The first clash came at the northern gate.
Wang Ben had been cutting through the city toward the Quiet Cup when the explosion lit the northern sky. He froze in the middle of a street.
Ahead, a group of city guards and Huo Clan cultivators rushed toward the northern gate. Moments later, the sounds of fighting reached him. Techniques clashing. People screaming.
It was over fast. The demonic cultivators tore through the defenders. Within breaths, the survivors were retreating, dragging their wounded.
And that was just the vanguard. The real threat hadn't even moved yet.
People were running past him now. Mortals. Cultivators carrying wounded. The fighting was spreading into the city.
The trembling in his hands was worse. Whether it was the fear, the chaos, or the demonic qi washing through the streets, something was stirring the Meridian Strengthening Pill inside him. He forced it down.
"Wang Ben." A gruff voice cut through the noise.
Dao Lingwei stood a few paces away, sword already drawn. She'd been heading toward the fighting.
"You shouldn't be here," she said.
"I'm looking for someone who can help."
"Then hurry." She stared at him. "This is no place for someone at your cultivation level."
She walked toward the fighting without another word.
...
Dao Lingwei found her opponent near the northern gate.
He was younger than she'd expected. Or maybe he just looked it. With demonic cultivators, you could never tell. He stood in the middle of the street with his hands behind his back, watching the city burn like a man enjoying a sunset.
She drew her sword.
He noticed her. Looked her over the way she might examine an insect that had landed on her sleeve.
"Late-stage core formation," he said. He sounded bored.
She gave him everything she had on the first swing. The air split ahead of the blade.
The demonic cultivator caught it with just two fingers.
Her blade stopped dead. He hadn't been forced to move.
She didn't stop. Eighteen strikes in three breaths. Every technique she knew, every pattern she'd mastered, every trick she'd learned in her long life.
He blocked them all without shifting his weight.
"You're not going to win this," he said.
"I know." She bought herself a breath with a defensive pattern. "That's not why I'm here."
She attacked again. And again. Each exchange drained her while he barely spent anything. She could feel the gap in every clash. His cultivation was simply deeper than hers.
It didn't matter. Every breath she held his attention was a breath someone else could use to run.
The end came fast. His hand moved through her guard like it wasn't there. She felt the impact in her chest before she understood what had happened.
He was holding her core.
Her sword slipped from her hand. Her legs gave.
She didn't look at him. Her eyes found the city behind her. The people running. The ones who would make it because of the time she'd bought.
She smiled.
The world went white.
...
Somewhere nearby, Dao Zhen screamed.
Wang Ben was there. He didn't remember running. His arms locked around Dao Zhen before he could rush toward the body.
"Let me go!" Dao Zhen's voice was raw, shattered, nothing like the composed heir who had sparred with Wang Ben just days ago. "LET ME GO!"
"I don't care! She's dead! She's DEAD and I just watched and I did NOTHING..."
"She wanted you to live." Wang Ben's own voice cracked, but he held on. "She gave everything she had so you could live. Don't waste it."
Dao Zhen's struggles weakened. His body sagged in Wang Ben's grip, the rage draining away to leave only grief. "She was all I had left. My father's dying. My grandmother's dead. What's left? What's the point?"
"The point is survival." Wang Ben released him slowly, ready to grab him again if needed. "The point is making their sacrifices count. The point is..."
A wave of pressure crashed over them both.
The demonic cultivator stood over Dao Lingwei's body. "This city belongs to us now," he said. His voice carried across the street without effort. "Surrender, and some of you may live."
Then something moved.
A blur from the rooftops. The spear woman from the Bastion hit the demonic cultivator from above, her weapon trailing light. She was moving faster than her cultivation should allow. A talisman, maybe.
The spear caught him in the shoulder. He staggered.
For one breath, the street went silent. A mortal shedding cultivator had been hit. The spear woman was already pulling back, resetting her stance, but her hands were shaking. The talisman's boost was fading.
The demonic cultivator looked at the blood on his shoulder. Then at her.
"That was unwise," he said.
Wang Ben didn't see what happened next. He pulled Dao Zhen away from the fight. Dao Zhen let himself be pulled.
When he looked back, the spear woman was still fighting. Still standing. Buying time the way Dao Lingwei had bought everyone a few breaths to escape.
They stopped two streets away. Dao Zhen's eyes were empty.
"Dao Zhen." Wang Ben grabbed his shoulders. "Look at me."
Dao Zhen's eyes were somewhere else.
"Snap out of it. You need to get to your clan. Now."
"I couldn't do anything." Dao Zhen's voice broke. "She was right there and I couldn't do anything. I just stood there and watched her die."
"Then don't let it be for nothing." Wang Ben's grip tightened. "She bought you time. Use it. Get to your father. He needs you now more than ever."
Dao Zhen stared at him. His breath came ragged. Then he ran.
Wang Ben turned the other way and ran. He just had to make it to the merchant district. Find that small tea house. Everything depended on it.