In the grand capital of Wuhan, the air was thick with the scent of burning ledgers and desperation. High Lord Jo Mu-Sang had always known that "Justice" was an expensive ideal, but he had not anticipated it being bankrupting.
The mobilization of the Silver Vow—a million-man army—required more than just righteous fervor. It required three million pounds of grain per month, fifty thousand wagons of medical pellets, and a constant stream of high-grade Spirit Stones to power the defensive arrays. The burden of this titanic cost fell entirely upon the Jo Family's Grand Chamber of Commerce, the economic heart of the Murim Alliance.
Inside the Wealth-Accumulation Hall, Jo Pan-Gyu, the family's Chief Treasurer and Mu-Sang's own cousin, stared at a stack of reports that told a story of impending ruin.
"The Sichuan trade routes are dead," Pan-Gyu whispered, his voice trembling as he addressed the High Lord. "The Tang Family's shipments of 'Body Refining Pellets' have stopped. Our scouts report that the caravans aren't being raided; they are being redirected."
The Shadow of the Yun
The "betrayal" was not a single event, but a slow, geometric erosion. The Yun Clan's Shadow Division—comprised of the very outcasts and "ignoble" practitioners the Alliance had marginalized—had been busy. They didn't strike with the heavy blades of the Pengs; they struck with the logic of the Hao Clan.
Under the leadership of Hao-Ran (the future 5th High Heaven), the Shadow Division had approached the minor merchant guilds—the "errand boys" of the trade world. While the Alliance demanded "Tributes for Justice" that drained their profits, the Yun Clan offered a different contract: The Federation Charter.
The Charter promised that under the new order, trade would not be taxed by bloodline status, and the "Spirit Stone Mines" would be nationalized for the benefit of all practitioners rather than hoarded as family inheritance.
"The merchants are not soldiers, Mu-Sang," Pan-Gyu said, his eyes hard. "They are survivors. And they have seen what happened at Yun-Long City. They saw your 'Divine General' turn to ice. They have calculated the odds, and the Alliance is a losing investment."
The Golden Embargo
The breaking point arrived at noon. A convoy of three hundred wagons, supposedly carrying a month's supply of grain and Spirit Stones for the Namgung front, arrived at the Wuhan gates. But when the Alliance inspectors opened the crates, they found them filled with nothing but river silt and a single, crimson scroll.
It was a decree from the Wealth Dragon Commerce Guild, the Alliance's largest financial backer.
"The Heavens have shifted," the decree read. "We no longer recognize the currency of a dying order. From this day, all Jo Family credits are null and void in the Central Plains. We serve the Federation now."
The hall fell into a deathly silence. High Lord Mu-Sang felt the world tilt. Without the merchants, the Silver Vow was no longer an army; it was a million starving mouths. The Namgung swordsmen would not fight without their high-grade pellets; the Peng warriors would not march without their meat.
"They have cut our veins," Mu-Sang hissed, slamming his fist onto the jade table until it cracked. "This is not war! This is banditry!"
"No, cousin," Pan-Gyu replied, standing up and removing his Alliance badge. "This is a hostile takeover. The Yun didn't just build better spears; they built a better world for the people who actually pay for the spears."
The Exodus of Gold
By sunset, the exodus began. Scores of merchant families—the very "Artisans and Artisans Quarters" that kept the city alive—began packing their stalls. They were not fleeing in fear; they were traveling West, toward the Anhui Sovereign Zone.
They had heard of the Great Library of Heavens, where the Yun had promised to place the secret merchant manuals of the Great Families into the public domain. They were moving toward a meritocracy where a common shopkeeper's son could reach the "Peak Realm" without needing a Namgung surname.
The Alliance's physical borders were still guarded by a million swords, but its spiritual and economic walls had vanished. The "Silver Vow" army, currently camped on the Hubei border, woke the next morning to find that their supply wagons had vanished in the night, and with them, the last hope of a traditional victory.
The Hundred-Day War was entering its second month, and the Alliance was discovering that you cannot eat "Orthodox Justice." The age of the merchant's betrayal had arrived, and the foundation of the Federation was being paved in the gold the Alliance had once called its own