257: Chapter 257 Private Army Base, Network Activation

At the hour of Chen the next day—when Lu Changyuan pushed open the door of the stone building, Shadow One and Shadow Two were already standing outside.

The two had changed their clothes. Over their dark gray soft armor, each wore an extremely thin dark cotton robe—the material of the cotton robe was the same kind of coarse spirit cotton as the cloth garment on Special Commissioner Wei Yuan. The Wei Family's dark gold sword pattern on the armor plates was covered by the cotton robes—but the two swords at their waists, which were nearly half a foot shorter than standard issue, were still there. The curvature at the end of the scabbards tightened more sharply in the morning light than it had last night—the curvature seen under the cold-light Spirit Stones in the secret chamber last night had been static, but now, the posture in which the two stood made the tilt angle of the scabbards against the outside of their thighs align the sharpest curve directly behind them—convenient for drawing their swords in less than half a breath.

Shadow One's cotton robe was less than half a centimeter higher on the right shoulder than the left—her right leg was less than half an inch shorter than her left leg, shifting her center of gravity to the left, and standing for a long time would cause her right shoulder to automatically lift to compensate. Shadow Two's hands were folded in front of her—her left thumb pressing on the web of her right hand—the buckle of her scabbard was fastened tightly, and before drawing her sword each time, she needed to use her thumb to pop open the buckle first, a habitual movement that had already been engraved into her standing posture.

"Lord—Elder Wei is waiting at the street corner," Shadow One spoke—her tone less than half a pitch higher than when she reported her name in the secret chamber last night. It was not tension—it was daytime, and there was no longer a need to lower her voice to the absolute minimum as she did in front of the Old Ancestor.

Elder Wei Changfeng stood at the corner of the street. He was still wearing casual clothes today—but that coarse spirit cotton casual outfit had been replaced with a new one, with no charcoal powder marks on the cuffs. Behind him followed two personal guards—their armor plates carved with the Wei Family's dark gold sword pattern, cultivation level: Late Foundation Establishment Stage.

"How did you sleep last night?"

"Enough," Lu Changyuan walked to his side—Shadow One and Shadow Two followed three paces behind—Special Commissioner Wei Yuan followed at the very end of the line. The wrist of Special Commissioner Wei Yuan's dark gray leather glove on his left hand did not slip down again today—he tucked the glove inward by nearly half an inch, into the cuff of his cloth garment. The burn scar was completely covered.

"Then let's go take a look—at the foundation the Wei Family has accumulated in the fortress over hundreds of years."

The Wei Family's Private Soldiers' station was not on the main street of the fortress's inner city. It was in the northwest corner of the inner city—behind a reef mountain whose top had been shaved flat. No flags hung at the main entrance of the station—only a dark gold sword pattern cast in dark bronze was embedded in the lintel. The size of the sword pattern was exactly the same as the one on the East Gate—but the patina was thicker. The patina on the East Gate had been eroded by the sea breeze for hundreds of years, while this piece had been eroded by the sea breeze for even longer—so long that some of the fine details of the sword pattern had already been filled in by the patina.

Behind the gate was a natural depression surrounded by reef mountains on three sides—spanning nearly a mile. The ground of the depression had been leveled—paved with dark gray stone slabs harvested from the seabed of the Dragon Burial Trench. The surface of the stone slabs was densely crisscrossed with faint white scratches—worn down over decades by hundreds of pairs of military boots repeatedly turning, stopping suddenly, and pushing off the ground.

About a hundred people stood on the training ground.

Everyone wore standard dark gray soft armor—with the Wei Family's dark gold sword pattern carved on the armor plates. The thickness of the armor plates was nearly half as thin as Leng Feng's Outer Sea Abyss-Exploring Hard Scale Armor, but the seams between the plates used chainmail buckles woven from extremely fine dark bronze alloy wire—not the usual beast tendon stitching. The gap between each plate and its neighbor was less than half a centimeter—from a distance, it looked like a single, complete metal plate. This style of weaving—Lu Changyuan had only seen it on the personal guards of the Royal Capital's Military Department Elder Council.

The hundred people stood in three rows. The first row—Late Foundation Establishment Stage, about thirty people. The second row—Foundation Establishment Middle Stage, about forty people. The third row—half Foundation Establishment Middle Stage and half Early Stage, about thirty people. The interval between the three rows was less than two Zhang—but the density of their standing positions avoided the neat square formation of a military parade. Within each row, the spacing between people was not completely equal—some stood less than half a foot to the left, and some stood less than half a foot to the right. These minor deviations were intentional—in actual combat, perfectly equal spacing would provide a targeting grid for the opponent's area-of-effect attacks.

Standing at the very front of the queue were three captains. Golden Core Early Stage. The soft armor worn by the three was the same as the others—with the same dark gold sword pattern on the armor plates, and no additional rank markings. However, the swords at their waists were nearly three inches longer than the others—standard battlefield-issue straight swords, as short swords were too light in the hands of the Golden Core Early Stage. The spiritual energy reserves of the Golden Core Early Stage were enough to support heavier weapons—and these extra three inches of blade could provide an attack window of less than half a breath more when surrounding a Golden Core-level target.

Lu Changyuan stood at the edge of the training ground—not stepping into the queue. He stood on the stone slabs—his hands hanging at his sides—watching for nearly half an incense stick's time.

His gaze was on the organization—not on the numbers. The thirty Late Foundation Establishment Stage cultivators in the first row were divided into five groups—six people per group, with one group leader. The group leader's armor plate had an extremely fine horizontal line carved on the left shoulder—the internal combat command mark of the Wei Family's Private Soldiers. This six-man grouping method was different from the ten-man squads of the Blue Moon Island's Sin Battalion—the six-man group was more flexible and could be split into two three-man teams for alternating cover in narrow terrain.

He observed the frequency of their drills. No one on the training ground slowed down their movements because of the arrival of outsiders. The first row was currently conducting close-quarters parrying practice in pairs—scabbard against scabbard, with the force of each clash controlled to a degree that would just barely avoid cracking the opponent's scabbard. The rhythm of the impacts was sometimes fast and sometimes slow—the fast three-strike combos simulated an opponent's continuous aggressive attacks, while the slow single heavy strikes simulated a fatal blow after an opponent had charged up their strength. This alternating rhythm—was a muscle memory that could only be honed after repeatedly clashing with different types of enemies on the battlefield.

He looked at the level of weapon maintenance. At least dozens of spare swords were neatly stacked on the stone platform at the edge of the field—the scabbard buckle of every single sword was fastened to the exact same tightness. The anti-slip beast-skin strips wrapped around the hilts all went in the same direction—clockwise from the bottom of the hilt toward the handguard. With this wrapping method—when holding the sword with the right hand, the web of the hand pressed on the starting end of the beast-skin strip, making the grip tighter the more it was held, without loosening.

"The Wei Family has accumulated in Zhenhai Fortress for nearly two hundred years—what we accumulated is not Spirit Stones," Elder Wei Changfeng stood beside Lu Changyuan, his arms crossed over his chest, "what we accumulated are these people. A hundred men—at minimum Foundation Establishment Middle Stage, with three Golden Core Early Stage captains. Pull any one of them out—and they can hold their own in the Loose Cultivator circles outside. Yet they remain with the Wei Family—not seeking promotion, not raising flags, and not leaving their names to the outside world."

"Why?"

"Because the Wei Family gave them a path—raising them starting from the Qi Refinement Stage. Those whose Spiritual Root Aptitude is below the third grade—no Sect outside wants them. The Wei Family wants them. Raising them to Foundation Establishment—they sign a lifetime contract. Not as slaves—but as family. When they marry—the Wei Family allocates stone houses in the fortress's inner city. When they have children—the Wei Family handles Spiritual Root testing and enlightenment Medicinal Pills. If they die in battle—their families receive monthly pension Spirit Stones until their youngest child breaks through to Foundation Establishment." Elder Wei Changfeng lowered his arms from his chest, "Shadow One and Shadow Two were raised exactly like this. Their parents were both Wei Family Private Soldiers—their father died in battle, and their mother failed to break through to the Golden Core—the Wei Family has raised them from six months old until now."

Lu Changyuan fell silent for a few breaths. Then he withdrew his gaze from the training ground—and glanced at Shadow One and Shadow Two standing three paces behind him. The two stood at the edge of the stone slabs—their hands resting on the hilts of their short swords, their posture identical to when they stood in the secret chamber. But their eyes were watching the training ground. Shadow One's gaze was locked onto the leader of the leftmost six-man group in the first row—that person would take half a step back to open up distance after every parry, and then step forward to press back. Shadow Two's gaze was locked onto a young female cultivator practicing footwork in the back row of the third row—when that person pushed off with her left foot, the outer edge of her sole landed less than half a breath earlier than the inner edge, shifting her center of gravity outward by less than half a centimeter.

They were watching—because every single movement on the training ground was something they had practiced since childhood. It was just that they were no longer the ones on the field now.

"The Old Ancestor gave Shadow One and Shadow Two to you—not just because you hold the relic token," Elder Wei Changfeng turned around—facing Lu Changyuan directly—"but also because—he saw that you lacked this by your side. Blue Moon Island can fight—Leng Feng can fight, the Sin Battalion can fight, and that Core Formation Puppet can intimidate. But your personal guard—is zero. The people around you are all functional people—Su Qingli manages formations, Elder Mo deduces, and Leng Feng leads troops. Not a single one is dedicated to standing behind you to block swords for you."

He chin-nodded toward the direction where Shadow One and Shadow Two stood—"Now you have them."

Lu Changyuan did not reply. He looked back at the training ground—the hundred Wei Family Private Soldiers were conducting their next round of drills: three-row rotation—the first row retreating, the second row advancing, and the third row flanking—the entire formation completed the transition from a frontal clash to a three-sided encirclement in less than five breaths. The faint white scratches on the stone slabs were worn shiny under the sound of footsteps.

"Elder—your men—I cannot copy them. Blue Moon Island doesn't have two hundred years to accumulate a foundation," Lu Changyuan withdrew his gaze from the training ground—"but I understand the organization. The six-man group—suitable for narrow terrain. The three-row rotation—the same formation can be used in the underwater rocky cliff areas."

Elder Wei Changfeng glanced at him. A Late Foundation Establishment Stage lord—standing before the Private Soldiers the Wei Family had accumulated for two hundred years—did not show any envy or greed. He was memorizing the organization. He was learning the rhythm of the formation transitions. He was observing the wrapping method of the scabbard buckles and the frequency of the footwork transitions. His coming to the Wei Family's Private Soldiers' station—was like attending a class.

"Lord Lu—if you had been born in the Wei Family—" Elder Wei Changfeng spoke only half of his thought—leaving it unfinished. He swallowed the rest of his words—and switched to another topic: "The merchant association transmissions—I already sent them out last night."

"How many did you send them to?"

"Six. Steward Zhong of the Tiangong Pavilion—you met him on Blue Moon Island; the auction house matters will be directly handled by the Wei Family—it is inconvenient for the appraisers to show their faces; and the other four are shops of the Royal Capital Merchant Association that hoard goods in the fortress—each of them has recovery-type Medicinal Pills and restriction-breaking Formation Plates pressed in their warehouses, enough for at least a hundred-man squad to fight a hard battle. Having the goods stuck in their hands is burning Spirit Stones—they can't get them out—and they are anxious to the point of jumping."

"How many replied?"

"Tiangong Pavilion—Steward Zhong replied instantly. He said he had personally seen Lu Changyuan with two Late Foundation Establishment Stage joint-attack experts standing behind him on Blue Moon Island—and sent just one sentence: 'Elder Wei—I know this person. What he says—I believe half of it. As for the other half—we will verify it in person tomorrow at the hour of Chen.' " Elder Wei Changfeng fished out a transmission Formation Plate from his sleeve—the induction lines on the edge of the Formation Plate were still flashing one by one with the faint green light of residual spiritual energy pulses—"Of the other four, three replied. They all said the same thing: 'Tomorrow at the hour of Chen—the Wei Family Chamber of Commerce Hall. If the information is true—we will release our stock.' "

"What about the one that didn't reply?"

"The one that didn't reply—is surnamed Li." Elder Wei Changfeng put the Formation Plate back into his sleeve—his face expressionless—"The Li Family manages the East District 3 warehouses under the Logistics Department of the Zhenhai Fortress. Among these four hoarding merchants—the Li Family has the most goods, but their attitude is the stiffest. It's not that they don't believe the relic will open—they are just waiting for someone else to make the first move. Rest assured—once the hour of Chen arrives tomorrow, as long as the other three sign, the Li Family will have to come even if they don't want to."

Lu Changyuan looked at Elder Wei Changfeng's hand as he withdrew the Formation Plate—that hand had still been covered in charcoal powder on the trestle bridge last night, and now it was already sending transmissions to spin a web. Elder Wei Changfeng was an old man who had lived for two hundred years—within half a day of getting hard evidence—he had verified the intelligence, calculated the profits, met the Old Ancestor, and sent out the transmissions. Compared to the efficiency of a Military Department Elder—most merchant association brokers were not even worth looking at.

"Tomorrow at the hour of Chen—the Wei Family Chamber of Commerce Hall. Which floor?"

"The second floor. The conference room has already been cleared—it can seat at least twelve people."

"It won't be filled," Lu Changyuan turned and walked toward the entrance of the station—Shadow One and Shadow Two followed three paces behind him, their steps perfectly synchronized. "Six is enough. Any more—and there won't be enough goods to go around."

Elder Wei Changfeng followed behind him—the hem of his casual clothes whipped up by the sea breeze blowing from the training ground—the minimalist golden sword pattern on his cuff flashing for a moment in the morning light. "There is one more thing—Shadow One and Shadow Two's joint-attack technique. Do you want to see it now?"

"No," Lu Changyuan did not look back—"The joint-attack technique is for enemies to see. Not for me. Those people from the merchant associations tomorrow—let them see it."

By the time they walked out of the Private Soldiers' station—the sky had already turned from the dusty blue of the hour of Chen to the bright white of late morning. On the stone-paved streets of the fortress's inner city—the sound of spiritual horse hooves and the shouting of merchant association runners were nearly twice as dense as yesterday. Lu Changyuan stopped at the corner—looking back at the dark gold sword pattern whose fine details had been filled in by the patina.

"Elder—you will host the meeting tomorrow at the hour of Chen."

Elder Wei Changfeng froze for a breath. "I host it? Why?"

"Because for this setup—using your reputation—the effect will be much better than if I show my face. A Late Foundation Establishment Stage lord like me—no matter how much I say the relic token is in my hands—the first reaction of those old foxes from the merchant associations will still be to suppress the price. You are different—you are a Military Department Elder, Late Golden Core Stage. If you open your mouth and say 'the Sealed Relic is about to open'—they won't dare to question you on the spot. Once they swallow back the words they wanted to choke on—I will then place the black crystal on the table."

Elder Wei Changfeng fell silent for a few breaths—then nodded. "Alright. You call the shots."

Lu Changyuan led Shadow One, Shadow Two, and Special Commissioner Wei Yuan back along the stone-paved street. When they reached the entrance of the stone building—Chu Yunfei was squatting by the doorframe, gnawing on a piece of dry flatbread. He saw Lu Changyuan followed by two female cultivators wearing dark cotton robes with short swords hanging at their waists—the dry flatbread froze at his mouth—his eyes scanning from the edges of the soft armor peeking out from the hems of their cotton robes to the curvature at the ends of their scabbards—scanning for less than two breaths.

"Joint-attack experts. Late Foundation Establishment Stage. Raised by the Wei Family," he stuffed the dry flatbread back into his mouth—took a bite—chewed twice—"Weren't you going to see Elder Wei Changfeng last night—how did you manage to abduct the Old Ancestor's prized secret guards?"

"Not abducted. The Old Ancestor gave them."

Chu Yunfei's chewing motion paused for less than half a breath. Then he stuffed the remaining half of the flatbread into his shirt—stood up—and brushed the crumbs off his hands. "Given by the Old Ancestor. Fine. I won't ask." He pushed open the door of the stone building—the door hinge grinding out a very faint friction sound in the stone socket—"You are going to the Merchant Association Hall tomorrow at the hour of Chen—I'll go wander around the outskirts of the merchant association district for you. That shop of the Li Family—has a warehouse by the Pier. I know their warehouse runner—I can pry out of him exactly how much stock the Li Family has hoarded and what price they are planning to sell it at.

"When did you get to know the Li Family's runner?"

"I don't remember," Chu Yunfei paused inside the doorframe—turning his head—with that smile unique to merchant association brokers on his face—"I am a broker. A broker's job is to get to know everyone when you don't need them—so that when you do need them—I don't need to go out and meet them."