Weapon seller in the world of magic

Lan Zihe stood up straight, his body quickly healing the wounds he had sustained earlier.

The Proctor’s voice finally echoed through the arena, announcing the start of the match. The air grew heavier with anticipation.

With a quick motion, half a dozen glowing energy sabers materialized around Lan Zihe. His eyes locked onto Mark, cold and furious.

”You might have taken me by surprise earlier,” he said, voice sharp, ”but you can no longer…”

Bang! Bang!

The sound of gunfire cracked through the air like thunder, once again.

”Argh…”

Lan Zihe staggered.

One bullet had pierced his left thigh, another tore into his right shoulder. Blood splattered onto the platform as he clutched the wounds, teeth gritted in pain.

”You…” He trembled with rage, his glare burning into Mark.

Mark simply smiled, calm and confident. ”This gun can shoot bullets at hypersonic speeds and has automatic tracing. Unless you’re an expert at speed or have high-end reflexes, it’s next to impossible for you to evade. So, try your best to dodge, alright?”

”Ugh… I’ll kill you, you bas…” Lan Zihe growled. Despite the pain, he raised his hands, a shimmering layer of energy coating his body. The energy sabers floated once more, humming with power. With a sharp flick, he launched them at Mark, deadly projectiles that screamed through the air, each one charged with the might of an immortal.

Mark didn’t flinch. He reached into his inventory and pulled out a flat, metallic disc, unassuming at first glance, but clearly no ordinary tool. Holding it in his left hand, he pressed the button at its center.

The disc hummed softly, then let out a pulse of blue light.

As the first energy saber neared him, five meters out, it suddenly disintegrated into sparkling particles, sucked straight into the device. The next one followed. Then another. One after another, all six energy sabers vanished, absorbed completely.

Gasps erupted from the stands. Even the usually composed sect elders leaned forward in their seats, stunned.

”What just happened?”

”He absorbed the sabers…?”

”That’s not an artifact… what even is that?”

Mark glanced around, then casually explained, ”This is another prototype. Took our bots 30 years to perfect it inside the orb of time’s accelerated field.”

Lan Zihe’s face twisted in disbelief. ”What are those weird artifacts? I can’t sense a shred of any magic inside them.”

From the stands, an elder called out, ”Sect Head, don’t you think this is too much?”

”Lan Zhen was using artifacts to win this battle,” another added.

”He needs to be disqualified!”

”Yes.”

”I thought he would turn better after months of closed-door cultivation, but he only turned more and more unruly. Sect Head, please punish that brat…”

”Hey, be fair. He’s fighting someone from a higher realm. Of course, he’s gonna use some support.”

”That disc-shaped object and that weird thing in his hands are just as much a weapon as any sword. Why can’t he use his own tools?”

Arguments broke out among the sect leaders, the entire arena buzzing with confusion and frustration. But on the battlefield, the tension was far from over.

Lan Zihe, seething with anger, snarled, ”So, you want to depend on your artifacts to win this battle?”

Mark smirked, hands still steady. ”I told you before. I’ll render your efforts of cultivation useless. And these…” he gestured at his gear ”these aren’t artifacts. This is the power of technology. Something even a regular person can use to destroy an immortal like you.”

”You…” Lan Zihe’s face contorted with fury.

Mark raised a brow. ”Don’t you get tired of saying ’you’ every time? Do you have some habit or something…”

”Fuc*ng bas*ard! I’ll kill you.” The immortal cultivator roared, his power surging violently. His aura exploded outward in a thick wave, condensing around him like molten armor. The pressure made the entire arena tremble. His attributes were skyrocketing; his body was blazing with power and killing intent as thick as it could get.

In a blur, he dashed forward, moving so fast that most spectators couldn’t track him.

Mark, however, didn’t move.

”Automode, on.”

He flicked a switch on his gun with his thumb and gently pressed the trigger.

Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang…

Thirty rounds in 2.5 seconds. The weapon spat adamantine bullets at a terrifying rate, each one piercing the air with surgical precision.

Lan Zihe kept moving until his body suddenly jerked mid-sprint.

He stopped. His body staggered before dropping to his knees, blood dripping from a dozen wounds. Bullets had torn through his limbs, embedded deep in bone, punching past his enhanced defense like paper. His arms trembled. His breath came in shallow gasps.

A beat of silence fell over the arena.

Mark stepped forward, looked down at his opponent, and said coolly, ”And the battle is over.”

Lan Zihe tipped to his side, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Healers rushed to the platform, while the Proctor, after a long pause, finally raised his voice.

”Winner: Mark Lan Zhen.”

The Semi-finals began not long after.

Match 1: Lan Xia vs Bai Longwei.

Then came Lan Xia’s turn.

The moment she stepped onto the battlefield, the atmosphere shifted.

A faint chill hung in the air as Lan Xia stepped onto the battlefield, her steps light, elegant, like falling snow. She wore a pale blue robe that shimmered with frost.

Across from her stood Bai Longwei, tall and imposing, his own aura swirling with frost energy. He narrowed his eyes as their gazes locked. One can see determination and seriousness in his eyes.

”Lan Xia, last time we fought, we had an equal cultivation than mine,” Bai Longwei said, raising his clenched fist and pointing at her, ”But this time, I broke through the transcendent realm (immortal) while you are still stuck in the demigod realm. You are no longer a match for me.”

Lan Xia didn’t respond to his provocation. Her expression remained serene, almost disinterested, as if his words were nothing more than a passing breeze.

The Proctor raised his hand.

”Begin!”

The moment the word was uttered, the entire stage was swallowed by a sudden, biting cold.

Lan Xia moved.

There was no dramatic buildup, no warning. Just a blur of pale blue as her figure vanished, reappearing just meters away from Bai Longwei.

A glacial lotus formed beneath her feet, crystalline and delicate, but pulsing with terrifying power.

Bai Longwei reacted, raising his hands. ”Frost Dragon’s Breath!”

A serpent of ice roared from his palm, spiraling through the air with jagged teeth and coiling mist. But Lan Xia simply waved her fingers.

”Petal Shatter.”

The ice lotus beneath her cracked and bloomed at once.