Weapon seller in the world of magic

The valley had quieted by the time the sun dipped beneath the ridge. The light bled across the sky in gold and crimson, painting the aftermath in colors too warm for a field soaked in blood.

Crows circled above the corpses, but no one paid them any mind.

Instead, laughter echoed through the battered outpost.

The survivors—former civilians, untrained nobodies who only just three weeks ago flinched at the sound of steel—now drank together, sang together. They had scars now. Soot. Blood. Shaky legs.

But their backs were straight.

Mark stood apart from them on a ledge, arms folded, watching.

Lan Xia approached quietly, her robe still stained with dried frost and sweat. "They're calling you a messiah, Gege," she said.

Mark didn't respond right away.

"I'm far away from a messiah," he muttered after a pause.

Lan Xia tilted her head. "So, are you going to join them, gege? This is your first victory, after all."

He glanced at her. "We have a lot to do, Sister Xia. This is just the second frontier."

Then he pushed off the ledge and walked toward the inner chamber of the stronghold.

The war chamber was quieter now. No maps. No shouting. Just Captain Ji and a few of his elites are cleaning weapons and reviewing losses.

Mark entered without announcement. His presence alone was enough.

He tossed a storage ring on the table. The City Lord took it in his hands and probed it.

Inside, neatly arranged rows of glowing bullet cartridges. Thousands of them were seen.

The City Lord's eyes widened. "How many are these?" he asked, stunned.

"About 2 million," Mark said casually, leaning back against the stone wall. However, in his heart, he was feeling quite a pain to hand them over as they are worth millions, no, perhaps, billions of gold coins. But then again, he needed this for a startup. "Lord Qi, your people fought well. Consider these the remainder. I believe these would suffice you for a few months, even if you continuously fight the war every day."

Qi Tianchen blinked. "You're giving us these?"

A soft chuckle escaped Mark. "No," Mark replied, shaking his head. "I'm selling them."

The room tensed.

Mark stepped forward. "I'm not a charity. I'm not the Alliance. I don't operate with flowery banners and long-winded speeches about peace."

He placed another storage ring on the table, this one is empty. "You have tunnels. Deep ones. Mineral veins untouched since the days of the old empires. Rare metals. Alloys. Duststones. Things I can use."

Qi Tianchen frowned. "You want us to mine for you?"

"No," Mark corrected. "You want bullets. I want resources. It's an equivalent exchange, Lord Qi. I'm not putting any price on this, by the way. You decide how much it's worth to you. This is your world. Your survival. Name your own price. If I like the number..."

He paused. A subtle grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe we'll do business again when I return."

Qi Tianchen looked at the storage ring. Since the war is over, he seemed a bit reluctant to just nod along.

But he wasn't foolish enough to think he could just burn bridges. Only the Feline beasts on their planet were massacred; the true war isn't over. He couldn't afford to just offend the savior who turned the tide of the war. He was smart enough to understand that those who can give power can also take it away.

It was a deal soaked in pragmatism.

Mark didn't wait for his reply. He simply turned to leave. "You've got till dawn," he said over his shoulder. "Once I'm gone, no second offers."

As he stepped out, Qi Tianchen stared at the ring filled with ammunition and then at the empty ring. He could only let out a deep sigh in the end. His thoughts were unreadable.

Two more weeks later, the 47th Outpost was no longer a battlefield.

Unlike with the second frontier, the first and third frontier was completely occupied by the feline beast army. No survivors were left by the time Mark and his Team Genesis arrived on the planet.

Hence, only five of them started cleaning up. But they also knew that it was too time-consuming for them to target a beast by beast. So, they only targeted the beast camps, wherever feline beasts were gathered together. The first frontier took fifteen days to capture, but the third frontier only had one beast camp, and it only took a single attack to take out all of them.

Finishing their mission, they were now back at the Sky Pavilion Sect.

Mark stood still as the ceremony concluded—robed figures bowing, elders murmuring, tributes offered.

Only when the Sky Pavilion Sect Leader, the one who looked like a ten-year-old kid, descended onto the platform did silence finally settle like mist over the crowd.

"I heard of your heroics at 47th Outpost," the Sect Leader said, staring at Mark. "So… what do you want as a reward? A spirit weapon? A noble rank? Tell me?"

Mark's eyes didn't waver.

"I want a permit," he said simply.

The words rippled across the platform like a dropped stone.

"A permit?" the Sect Leader repeated, eyebrows lifting.

"To sell firearms," Mark continued. "On your worlds. Under your flag."

Murmurs began instantly among the disciples, the elders, and even the guards stationed along the perimeter.

Mark held up a hand calmly. "I'm not trying to replace cultivation. But these weapons can allow anyone, a baker, a miner, a mother, to protect their home from beasts and minor threats. High-level cultivators don't need guns. But not everyone can become one."

"You speak of empowering the ordinary," said Elder Mu, tone dry. "It could make it tougher to control the society."

"But survivability is more important, Elder Mu," said another elder. "If it can help out civilians, it is a good thing."

"No, it is not. Lu Zhen here is taking advantage of the situation."

"Please, War is always a business opportunity for weapon makers. How many blades have you ordered in the smithy?"

"That's different. Blades can be made by any fine blacksmith, but we know nothing about these firearms."

"Then, we can just pass the law of using those weapons only during the war if you are worried so much."

Several elders scowled. Some argued. Others leaned forward, intrigued.

Amidst this, Elder Xi stayed silent. He seemed a bit dissatisfied to see not only that Mark had completed his mission successfully, but his men never even got a chance to assassinate him.

Seeing the elders arguing against each other, the sect leader raised his hand, and the commotion stopped instantly. Leaning his elbow on the armrest, the sect leader looked at Mark and asked, "How much do you intend to charge for these weapons?"

"No currency," Mark replied.

He reached into his coat and placed a small metal cube on the table. A sample of unprocessed volcanite, a rare ore he got from Qi Tianchen.

"I want raw stardust ores."

A beat of silence.

One of the younger elders scoffed. "Stardust is one of the rarest elements you can find in this realm. Aren't you taking too much of an advantage?"

"I haven't fixed any price, Elder," Mark cut in gently. "Whatever the sect deemed fit, they can put a price tag on the firearms and ammunition I provide to take down beast hordes across all the outposts."