Weapon seller in the world of magic

As they turned to leave, the hawk-nosed elder said softly, just loud enough for Mark to hear, ”Don’t think that you were given a reward, Young man. Outpost forty-seven is a lot more complicated to handle than it seems.”

Mark didn’t turn around. ”Don’t worry. I’m not fighting for a reward.”

Meanwhile, high above the teleportation hall, nestled in a crystalline tower reserved for diplomatic envoys and celestial envoys-in-hiding, Seri stood by the balcony, small fingers curled over the edge of the silverstone railing. It is the same child who gave the information to the sect that he was wielding an anti-magic weapon.

Behind her, the maid moved quietly, folding linens that didn’t need folding. She wore a plain black uniform, modest and crisp.

”Young Miss,” she said with a bit of hesitation, ”Elder Xi is angry. That soul weapon is not anti-magic.”

”That’s impossible,” Seri whispered. ”I saw the annihilation of magic with my own eyes. The entire spiritual energy in the affected area was wiped out by that attack.

The maid stilled. Her voice was quiet as he leaned a bit closer. ”Young miss, everyone at the sacred hall witnessed it. According to the sources, what that warrior carried is called an anti-matter gun; he claims to be its maker, and as for its power, it can penetrate through the defenses of even a 2nd-stage transcendant. Elder Xi was injured by the attack.”

”Hmm?” Seri’s eyes widened at that. She didn’t answer for a moment. Her fingers tightened around the railing. ”But it looked like the same as the one in the records of cataclysm.”

Nalia moved swiftly then, kneeling in front of her. ”Young Miss, you are the heiress of the Tower of Mulan. And only an elder of the Sky Pavilion Sect had access to the records of that incident. We need Elder Xi’s help, and he is quite angry at our misinformation. As an apology, he is asking us to kill Lu Zhen at Forty-Seven Post.”

”47th Post?” Seri repeated, letting out a smile. ”It does look like the elders aren’t convinced that he doesn’t possess an anti-magic weapon. And Elder Xi wants to use this opportunity to kill him, but without having blood in his hands?”

”What do you plan on doing?” Nalia said in a worried tone. ”It’s dangerous to ambush him.”

”Hmpf, do you think I’m a fool to follow that order?” Seri scoffed. ”Sure, that old man could help us, but he isn’t the only person who could help us. There are other ways.”

”What are the orders, Young Miss?” As the maid asked, Seri replied. ”Let’s travel to Outpost 47, giving that false perception to that geezer that we are on the job.” Letting out a playful smile, she added, ”We’ll see what this Lu Zhen made of, with our own eyes. And see if he is worth our ally or not.”

Nalia nodded seriously. ”I’ll make preparations, Young Miss.”

As the servant disappeared, the girl turned from the balcony and padded across the polished floor to a low crystal basin. She waved her hand, and the surface shimmered with the image of Mark, walking beside Lan Xia, scroll in hand, casually spinning it as if he’d just been handed grocery orders instead of a frontline command.

Seri stared at them. ”Something tells me there is more to him than we think.” A playful smile appeared on her face. ”Maybe, I should observe him at a close range instead of far away.”

One day later;

Xi Renzhi, the one who was reprimanded for giving false information on Mark, sat alone in the meditation chamber above the scrying spire.

A soft knock preceded the entrance of his personal attendant, a shadow-eyed man in grey robes bearing a communication slip. He knelt and bowed, holding a scroll.

Elder Xi took it without a word, eyes scanning the etched script.

Lu Zhen has made his selection. Three companions only.

The old man’s brow twitched. ”Three? Only three of them?”

He leaned back slowly, processing the implication. ”So five in total... and he still intends to march into Forty-Seven? Hmph. He is too arrogant for his own good.”

He lowered the scroll, letting it dissolve between his fingers with a flicker of Qi.

”Does he plan to die gloriously?” he muttered to the air, half to himself. Then, louder: ”The profiles. Do you have them?”

The servant was ready. ”Yes, Elder. I’ve already done the background checks.”

The servant produced a jade slate and activated the first record.

”A mercenary,” he began. ”Name: Yuan Feng. Iron Moon Clan.”

A flickering illusion took the form of a brawny, wild-eyed man with a jagged glaive slung over his shoulder and what appeared to be a grin carved from defiance itself.

”Ascendant realm. Confirmed 1467 official kills during the current campaign. If not for the urgency of war, he would have been court martialed six times; eleven team captains dismissed him for insubordination. Fights like a beast. Answers to no one. According to some reports, he once killed his own commanding officer mid-battle because he deemed his orders cowardly.”

”Hmph.” Xi Renzhi didn’t blink. ”And Lu Zhen chose that brute?”

The servant shifted slightly. ”Yuan Feng has no known attachments. No clan ties since the Iron Moon bastion fell. Entire family erased. Demon Cat Empress again.”

The elder said nothing for a moment.

”Next.”

”The second one is named Reva,” the servant continued, calling up the next image. A woman—half-wild, half ethereal. Golden fur streaked her arms, and her nine tails fanned behind her in restrained elegance, but her amber eyes shimmered with too much quiet rage to be a mere scout.

”She is a beast-kin. A hybrid of a Nine-Tailed Fox and a human bloodline. Ascendant stage, though untested in open combat. Served as an infiltration scout during recon missions. Exceptional senses, but no formal battlefield experience.”

”Why pick someone who hasn’t even tasted blood?” Xi Renzhi mused.

”She’s the only survivor of her entire clan. The Demon Cat Empress wiped out the Den of Silver Winds five years ago.”

There was a beat of silence. Xi Renzhi couldn’t help but frown. ”Her family is also wiped out? What about the last one?”

”Ryder Night.” The servant’s voice lowered unconsciously, as if the name alone carried bloodstains.

”Night Clan?”

A cloaked figure appeared in the illusion—a lithe young man with silver eyes and a subtle blur of lightning trailing behind him even while standing still.

”From the Lightning Plane. He was once heir to the Night family—the most feared assassins across the nine realms. However, ten years ago, his immediate family was expelled for reasons still classified. They lived in exile on Eligar for the past decade... until it was turned to cinders during the third campaign by the Demon Cat Empress. Only survivor. No records since.”

Elder Xi leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands folded under his chin. His eyes glittered with a cruel gleam.

”So... three orphans. Three remnants of worlds destroyed by the same hand. I feel like Lu Zhen picked these three on purpose...”

He chuckled, low and venomous. ”However, it is still foolish.”

The servant stayed silent.

Elder Xi continued, standing up. ”Their heads will roll before the season turns at Outpost 47. There is a reason why many teams were massacred there.”

The servant didn’t comment and simply asked. ”Shall I continue observing them, Elder?”

”Of course,” he snapped. ”I want every step recorded. Where they go. How they train. Who they speak to. Especially that artifact he carried.”

The servant bowed once more. ”As you command.”

As the attendant departed, Elder Xi turned toward the obsidian window. The light from the late morning sun twisted across his face like ghostfire. ”I need to get that artifact once he dies.”

Meanwhile, in the sect outerfields, Mark and the remaining made their way to the world portal.

Mark walked at the front of the five. His footsteps were measured, light as ever.

Yuan Feng strode just behind him with lazy defiance, dragging the head of his glaive across the stone, drawing a long, screaming line behind them.

Reva walked in perfect silence—tails tucked in, ears alert, golden eyes narrowed.

Ryder was barely visible; his steps never echoed, and even his shadow moved unnaturally, as if it had a will of its own.

Lan Xia walked by his side, staying quite close to him.

For a while, the atmosphere was mostly silent, no one willing to speak much.

And the silence finally broke when she asked Mark in a quiet voice, ”Why only these three?”

Mark didn’t stop walking.

”They’re unique.” He said it with no emphasis, as though it were the only word that mattered.

”All three of them had their families wiped out by the Feline Empire.” His tone didn’t rise, didn’t show pity. Just cold data. ”Each of them has nothing left to protect... except their future. That kind of rage doesn’t just burn people—it sharpens them.”

Lan Xia’s brows dipped slightly. ”You chose them for their grief?”

The three of them who heard those words couldn’t help but raise their eyebrows.