you failed to defend it. This is Crimson Blade Gang territory now. Which means, this mine belongs to me."
Feng Taishan and Mu Renlong both froze. His words, as blunt and brutal as they were, were not without weight. The bitter truth was that Feng Taishan had failed to hold this land.
Yet acknowledging that now, in front of his men, would be the same as admitting defeat. "If that's your stance," Feng Taishan growled, his voice rising, "then let's resolve it the old way, with a fight!"
Wu Sheng's grin widened.
"Now that's more like it. One of you isn't enough to entertain me. But both of you? Perhaps you'll make a decent warm-up."
He raised his blade, the cold glint of steel reflecting the rising tension.
Mu Renlong's eyes narrowed.
"Your arrogance knows no bounds."
With a flick of his wrist, he tapped his storage pouch. A gleaming green sword appeared in his grip as he dropped into a combat stance.
"Flank him. I'll take the lead," he transmitted to Feng Taishan through spiritual voice transmission.
But just as the clash seemed inevitable, the world shifted. A thunderous pulse of spiritual energy rippled through the air, radiating from the depths of Nightmare Forest.
The three cultivators froze. The oppressive aura made the hair on their necks stand up.
"…This aura… it's at least a Second Order demonic beast," someone muttered, the words almost lost to the rising wind.
Then came the stampede.
From within the forest's shadows, thousands of demonic beasts surged forward, eyes glowing, snarls echoing through the trees. The ground trembled beneath their charge.
"Beast tide!" someone cried from below, a Qi Refining cultivator pale with terror.
Wu Sheng reacted instantly, his cultivation flaring.
"Heed my command!" he shouted, his voice imbued with authority.
"Disperse immediately! Head to the headquarters! Abandon the site and flee with all haste!"
Then, with surprising calm, he turned to the two men before him.
"Our conflict will have to wait. We need to evacuate and inform the Market Guardian at once."
Feng Taishan clenched his fists but nodded. "Agreed."
The three parted without another word, each returning to their own clans. Families were gathered, mountain gates secured, and cultivators began the retreat.
Feng Taishan didn't like it, every step away from the mine was a step further from what was once his. But the Eastern Continent had laws, and one stood above them all during a beast tide, no matter the feud, unity was law.
In the Eastern Wilderness, this law wasn't just respected, it was enforced by blood and history of the past 'Open War'. Here, survival trumped pride.
.....
Inner Market, Residential District
Lan Rui sat cross-legged beside a low table, brush in hand, expression focused. The only sound in the room was the light scratching of brush on talisman paper.
Stroke by stroke, he guided spiritual ink across the surface. When the final line was drawn, the talisman shimmered faintly.
A moment later, success.
He exhaled in satisfaction.
Earth Spike Talisman (Beginner Level: 5/200)
Wind Blade Talisman (Beginner Level: 3/200)
Ice Shard Talisman (Beginner Level: 1/200)
It had been three days since the ambush, and Lan Rui had barely slept. He'd spent those nights mastering new talisman patterns, burning through ink, materials, and time. The Ice Shard Talisman had given him the most trouble.
"Too unfamiliar," he muttered to himself.
Ice was a mutated element, a divergence from the classical Five Elements. Mutated elements such as lightning, wind, yin, yang, space, and others were more complex, more temperamental. Though Lan Rui had some understanding of them, drawn from the roots of Five Elements, true mastery was elusive.
Still, progress was progress.
"Time to head to the market. These talismans won't sell themselves."
Outside, the market streets buzzed with unease. The usual chatter had turned to hushed whispers. A strange pressure hung in the air.
'Something's wrong… has the fighting escalated again?' he wondered.
As he neared his usual stall, he spotted a familiar figure nearby.
"Old Wang! Been a while!" Lan Rui greeted.
"Xiao Lan." The old man nodded in greeting.
As Lan Rui set up his goods, the two exchanged light conversation. But then, without warning, Old Wang's tone shifted.
"Xiao Lan. Raise your prices."
Lan Rui blinked. "Why? These prices are already high. If I go any higher, no one will buy."
"Trust me, brat. Raise them." There was an edge in Old Wang's voice not urgency, but certainty. Lan Rui hesitated, but nodded.
Soon, the Evil-Repelling Talismans were listed at 5 spirit stones for low-grade, and 12 for middle-grade.
Mutated element talismans, such as Ice Shard and Wind Blade, were priced at 6 spirit stones for low-grade.
Mutated element talismans were always more valuable. It is harder to produce, more destructive, and harder to counter.
And yet to his suprise... the customers came. Not in trickles, but in waves. His talismans sold like hotcakes. By noon, his stock was completely gone.
Lan Rui frowned. "Old Wang, did something happen recently?" he asked.
"It's not just Crimson Blade members buying today. Everyone's scrambling for talismans. What aren't you telling me?"
The old man gave a crooked smile. "There's a rumor, kid. Beast tide is coming today."
Lan Rui felt the blood drain from his face.
"What? Beast tide? Why hasn't the Market announced it?"
"They will, along with the recruitment orders." Old Wang said it with a casual shrug, but the weight of it was immense.
"Recruitment orders?"
"Mandatory conscription. Unless you're connected to a major power, you're going to be drafted. Even the local clans must send people, though they get some leeway to protect their foundations."
He gave Lan Rui a firm pat on the back.
"But don't worry. You're a First Rank, Middle Grade Talisman Master. That puts you in logistics. With me overseeing the station, I'll make sure you don't get worked to the bone." He winked.
Lan Rui tried to smile, but unease gnawed at his thoughts.
"Old Wang, do we really have the strength to fend off a beast tide"
This time, the old man didn't answer right away. He looked up at the darkening clouds.
"That… I don't know. The local factions are meeting with the Market Guardian right now. Whatever's decided… we'll know by tonight."
Lan Rui stood silent for a while, watching the people rush through the market, unaware or in denial of the coming storm.
A beast tide was a calamity, one that could wipe away clans, cities, entire legacies and this time, it was their turn to face it.
.....