By dawn the outpost was tense. Soldiers repaired walls and adjusted lookout posts. Everyone expected the Crimson Trace to return. Logan walked through the courtyard with the two prototypes in a wrapped cloth. People stepped aside as he passed. Some nodded with respect. Others stared with fear. The outsider had become a rumor a symbol and a target.

Rhea joined him at the gate. Her armor polished though still cracked from the last battle. Are you ready for this Logan

No he said honestly. But ready does not matter now.

They stood near the entrance waiting for Vorn. The morning mist drifted low across the plains and the wind carried a faint metallic smell. Rhea kept her hand on her sword. Logan kept his hand on the wrapped weapons. When the mist thinned a lone figure approached from the horizon. Vorn walked with steady calm steps his cloak moving like a shadow.

He arrived with a smile. You look tired Logan Mercer. Good. That means the prototypes are excellent.

Logan opened the cloth. Vorn's expression changed. His eyes widened slightly and his breath caught. He picked up the short blade first. The hum of magic made his fingers twitch. He held it to the light and the faint blue lines pulsed.

This he whispered is not a weapon. This is a promise of profit.

Rhea scowled. Do not speak like that in my outpost.

Vorn ignored her and lifted the crossbow next. When he pulled the string his brow furrowed. Smooth. Silent. Balanced. And this channel here. You used core energy stabilizers

Logan nodded. It increases shot consistency.

Vorn lowered the weapon slowly. Do you realize what you have done Logan You changed the definition of weapons overnight.

Logan crossed his arms. Are they sellable

Vorn laughed softly. Sellable is not the word. These will cause bidding wars. Kingdom officers mercenary guilds private buyers anyone who wants power will pay gold for these. I can place them in auctions within a week.

Rhea snapped. You will not auction his work like trophies.

Vorn shrugged. It is business.

Logan stared at him. Before you leave I want details. Who gets the first sale Where does the profit go And how do you plan to handle backlash if someone powerful loses the bid

Vorn grinned. You are learning fast. Good. The first buyer will not be an open auction. I have arranged a private meeting with a small faction leader in the Ember Coast. They are far enough from the main kingdoms to avoid drawing too much attention. The deal will be discreet. Profits split fifty fifty. And if a larger group becomes upset I will redirect their attention to a different seller. Buyers respect me. I can negotiate safe space for you.

Logan shook his head. Nothing is safe in the black market.

Vorn's eyes narrowed slightly. Correct. But I can make it safer.

Rhea stepped forward. Logan you should stop now. You proved you can create. You do not need to sell.

Logan turned to her. If I stop now more groups will come. They will not ask. They will take. Selling gives me leverage reach influence. And options.

Rhea lowered her voice. I can protect you.

Logan smiled faint. You cannot protect me from entire kingdoms.

She looked away.

Vorn clapped his hands lightly. Time is short. Riders spotted on the horizon. They are not mine. Whoever they are they are heading this way. We should finish quickly.

Rhea snapped alert. Which direction

Vorn pointed. North east. Likely scouts from the Silver Courts.

Rhea cursed under her breath. We cannot handle another confrontation.

Logan felt his chest tighten. The Silver Courts were rumored to be a kingdom ruled by noble families who valued magical talent. They would definitely want the prototypes or the creator. Logan wrapped the weapons quickly.

Vorn looked at Logan. I leave now. If the scouts arrive before I am gone they will not let me leave with these. I will send word once the sale is complete.

He turned to Rhea. Captain you may want to prepare your defenses.

Rhea glared. I do not answer to you.

Then she turned to Logan. If the Silver Courts come they will demand your presence. They will not negotiate. They will try to take you by force. You cannot be here when they arrive.

Logan felt the weight of her words. Where do I go

Rhea pointed beyond the southern gate. There is an abandoned outpost three miles south. Hide there until the scouts leave. If they find you they will drag you back in chains.

Vorn nodded. Rhea is right. If the Silver Courts capture you they will use you to arm their armies. That would tilt the realm into a war it cannot recover from.

Logan tightened his grip on the cloth. But if I leave Brinn becomes a target.

Rhea shook her head. If you stay Brinn becomes a battlefield. Go. Now.

The urgency in her voice gave him no time to argue. Logan ran to the southern gate. Rhea followed him and handed him a small bag containing dried meat a flask of water and a compact map.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. You are not alone Logan. Remember that.

He nodded. Thank you Rhea.

Vorn called from behind. Hurry. I must leave now. You must leave too.

Logan slipped through the gate and started running across the dusty plains. Behind him he heard Rhea shouting orders and guards scrambling to reinforce defenses. In the distance the faint silhouettes of riders appeared heading toward Outpost Brinn.

The world moved fast. Faster than he could control. But he was in it now with weapons that could change everything and enemies who would chase him across kingdoms.

As he ran he whispered to himself a promise.

If they want my weapons they have to pay
If they want my skill they have to bargain
If they want my freedom they will have to fight

Logan Mercer was no longer just hiding.

He was beginning his real role.

Not only a craftsman
Not only a manufacturer
But the rising name in a realm fueled by war

The first true arms dealer of another world.