Before sunrise the Coalition compound was already awake. Stable workers prepared the armored beasts. Guards rotated shifts. Merchants carried crates into wagons and scribes checked ledgers under lantern light. The air smelled of leather dust and faint traces of morning dew. Logan stood in the courtyard wearing light reinforced travel armor and a small toolkit strapped across his waist. Mira adjusted her gear straps beside him her movements precise. Renn stepped nervously checking the core containers for the tenth time.

Lira approached with a clipboard and a tired expression. You really are set on this Logan

Logan nodded. Brinn stood by me when I had nothing. If the Guardian Set can help them survive I am taking it myself.

Lira sighed. Thalen approved your departure but only with one condition. You travel under Coalition escort. No wandering alone. No detours.

Logan nodded. Fine. I do not want detours.

She pointed to a covered wagon with reinforced sides. Inside. Your equipment is secured. The weapons are wrapped in shock resistant layers. Mira your tools are packed. Renn your core stabilization chamber is locked and sealed.

Mira smirked. They really prepared everything.

Renn swallowed. Too much. It feels like we are delivering treasure.

Lira answered. You are.

Logan climbed into the wagon and sat beside the Guardian Set. The crossbow and blade rested in a padded chest secured with metal locks. This was the first official project of his new life and he felt a strange mixture of pride and anxiety.

A Coalition officer approached the wagon and spoke. We travel with eight riders. We take the south trail then cut west to avoid the Silver Courts scouts. If we stay ahead we should reach Brinn in two days.

Logan nodded. Lets move.

The caravan rolled out of the compound with low rumbles of wheels and beast hooves. Logan watched the marketplace fade behind them. Mira leaned against the wagon wall sharpening a spare blade. Renn stared out the back flap scanning the horizon anxiously.

Several hours passed with no trouble. The plains stretched wide open and the sky was clear. The only sound was the wagon creaking and the steady breathing of the armored beasts pulling it. Logan finally let his shoulders relax slightly.

But the peace did not last.

Just before noon one of the forward riders raised his hand sharply. Halt.

The caravan stopped. Logan leaned out the side and saw the rider pointing toward a ridge. Dust rose behind it in sharp lines. Fast movement. Organized.

The officer cursed quietly. Crimson Trace.

Mira stiffened. How did they find us so fast

Renn whispered. They must have spies near the Coalition markets.

The officer barked orders. Form a defensive arc. Protect the wagon.

Logan jumped down gripping the Guardian Blade. Mira readied a smaller side knife. Renn held a core stabilizer like a defensive charm though his hands shook.

The Crimson Trace riders came over the ridge like a wave. A formation of ten mounted fighters wearing dark cloaks with red thread trims. Their beasts snarled with heavy claws digging into the earth. Their leader shouted across the distance.

Logan Mercer. We warned you. You belong to us.

Logan stepped forward. I belong to no one.

The leader laughed. Then we take you by force.

He signaled. The riders charged.

The caravan guards braced their shields. Logan pulled the Guardian Crossbow from the chest and loaded a bolt. The stabilizer hummed. Mira stood beside him ready to throw a reinforced blade if necessary. Renn ducked behind the wagon but held a small core fragment glowing faintly.

The Crimson Trace closed the distance fast.

Logan aimed at the lead rider and fired. The bolt struck the beast’s shoulder with a heavy crack. The creature stumbled and the rider fell hard into the dirt.

Mira flicked a blade that slashed across another rider’s bracer causing him to lose grip of his reins. The Coalition guards advanced blocking the next charge with circular shields.

The Crimson Trace circled around preparing for a second run. Logan reloaded quickly. Renn shouted from behind. Incoming from the left

Logan turned and fired again striking another rider’s leg. The man dropped from his saddle.

The battle surged. Dust filled the air. Beasts roared. Mira moved like a sharp wind slicing ropes and deflecting blows. The guards held formation but the Crimson Trace refused to retreat. They wanted Logan more than they wanted victory.

The leader pointed at the wagon and shouted. Take the weapons. Destroy the others.

Logan’s pulse tightened. They knew about the Guardian Set. They knew he was carrying something valuable. That meant spies had informed them. Someone inside the black market had already sold his movements.

The leader charged straight toward Logan. His beast lowered its head ready to crush him. Logan braced the Guardian Crossbow and fired point blank. The bolt slammed into the beast’s helm. It shrieked and collapsed. The leader rolled free and pulled a curved blade.

Logan drew the Guardian Short Blade and met him. Metal clashed. Sparks flew. The leader swung with brutal force but Logan used the blade’s balance to redirect the strikes. He ducked under a heavy swing and countered with a quick cut across the man’s arm. The beastbone edge sliced cleanly through the leather armor.

The leader hissed in pain. You think a toy blade saves you outsider

Logan stepped forward. It is not a toy. It is innovation.

He struck again. A sharp precise cut. The leader stumbled and fell backward. His remaining riders saw him fall and retreated into the hills with angry shouts vowing revenge.

The caravan fell silent except for heavy breathing. Dust settled around them.

The officer approached Logan. You fight well. But they will come again. They want you. And whatever you carry.

Mira wiped sweat from her brow. That was too close.

Renn muttered. Way too close.

Logan sheathed the blade. They will hunt us until we reach Brinn. And after that they will keep hunting.

The officer asked. Do we continue

Logan nodded firmly. Yes. We continue. Brinn needs these weapons. And the sooner they have them the better chance they have of surviving what is coming.

The officer gave a sharp nod. Then we ride fast.

The caravan formed up again moving into a tighter formation. Logan climbed back into the wagon gripping the Guardian Set with renewed purpose.

The realm wanted him
Enemies hunted him
And his creations drew blood for the first time

But nothing would stop him from delivering these weapons to Brinn.

Because Logan Mercer
Now fully stepped into his role
Was becoming the arms dealer this world feared and needed.