Chapter 392: Arms Salesman Delegation
Saxise finally regained his composure from the initial astonishment. After all, they still had a mission to fulfill.
Under the guidance of the Tiefling Elite Guard, Saxise and his delegation boarded a rather peculiar Steam Locomotive, which carried them to an open field on the outskirts of Isdalia. The air was thick with the scent of Gunsmoke. There was little construction in sight—only a few dozen mannequins riddled with Bullet Holes stood scattered across the barren ground.
Saxise furrowed his brow.
He had expected to see a grand display of Empire military might—rows of armored soldiers, showcasing their advanced Armor and Rifles. But this was nothing like that.
“Are you certain this is the right place?” he asked.
“Yes,” the guard replied. “This is your destination.”
“Ah, you must be the clients from the Kingdom of Thrace,” came a cheerful voice from afar.
Saxise turned. A Half-Dragon in a striking black-and-olive coat strode toward them with a confident gait, waving warmly. Behind him, a bundle of long wooden crates rested on his back.
“Good day! Good day!” the Half-Dragon greeted, his grin wide and welcoming. “I’m the Empire’s military arms sales representative—please, call me Battlefield Wheelchair Man.”
Battlefield Wheelchair Man beamed, clasping Saxise’s hand with an almost overly enthusiastic grip.
Aside from the bizarre name and garb, the sheer warmth of his welcome left Saxise slightly unsettled—almost suspicious. He forced himself to maintain the dignified demeanor of the Chief Diplomat of the Kingdom of Thrace, his expression stern and composed.
“You should know,” Saxise said, “that the Kingdom of Thrace is currently embroiled in a massive war. We require a substantial supply of weapons. Last Hope—your products had better not disappoint.”
“Of course, of course!” Battlefield Wheelchair Man chuckled, gesturing them forward. “Please, follow me. I’ll personally walk you through the Empire’s latest armaments. The samples are all here—guaranteed to exceed your expectations.”
With practiced ease, he led them to a Shooting Range and unstrapped the wooden crates from his back.
“Is that all?” Saxise’s frown deepened.
From his experience point perspective—years of battlefield observation—he knew that in large-scale conflicts, mortal soldiers typically relied on Long Spears, bows, and basic Armor. Elite units augmented these with Magical Runes. But these crates? They looked far too small to hold such gear.
Battlefield Wheelchair Man eagerly opened one of the crates and pulled out a sleek, elegant-looking “long staff.” He handled it with the familiarity of a seasoned veteran.
“This is…?” Saxise recognized the weapon. He’d seen similar ones in the hands of the Tiefling Elite Guard. But he had no idea what it was for—or whether it even possessed any magical energy.
How could something like this kill an enemy?
Sensing the doubt in Saxise’s eyes, Battlefield Wheelchair Man gave a confident smirk and tapped the rifle.
“This is our newest model—the Breaker’s Fire Model III (Experience Pointsort Version),” he announced proudly. “The pinnacle of Empire Rifle craftsmanship. A masterpiece among Smoothbore Rifles.”
In truth, he was lying.
The Mechanical Divinity had already advanced their research to the level of World War II-era weaponry—producing functional replicas of the M1 Garand, Simonov, and Mauser 98K rifles. They’d even built a prototype of the Type II Submachine Gun, the very model Battlefield Wheelchair Man dreamed of.
But this “Firebreaker” Smoothbore Rifle? It was already obsolete. A relic long discarded by the military, decades behind the current standard Long Spear. Most of them sat gathering dust in the Armory, fit only for Goblinoid and Goblin militia.
Saxise studied the weapon carefully, scanning for any trace of a Magic Circuit. Nothing. No runes. No energy signatures.
“How does it work?” he asked, unable to suppress his curiosity.
“Extremely simple,” Battlefield Wheelchair Man replied with a grin. “Let me show you.”
He pulled a small Oil Cloth-wrapped Ammunition pack from his Camouflage Uniform pocket and expertly loaded the round into the rifle’s chamber.
Then, with a swift motion, he raised the rifle, aimed at a distant target, and pulled the Trigger.
Bang!
The gunshot roared through the air. Gunsmoke exploded outward. The Lead Bullet tore through the mannequin, leaving a hail of bullet holes—and the entire figure was knocked flat.
“Such power…” Saxise stared in disbelief.
At the moment the rifle fired, an intense surge of magical energy flared unpredictably—far stronger than expected. The force was on par with a Third-Level Spell.
Sensing Saxise’s astonishment, Battlefield Wheelchair Man let out a low, toothy chuckle, flashing a row of sharp white fangs.
“Compared to the older Firebreaker-II model, this one’s performance has been dramatically upgraded!” he boasted. “The Armor Class accuracy, range, and reliability are all vastly improved. Barrel explosion risk is nearly eliminated. And the design? Absolutely stunning.”
He paused, grinning.
“Truly, the ultimate choice for daily use, battlefield slaughter, and roadside robbery.”
Saxise listened, his mind racing.
The weapon’s power was impressive—but not exceptional by the standards of Sacred Fedran. During the Empire’s golden age, Divine-Blooded Nobles’ Sunwheel Bows could fire arrows with power rivaling Eighth- or Ninth-Level High-Level Spells. But mortals couldn’t even draw the Golden Bowstring.
Yet this “Firebreaker”? Even a frail woman, a child, or an old man—so long as they had basic intelligence—could wield it with ease and achieve the same devastating effect.
Such a magical weapon… should cost a fortune.
Saxise sighed inwardly. He was already preparing to return and apologize to King Wilhelm.
“Regular price: 199 Silver Coins. Today only—99 Silver Coins!”
“Buy five thousand or more, and get an 85% discount!”
Battlefield Wheelchair Man continued his pitch, hitting the price point.
“Of course… 99 gold…” Saxise sighed again—then suddenly snapped his head up. His pupils dilated. His mouth fell open in shock.
“Wait—what did you say?”
Battlefield Wheelchair Man blinked, slightly puzzled. “The unit price is 99 Silver Coins. Order five thousand or more, and you get the 85% discount.”
“This… this can’t be right,” Saxise stammered, his voice trembling. He had to be hearing it wrong.
It wasn’t the price being too high—it was the opposite. It was too low. So unbelievably cheap, it felt surreal.
A single “Firebreaker” rifle—just 99 Silver Coins.
That meant: with only a handful of common mortals, some basic training, and less than 100,000 Gold Coins, they could field a 100,000-man infantry army.
And with Thrace Kingdom’s population and resources? They could raise hundreds of thousands of such troops with ease.
Yes, they might not be able to seriously damage the Empire’s Legendary Strength. But they could easily repel common armies, delay Cassander Kingdom’s advance—turn the tide of war.
“This weapon alone could change the course of the war!” Saxise thought wildly. “I must report this to the King immediately!”
But Saxise had no idea—what he believed was a once-in-a-lifetime bargain was, in truth, a trap. He had just led the Kingdom of Thrace straight into a deep, meticulously laid pit by the Empire.
(End of Chapter)
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