After the price collapse attack Dustfall moved cautiously. Merchants talked in low voices. Adventurers checked their bags twice before selling. Some travelers avoided Dustfall entirely fearing more chaos. Though the exchange survived morale was shaken. Alan saw it in the clerks’ posture. In the quietness of the hall. In the merchants’ hesitant questions.

Fear lingered like dust.

Alan knew he could not wait for the Thieves Guild’s next strike. He had to strike first. Not with swords. With strategy. With the same force the guild used against him. Information. Supply. Numbers.

He spent a long night reviewing his notebook. Every entry. Every route. Every seasonal pattern. Every behavior from the guild. Then he noticed something important. The guild relied heavily on transporting mid grade cores between cities. They used fixed routes. Fixed storage points. Fixed drop systems. Because they needed consistency to run a large illegal trade.

Consistency meant predictability.

But predictability meant vulnerability.

Alan smiled for the first time in days. He whispered. If they destabilize my market I will destabilize theirs.

At dawn he gathered Ressa and the clerks. We are launching a countermeasure. They tried to drown us in cheap cores. Now we flood their routes with accurate information. Information they cannot control.

He unrolled the Supply Flow Map across the table. But it had changed. Alan added new sections. Red marks where the guild stored cores. Blue marks where caravans passed. Green marks showing predicted monster populations. It looked like a strategist’s war map.

Ressa blinked. You found their routes already. Alan nodded. They revealed everything when they rushed the supply collapse. Their timing gave them away.

His plan was simple but powerful. The exchange would publish a public forecast of mana supply across the entire frontier for the next two weeks. Not just Dustfall. Everywhere. Any town. Any region. Anyone could see which monster areas were oversupplied or undersupplied. Anyone could predict price shifts.

If information became free the Thieves Guild’s advantage vanished.

Clerks whispered nervously. But sir if we do this they will attack again. Alan nodded. They will. But if we do nothing they win. The only thing shadow markets fear is light.

The announcement spread instantly. Adventurers crowded the exchange to see the forecast map. Merchants gasped as they noticed how accurate the predictions were. A few traders ran toward their wagons to change routes before it was too late.

In the far corners of the hall some cloaked figures slipped away quietly. The guild’s spies.

By noon Dustfall’s forecast map had reached three towns. By evening it reached eight. Suddenly mid grade supply across the region shifted naturally as adventurers moved toward high value areas. Prices corrected themselves. The guild’s planned manipulation for the next week cracked like dry wood.

Varrin realized it immediately.

That evening he appeared again in Alan’s office. He looked more amused than angry. You are faster than I expected. You understand our routes too well. Alan kept his gaze steady. You exposed them through your attacks. Predictability is a weakness.

Varrin chuckled. Clever boy. Too clever. But you also made a mistake. When you reveal information to everyone you lose control of it. You think this will help you. But it will hurt you soon.

Alan did not answer. He waited.

Varrin leaned closer. Today you published a map. Tomorrow the entire continent watches your board. Soon nations will depend on your predictions. Churches will depend on your clarity. Merchants will depend on your patterns. That gives you power you do not want. Power you cannot hide from.

Then he whispered something cold. And power attracts bigger predators than us.

Before Alan could respond Varrin melted into the shadows.

The next morning Alan discovered Varrin was right.

The king had sent a new message. A request. Not a threat. Not a warning. A formal request for the kingdom’s Royal Mana Bureau to receive weekly copies of Dustfall’s supply forecast.

The exchange had gained national attention.

Ressa read the letter and muttered. This is the kingdom’s way of putting a leash on you. Alan nodded slowly. And if we refuse they will investigate. If we agree we become their tool to control the economy.

Clerks stood in silence. Merchants listened with mixed hope and fear. Alan faced a new dilemma. His exchange was now strong enough to challenge the black market but exposed enough to attract the kingdom’s grasp.

He looked at the chalkboard. At the map. At the clerks waiting for his answer.

Finally he spoke. We will send the reports. But not all of them. We will send simplified versions. Enough to support stability. Not enough to control the market. And we keep our forecasting methods secret.

Dustfall sighed in relief. The decision pleased no one completely but it protected everyone partially. It bought time.

Later that night Alan walked through the exchange alone. He touched the price board gently. The numbers were stable again. The hall felt alive again. But something had changed inside him.

He whispered. We fought shadows. Now we fight crowns.

Dustfall had entered a new stage. The Mana Exchange was no longer a village invention. It was becoming a continental force. And Alan Grove understood something with absolute clarity.

The more stable the market became the more unstable his life would be.