Weapon seller in the world of magic

He bent slightly so his eyes were level with the child’s. ”If one day, knowledge tells you to retreat, but authority orders you to advance, what will you choose?”

This time, even Mark felt a bit tense.

Yichen hesitated for a brief moment, then answered carefully, ”I will first ask why I am ordered to advance. If the reason makes sense, I will obey. If it doesn’t, I will retreat.”

An elder frowned. ”That sounds like disobedience.”

Yichen shook his head. ”No, Elder. That is responsibility. An authority that refuses to explain itself is afraid of being questioned. If advancing will only waste lives, then obeying blindly is not loyalty.”

The elders stiffened again.

Hei Zhenyu laughed softly. ”Sharp tongue. Not bad.”

He straightened up. ”Third question.”

His voice grew heavier. ”If one day, your master stands on one side, and your sect stands on the other, whom will you choose?”

This time, the pressure in the hall became suffocating.

Yuxuan’s heart clenched.

Mark’s gaze sharpened.

Yichen swallowed, then spoke slowly, choosing every word with care. ”If my master is right, I will stand with my master. If my sect is right, I will stand with my sect.”

Some elders inhaled sharply.

”That is arrogance,” one muttered.

But Yichen continued, his small fists clenched. ”If both are wrong, I will stand with neither. I will protect the innocent and bear the consequences myself.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Hei Zhenyu stared at the child, his expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, he laughed—loud and unrestrained.

”Hahahaha!”

The elders were stunned.

Hei Zhenyu turned to Mark. ”This child... is a bit too intelligent, which is quite troublesome as he is not a blank book.”

Yuxuan’s heart sank.

But then Hei Zhenyu continued, ”But I like him.”

The hall erupted in shock.

Hei Zhenyu placed a hand on Yichen’s head. ”You have no fear of authority, no blind worship of strength, and just enough respect for knowledge. You will survive long enough to be dangerous.”

He looked at Yuxuan. ”I will take him as my tenth disciple.”

Yuxuan let out a slow breath. She placed her hand on the boy’s back and gave a gentle push.

”Kneel to your master, Little Chen.”

Yichen did not hesitate.

He stepped forward and dropped to his knees. His forehead touched the cold stone floor.

”Yichen greets Master,” he said clearly.

The sound echoed softly in the Elder Hall.

Hei Zhenyu looked at the kneeling child for a long moment. His gaze was deep, as if weighing something unseen. Then he spoke.

”You may stay here for seven days,” he said. ”Pack your belongings. Spend time with those you care about.”

Yichen lifted his head, eyes bright.

”On the eighth day,” Hei Zhenyu continued, ”your senior brother will come for you. He will take you to the Sun Palace, where you and I reside.”

He paused.

”From that day on, you are my disciple.”

Yichen’s hands trembled as he bowed again. ”Yes, Master.”

Hei Zhenyu’s gaze shifted to Yuxuan.

”I have heard about Yichen’s betrothal,” he said. ”Lu Zhen told me of the proposal from the imperial palace.”

The elders stiffened.

Hei Zhenyu’s voice remained calm. ”If you agree, I will speak to His Majesty. If you disagree, I will also speak to His Majesty and end it.”

His eyes settled on her. ”What do you want, Lan Yuxuan?”

Yuxuan stepped forward and bowed deeply, her back bent with age and resolve.

”You are his master, Lord Hei,” she said. ”His future can only be decided by you.”

The hall was silent.

Hei Zhenyu nodded once. ”Very well.”

He turned his head slightly and looked toward Mark.

”I cannot comment on the Emperor’s granddaughter,” he said. ”That matter is beyond me.”

Then he added, ”But her father, the Fourth Prince, is someone worth forming a relationship with.”

Mark blinked.

”He is righteous,” Hei Zhenyu continued. ”Fearless. He dislikes court struggles and avoids politics whenever he can.”

Hei Zhenyu waved a hand lightly. ”You have my blessing.”

For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

Then Mark and the others smiled. Some relief showed on their faces. Some surprise. Some quiet joy.

Yichen remained kneeling, his small back straight.

He did not fully understand politics or marriages.

But he knew one thing.

From today on, the path before him had changed.

Later;

Snowlight spilled through the tall crystal windows of the Ice Palace, washing the private chamber in pale blue. The air was cold but still, heavy with quiet tension. Mark stood straight before the low table, both hands holding a jade-bound scroll.

Across from him sat Prince Lei Zetian, wrapped in a silver cloak, his expression calm but alert.

”This is the official proposition from my side,” Mark said and placed the scroll on the table.

Lei Zetian accepted it and slowly unrolled the seal. His eyes moved line by line, careful and sharp. The chamber was silent except for the soft sound of parchment.

The first clause made him pause.

”Azure Frost Dominion will pay contributions for fifty years,” he read aloud. ”Ten million cronies every year. Fixed. No changes.”

He tapped the table once, lightly. A steady payment. Not a tribute born from fear, but a price paid for peace.

He continued reading.

”The second clause has been revised,” he said. ”Azure Frost Dominion will not expand its territory, regardless of alliances formed. It will not provide manpower, openly or secretly, to any force acting against the Empire.”

”The third,” Mark went on, ”Azure Frost Dominion will send one elder, Second Stage Transcendent, to serve at the imperial court.”

This time, his fingers paused longer on the parchment. A high-level elder stationed in the capital. A promise of loyalty. Also a leash, if needed.

He read further, slower now.

”No dual marriage,” Mark said to him. ”Instead... Yichen will be sent to the Empire.”

The Prince’s gaze sharpened.

”He will serve as a political hostage,” Mark continued, ”and accept the betrothal to your fourth prince’s daughter.”

”They will marry when they come of age,” Mark went on. ”Yichen will continue serving the Empire even after marriage.”

The words hung in the cold air. Hostage. Disciple. Son-in-law. Official.

Several roles. One body.

Lei Zetian reached the final clause.

”The Lan Sect will release Len Fenghyun from all duties as a sect member.”

The prince rolled the scroll back up halfway, then paused.

”And in return,” he said, ”Azure Frost Dominion asks for only two things.”

Mark’s voice was steady. ”Formal recognition from the imperial palace. And the withdrawal of all imperial troops and officials from their territory.”

Lei Zetian continued reading. ”A fifty-year peace treaty. During this time, the Empire will not act against Azure Frost Dominion, directly or indirectly.”

He finally set the scroll down.

”No adamantine gun purchases,” he said. ”No, Prince Zetian, aka me as a political hostage either.”

Prince Zetian did not hide his reaction this time. The scroll lay open on the table, its edges catching the cold light, but his eyes had already lifted from the words.

”A Second Stage Transcendent,” he said slowly. ”Patriarch Lan is willing to send one to the imperial court... rather than betrothing his own daughter or sister?”

There was disbelief in his voice, thin but sharp.

Mark stood by the window, hands behind his back, watching frost creep along the crystal panes. ”I don’t like offering women as currency,” he replied. His tone was casual, almost lazy, as if discussing the weather.

Zetian’s brows drew together. ”But Yichen is being sent,” he said. ”As a hostage. As a political piece.”

Mark turned his head slightly. His eyes were calm. ”It isn’t a sacrifice if the people who protect him agree,” he said. ”And they do.”

The prince studied him, searching for hesitation. He found none.

Mark stepped forward and placed one hand on the table. ”This is my final stance,” he said. ”No extra clauses. No hidden exchanges. Either the Empire accepts this deal, or there is no deal.”

The words landed cleanly, without force, but they left no room to move.

”Take the proposition back to the palace,” Mark continued. ”Place it before His Majesty. Let him decide.”

Zetian exhaled slowly. ”I understand.”

He rolled the scroll back up, but instead of standing at once, he hesitated. His gaze drifted toward the carved pillars, the hanging frost talismans, the quiet strength woven into the Ice Palace itself.

”However, Patriarch, I like it here,” he said suddenly. A faint smile touched his lips. ”After the treaty is signed... I wonder if I may still join the sect.”

Mark did not react at once. Then he nodded.

”Once peace is established,” he said, ”you may apply through proper channels. Not as Prince of the Heavenly Ocean Empire but only as Lei Zetian.”

Zetian looked at him.

The prince smiled more openly this time. He rose, gathered his cloak, and turned to leave. At the threshold, he stopped and glanced back.

”One more thing,” he said. ”If I may ask. Which elder will be sent to the court?”

Mark answered without pause. ”Grand Elder Lan Ming.”

Zetian froze.

”Lan Ming?” His eyes widened for just a breath. Then he gave a slow nod. ”I see.”

With that, he left the chamber, his footsteps fading into the cold halls of the Ice Palace.

As the door closed, Mark’s expression changed.

The warmth drained from his eyes as if someone had doused a flame. He stared at the closed door, lips moving barely at all.

”You backed them against me,” he murmured. ”You old geezer.”

His fingers tightened, the wood of the table creaking under his grip.

”One by one,” he continued softly, ”the elders who stood with you will fall. Quietly. Cleanly. The clan will forget their names.”

He straightened, gaze drifting toward the deeper halls of the sect, where power slept behind sealed doors.

”And you,” he said, voice colder now, edged like ice. ”Dear great-grandfather... no. Great-granduncle.”

A thin smile appeared.

”You will be last.”

Mark turned away from the table, hands clasped behind his back once more. ”I won’t let you go,” he whispered, ”until I squeeze every last drop from that Fourteen-Circle realm of yours.”