Weapon seller in the world of magic

There was a towering wall before them and a tiny gate set into its center, like the mouth of a giant that had grown arrogant enough to believe no one would dare challenge it.

Beside that gate, two guards sat slumped against the stone, their heads lowered, their breathing heavy and uneven, completely surrendered to sleep despite being entrusted with one of the most secure prisons in the world.

Midnight had wrapped the island in silence, and the sea breeze carried only the scent of salt and smoke and damp stone.

If one were to ask what Kiara would do in such a situation, the answers might appear simple.

Option A: Knock them unconscious and take the keys.

Option B: Eliminate them and take the keys.

Option C: Eliminate one and force the other to open the gate.

Option D: Something far more dramatic.

Yet there was no need to examine the matter as though it were a scholar’s puzzle.

The answer was obvious.

Had Noah been with her, Kiara might have chosen one of the quieter methods.

Noah excelled at infiltration the way a needle slips through silk without leaving a mark.

But Noah was far away, guarding Arceus Silver, and Zion stood at Kiara’s side instead.

And Zion, especially now with a celestial sword in his hands, was less a needle and more a thunderbolt wrapped in human shape.

Still, Kiara did not allow excitement to cloud her judgment.

This mission was not as simple as breaking into a prison.

She needed to locate Caleb Crescent, rescue him, keep him alive, and return him to his rightful throne.

The real king could not become collateral damage, and the enemy could not realize which prisoner mattered above all others. If they discovered her target, they might move him, use him as a shield, or kill him out of desperation.

A hunter who rushes into the forest beating drums only warns the deer.

A wiser hunter first scatters the flock so the stag stands alone.

The moment they arrived on the island, Kiara had ordered Zion to scan the entire area.

The results appeared in her mind.

The warriors hidden in the outposts and scattered through the woods were not much of a concern. All but one were weaker than a six-star expert.

The true obstacles were inside the prison.

Three powerful Spirit Warriors guarded the complex itself.

Two were at the peak of the six-star realm.

The third, most likely the warden, had reached the intermediate stage of the seven-star rank.

Kiara narrowed her eyes behind her mask.

If her goal had been pure destruction, this would have been laughably easy.

She could have summoned an attack helicopter, painted the prison in targeting lasers, and reduced stone and steel to flaming rubble, leaving behind no witnesses.

But her target was alive somewhere inside.

After a few moments of thought, Kiara reached into her inventory and withdrew a rocket launcher.

The cold metal settled against her shoulder with a familiar weight.

Instead of aiming at the gate, she turned toward the nearby woods.

Her lips curved beneath the mask. ”If the hornet’s nest is hanging from the branch,” she murmured to herself, ”the easiest way to find the hornets is to shake the tree.”

She pulled the trigger.

A 110mm warhead roared into the darkness.

For a heartbeat, it was a streak of fire.

Then it struck.

*Boom!*

The explosion split the night apart.

The ground trembled beneath their feet.

A tree burst apart in a shower of splinters and flames, and the dry underbrush ignited almost instantly. The ocean wind, eager as a gossip carrying scandal from house to house, seized the fire and spread it through the forest.

The island, silent only a moment ago, erupted into confusion.

Shouts rang out.

Metal clanged.

Lights flickered to life inside the prison.

Every guard, every hidden Spirit Warrior, every drowsy sentry was forced awake.

At the same time, Kiara turned to Zion.

”Cut the gate open,” she ordered. ”And if anyone stands in your way, remove them.”

Zion nodded.

He raised Lux and brought it down in a single smooth motion. The sword hummed, and a brilliant arc of concentrated light tore through the air.

The two sleeping guards jerked awake, eyes wide with terror, just in time to see a shining crescent racing toward them.

Instinct saved them.

They threw themselves aside.

The arc slammed into the metal gate.

*Thud!*

The gate shuddered violently.

Its hinges screamed.

A section of steel collapsed outward and crashed onto the ground with a heavy metallic clang.

The surrounding wall remained untouched.

Only the gate had been severed.

Zion turned to Kiara.

”Big Sister, the entrance is open. Shall we proceed inside?”

Kiara shook her head and opened her inventory once more.

”No,” she said calmly, as though discussing business rather than assaulting the most secure prison in the region. ”A snake retreats its head while the tail distracts the enemy before lunging for the kill. We will do the same. We stay here and draw out the three strongest experts.”

She took out a grenade launcher and tossed it to him.

”Put Lux away for the moment and use this. Cause as much chaos as possible. Once the strongest opponents reveal themselves, I will enter the prison and retrieve our target. You will guard every entrance.”

Her voice hardened.

”No one enters. No one leaves. Use Lux, your skills, or anything in my inventory if you must. I give you full access to my inventory.”

Zion caught the launcher effortlessly.

Kiara gave a final command.

”Now go to work.”

With that, Zion bent his knees and leaped upward.

His dark robe fluttered like a shadow torn from the night as he landed atop the fifty-foot wall.

Below, the two gate guards scrambled to their feet, still disoriented.

The orange glow from the burning forest illuminated the masked intruders and cast long, dancing shadows across the stone.

One guard swallowed hard.

The other stammered, ”Inform the captain. Quickly!”

His companion nodded and rushed inside.

Kiara paid them no attention. She loaded another warhead into her launcher. The metallic click echoed like a promise.

This time, she aimed toward the northeast at a steep angle and fired.

*Swoosh*

The rocket arced high through the darkness.

She did not need precision.

She only needed fire, noise, and panic.

One after another, she launched rockets in different directions, exploiting the weapon’s full range to scatter explosions across the island.

Trees erupted.

Branches snapped.

Flames spread.

Smoke billowed.

Above her, Zion sprinted along the wall, firing 40mm grenades with practiced efficiency.

Each shot traced a glowing line through the night before detonating in bursts of thunder.

*Boom!* *Boom!* *Boom!*

The prison appeared to be under attack from every direction.

Confusion spread among the guards like ink in water.

Orders were shouted over one another.

Men ran in circles, uncertain where the true threat lay.

Meanwhile, deep within the prison, in the warden’s private quarters, a very different scene unfolded.

The room resembled the bedchamber of a minor king rather than the residence of a prison official.

Silk curtains hung from the walls.

A king-sized bed dominated the center.

Rich carpets muffled every footstep.

On that bed lay the warden, Valamir, his heavy body sprawled across the sheets as he snored loudly enough to challenge the explosions outside.

Beside him were two naked young women.

Their bodies were thin, marked by hardship, and their foreheads bore sealing marks that suppressed both their ether and most of their physical strength.

The first explosion jolted them awake.

The women exchanged frightened glances, clutching blankets to themselves, too afraid to speak.

Valamir opened his eyes with a frown.

For a moment, he lay still, his senses expanding outward.

His expression darkened.

”What is happening?”