Ashen Dragon

The diplomatic mission eventually recovered from their shock.

After all, they still had a task to complete.

Guided by the Tiefling Guards, Sachsie and his group boarded the rather novel steam locomotive, arriving at a clearing on the outskirts of Isdalia.

The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder. There were few buildings here, only dozens of humanoid targets riddled with bullet holes.

Sachsie furrowed his brow.

He had expected to see the arrogant Imperial army displaying their armor and weapons, but that was not the case.

"Are you sure this is the place?"

"Absolutely."

"This is indeed your destination."

"Ah, you must be the clients from the Thrace Kingdom."

Sachsie turned his head and saw a Half-Dragon, dressed in an odd combination of black and dark green attire, walking briskly towards them, waving cheerfully—he had several long wooden boxes slung over his back.

"Hello, hello."

"I am the Empire's munitions sales specialist, you can call me Battlefield Wheelchair Man."

Battlefield Wheelchair Man grinned widely, gripping Sachsie's hand tightly.

Aside from the peculiar name and outfit, the enthusiastic energy was rather baffling to Sachsie, even making him suspect some kind of trickery.

So, he maintained the image of Thrace Kingdom's chief diplomat with a particularly serious expression.

"You must know that the Thrace Kingdom is currently engaged in a large-scale war."

"We need to purchase a batch of weapons."

"I hope your products will not disappoint me."

"Of course, of course, please come this way."

"I will give you a detailed introduction to the Empire's munitions. All the samples are here, and I guarantee they won't let you down."

Battlefield Wheelchair Man enthusiastically escorted them to the shooting range, where he took down the wooden boxes from his back.

"Are these it?"

Sachsie furrowed his brow again.

From his experience, the most commonly used equipment by soldiers on large battlefields were spears, bows, and armor, with elite units having magical runes applied to these arms.

These wooden boxes did not seem capable of containing such equipment.

Battlefield Wheelchair Man eagerly opened one of the wooden boxes, taking out an exquisitely crafted "long stick," handling it skillfully in his hands.

"This is..."

Sachsie recognized this type of weapon. He had seen similar ones with the Tiefling Guards.

However, he was not clear on its use and did not sense any magical aura.

How could such a thing...

...be used to kill enemies?

Seemingly sensing the doubt in Sachsie's eyes, Battlefield Wheelchair Man patted the gun in his hand confidently:

"This is the latest model developed by our Empire's munitions research—the 'Enemy's Bane-III Model (Export Version).'"

"It is the pinnacle of our Empire's firearm craftsmanship, a premium among smoothbore guns."

In fact, Battlefield Wheelchair Man was lying here.

The leaders of the Mechanical God Cult had already advanced their research to the level of World War II, producing replicas of M1 Garand, Simonov, Mauser 98K, and various other firearms.

They had even made models of Battlefield Wheelchair Man's coveted Type Two Submachine Gun.

However, the "Enemy's Bane" smoothbore gun was already a product that had been completely phased out by the military and was several generations behind the current standard long guns.

Most of them were left to gather dust in the armory, only fit for use by Goblin Militia and Kobolds.

Sachsie closely observed the so-called "smoothbore gun," trying to find any magic circuits on it, but found nothing.

"How... is it used?"

Sachsie couldn't help but ask.

"It's very simple and straightforward. I'll demonstrate it for you."

Battlefield Wheelchair Man replied with excitement.

He took some ammunition wrapped in oilcloth from his camouflage pocket and skillfully loaded it through the muzzle.

Then, Battlefield Wheelchair Man raised the gun to shoulder level, aimed at the target, and quickly pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

Gunfire roared and smoke billowed.

The lead bullet from the ammunition pierced through the myriad of holes on the target, knocking it down.

"Such power..."

"How is this possible?"

Sachsie's expression was one of astonishment.

He felt a sudden and intense magical reaction when the firearm discharged, and its power was on par with certain Third Tier Spells.

Seeing Sachsie's shock, Battlefield Wheelchair Man grinned, exposing his sharp, white teeth, and continued his enthusiastic pitch:

"Compared to the previous 'Enemy's Bane-II Model,' its overall performance has greatly improved."

"This 'Enemy's Bane-III Model (Export Version)' has seen qualitative changes in accuracy and range, with a significantly reduced chance of barrel burst and a highly appealing design."

"It's simply indispensable for home defense, battlefield killing, and highway robbery...."

As Battlefield Wheelchair Man continued his sales pitch, Sachsie lowered his head in thought.

Although the power of this weapon was decent, it was nothing compared to the former Holy Fadlan.

At the height of the Empire, the Divine Descendant Nobles' "Sun Wheel Bow" fired arrows with power comparable to high-tier spells of the Eighth or Ninth Tier.

Yet an ordinary person could not string such a gilded bow.

However, this so-called "Enemy's Bane" could be used with equal potency by even the weakest woman, child, or elderly person, as long as they were not intellectually deficient.

But such a magical weapon would undoubtedly be expensive.

The Emperor likely intended to extort a hefty sum of gold coins from them under the guise of "trade," while claiming to "support Thrace Kingdom" and squeezing them mercilessly.

Sachsie sighed, already preparing to beg for forgiveness from His Majesty Wilhelm upon his return.

"Original price 199 silver coins, now only 99 silver coins!"

"If you order more than 50,000 units at once, you can enjoy a 15% discount!"

Battlefield Wheelchair Man continued his enthusiastic spiel, just getting to the sales price.

"As expected, it costs ninety-nine gold..."

Sachsie sighed, then abruptly raised his head, his pupils dilating, mouth opening involuntarily.

"Wait—"

"What did you say the price was?"

Battlefield Wheelchair Man was a bit puzzled, but repeated, "The unit price is 99 silver coins, and you can enjoy a 15% discount on orders over 50,000 units."

"This, this..."

Sachsie's voice trembled as he repeatedly confirmed whether he had heard correctly.

Not because the price was too expensive.

But because it was too cheap.

So cheap it seemed unbelievable.

One "Enemy's Bane" was priced at only 99 silver coins.

That meant: they just needed to gather some insignificant ordinary people, give them minimal training, and spend less than 100,000 gold coins to raise an army of 100,000 infantrymen.

Given the population and finances of Thrace Kingdom, raising tens of thousands of such an army was more than feasible.

Though it would hardly inflict significant damage on the enemy's legendary strength, it would be more than enough to deal with regular troops and slow down the Cassandra Kingdom's advance.

"This could change the course of the war!"

"I must report to His Majesty immediately!"

Sachsie shouted in his mind.

However, Sachsie did not know that although he believed he had found a great bargain, he had inadvertently led the Thrace Kingdom straight into a meticulously crafted trap by the Empire.