Weapon seller in the world of magic

Six months passed like a fleeting gust across the shattered stars.

To most, it was a lull—an uneasy peace rippling across sectors due to the war. But Mark was fighting two wars. One with the Feline Forces and another to keep up with the demand for his weapons.

Mark personally hadn't fought on the battlefield since Mulan City's reclamation. He was purely focused on just commanding people or relaying his superior's orders to the captains. Not because he wants to stay from the battlefield, but it is because he is too busy becoming a god of weapons manufacturing.

Across the planets controlled by the Sky Pavilion Sect, whispers grew of a new kind of weapon, compact and deadly. A sleek firearm that spat elemental bullets with the pull of a trigger. No chanting, no sigils. Just aim… and fire.

It makes an ordinary person into a fearsome warrior. This is the immortal plane of existence, basically where all the ascendants/immortals from the mortal realm come here to make their new lives. But instead, a mortal weapon became popular in this plane of existence.

They called it the Five-seveN.

It looked like a joke to traditional cultivators at first. Until five of their elites were vaporized in a training mishap using the fire variant of the ammo. Then it became gospel.

And Mark?

Mark sold the weapons to the sect, sending thousands of guns every day. In four months alone, he'd handed over 900,000 guns. And one freaking billion elemental rounds.

And in return? He got Stardust ore from the sect as promised.

But what he got is the raw ore itself. And refined cosmic dust/stardust is the one that he needed to forget ether weapons and to make divine grade weapons, i.e., Mythril, Celestial, and god, he would need massive ones. Hence, he tried to amass as much stardust ore as he could.

As for the price, the sect gave him one catty of medium quality stardust ore (0.5kg), of which usually 100gm-200gms of refined stardust can be extracted, for every 100 element rounds. As for the five-seveN guns, each one was bought at 4 catties.

In this sense, Mark has truly done a favor on that forsaken second frontier planet of Outpost 47, where Mark had dumped thousands of weapons and two million rounds for just minerals and metals found on their planet.

Meanwhile, the sect priced each weapon and bullet, spreading them across trade routes, military stations, and black markets under controlled exports with their own currency, the immortal shards. Mark didn't care about it anyway. He didn't enquire about how much profit they were making.

He was completely focused on mass producing, letting the AI do the work for him nonstop 24 hours. He didn't even use a single ether particle during the past six months.

Every drop was reserved for creation.

Because of such a sacrifice, not only did he earn a lot of stardust ores, but he also gained mastery over the creation ability. Well, he should say, AI's mastery over the creation has improved.

And now?

Where once a hundred bullets took him thirty to forty seconds, he could now summon that same amount in a single heartbeat. As long as the element remained the same, the AI didn't even hesitate.

In the end, the numbers told a story louder than any war cry.

136,000 piculs. That's how much he has earned so far.

That's 6.8 million kilograms of refined stardust ore—enough to build a fleet of ether tanks, or a satellite ring of autonomous weapons as long as he had enough materials. Luckily, the deal with Yujiang is still alive, and he will soon get all the adamantine available in the mortal plane of existence from that guardian god as per the promise, once he returns. So, he had a lot of things to look forward to in the future.

However, contrary to one's expectations, Mark ceased the productions a couple of weeks ago as their legion entered the Feline Empire.

He sent one message to the Sky Pavilion Sect:

"I'm out of stock. The frontlines demand my presence. Resume production after a year."

That was all.

No apology. No justification. Just a fact.

And surprisingly, the reply came within the hour.

Approved.

Orders halted.

All previously scheduled contracts have been delayed indefinitely.

Not a single question was asked.

Because the truth was, the sect had two very good reasons to obey without protest.

First, stardust was not easy to mine.

It wasn't like gold or spirit jade that could be excavated with qi-imbued tools. No. Stardust could only be harvested from planets and asteroid belts orbiting the black hole regions—places where only ascendants/demigods could tread.

Normally, they would mine a few hundred piculs a year, hoard it, and auction it like sacred treasure.

But Mark's deals had come like a storm. So efficient, so fast, so massive—that the sect had been forced to drain their emergency reserves, those stashed away for war or planar collapse. Now those vaults sat nearly dry.

Second, the profit was undeniable.

The Sky Pavilion Sect had turned Mark's creations into gold mines. The moment the Five-seveN guns hit the black markets, royal families, mercenary kings, and even subjugated worlds under magic ban scrambled to acquire them. Where once a noble's power was measured in mana purity or sword ancestry, it now boiled down to:

How many Five-seveNs do you own?

And for those without talent or time to train in cultivation?

A gun in the hand was a revolution.

Some called it the Great Equalizer. Others, the Magicbane.

Of course, the blacksmiths and researchers under the Sky Pavilion Sect began their reverse engineering. Trying to crack the secrets behind Mark's ammunition. Some succeeded in triggering basic fire discharge. Most failed.

Meanwhile, for the army, after six months of endless battles, Legion 52— with the remaining force of 120,000 elite troops—was now resting on an unnamed planet, drifting silently in an uncharted star system. It had no title, no native species, and no glory to offer. The next day, this planet will become a place for a big battle and might not exist later on, but for now, it was a place to rest.

They were right in the middle of the enemy's territory, although they weren't alone. Legions 4, 19, 33, and 47 were also invaded Feline Empire in different directions, making the Feline forces fight against a 5-front war.

With the Feline Forces directly under the White Lion King was on their way to this unnamed planet, half the soldiers slept beneath makeshift barriers and dome shields. The other half kept watch, their eyes flickering with fatigue and tension.

High above the camp, on a jagged cliff overlooking the silver plains, Mark stood alone, though.

The wind was quiet here. Cool. Clean.

He tilted his head up, watching the deep night sky.

Lan Xia's presence approached like a breeze. She didn't speak until she sat beside him, her knees pulled close to her chest, her silver hair dancing slightly in the wind.

"You're far from camp," she said softly. "Can't sleep?"

Mark exhaled slowly, his voice low. "Just thinking."

There was a silence. Not awkward. Just... heavy.

He gestured to the sky with a faint nod. "From here, we're about thirty light-years away from the Palace. Scientifically, anyway. Of course, we don't fly like ships. Still, if you measure by worlds… between us and that place, there are about ten or eleven."

Lan Xia turned her head slightly. "Ten?"

He nodded. "You know what that means? It means we would atleast fight another ten big battles before we reach the heart of the empire. So, I'm just wondering whether I should go alone. My hands are itching to fight."

"You can't be serious?" Lan Xia stared at him. "That's reckless."

Mark chuckled, "Of course, I'm just kidding. If I could go alone and challenge the Demon Cat Empress, I would have done that a long time ago. I wouldn't waste so much time."

Lan Xia heaved out a sigh of relief, "For a second. You scared me away."

After a moment of silence, Mark asked. "By the way, do you really not plan on taking the offer to become the vice commander of Legion 33?"

Lan Xia blinked. She then shook her head, "Why would I? I'm not here to fight the war. I'm here for you."

Mark couldn't help but chuckle once again. "You have been following me to these depths of this war for the past six months, even though I was literally doing nothing interesting here. That's some serious dedication you have."

Lan Xia replied with a straight face. "Of course, I would. I intend to marry you, after all. As a wife, it's my duty to dedicate myself."

"Huh?" Mark blinked, abruptly turning his head to look at her. "What did you just say?"