Elder Mo's brows furrowed. "The grove's instability must be spreading. Faster than we thought."
The City Lord took a long, weighted breath and slammed his palm gently onto the table.
"Then we have no time to waste," he declared.
He turned toward the side of the throne hall and motioned. A bell was struck—deep and resounding. Its echo rolled through the palace like a war drum.
"Send word," the City Lord barked. "To every faction within Blueflame City. To the Sect Alliance. To the Bladebound Circle. To the roaming masters and retired cultivators hiding in shadow. I want everyone—every qualified master and elder, gathered here by the next cycle."
Guards immediately sprinted into action.
A steward stepped forward. "Shall we alert the market lords as well?"
"Yes," the City Lord said. "Many of these materials require coin as much as courage. If there's a mine or a lost ruin that might hold even one of the required ingredients, we'll need trade influence to reach it."
