Weapon seller in the world of magic

Mark glanced up, puzzled. Before he could ask, Aerynith nudged him. "Pick something," she whispered urgently. "That's the prestigious Soul Weapon Scroll. Only the sect's most elite disciples are granted this opportunity."

Mark's grip on the scroll tightened. "Any weapon I want? Will it create it for me?"

Lan Yuxuan's expression remained composed. "Yes. Lan Xia requested this on your behalf, ensuring you have a fair chance in the heir trials."

Just then, a familiar notification pinged in Mark's mind.

Ding! Presence of my Creator detected within the scroll, Master

Mark's eyes flickered. Ark, his artificial intelligence, had sensed something.

(Ark, what do you mean?) he asked internally.

*Ding! It's likely created by a fragment of a Creation Orb with the weapon creation magic.

Ark responded.

Mark hummed in thought, then turned back to Lan Yuxuan. "Can this really create any weapon I imagine?"

The elder let out a short breath. "No. Everything has its limitations. If you desire a Deity-slaying weapon or something beyond mortal reach, it won't work. The weapon's quality depends on your willpower and the strength of your soul."

Mark smiled. "That's fair enough. How do I use it?"

"Pour your energy into the scroll and visualize the weapon."

Mark nodded, then spoke internally. (Ark, I'm going to use my soul energy. Give me everything you've got. Let's make this count.)

Ding! Understood, Master. I will try my best.

Mark sat down in a meditative pose and shut his eyes. He poured his ether energy into the scroll, feeling the AI's consciousness travel through his soul energy like a thread of a vast network, diving into the scroll's depths.

The images on the scroll glowed briefly before shifting. A new image appeared, forming slowly. At the same moment, a strange weight settled in Mark's hands. He opened his eyes to find a sleek, familiar object resting in his palms.

It was a handgun. While it looked like a regular one, the details displayed on the holographic screen floating before his eyes say otherwise.

Mark ran his fingers along its smooth, polished surface, inspecting the intricate details. The weapon gleamed under the dim light, its craftsmanship unlike anything the sect had ever seen.

"Not bad," he mused, a smirk forming.

Ding! The weapon has been forcefully bound to your soul

Meanwhile, Lan Yuxuan and Aerynith were staring, their expressions frozen in shock. The ice elf was the first to break the silence. "What… is that? I've never seen a weapon like this before."

Mark chuckled. "This? It's an anti-matter handgun."

"Anti-matter?" Both Lan Yuxuan and Aerynith exchanged confused glances.

Mark merely smiled and stored the weapon away in his inventory. "You wouldn't understand even if I explained it."

He turned back to Lan Yuxuan and handed the scroll back. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

*

Later on, the same day;

The grand library of the sect was a labyrinth of towering shelves, ancient tomes, and scrolls filled with knowledge that spanned countless eras. Mark stepped inside, his sharp gaze sweeping across the dimly lit chamber. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, illuminated by the glow of floating lanterns.

He had come for one reason—to learn about the Immortal Plane and the Golden Demon Cat, along with her elusive Feline Clan. To rescue Anan, the golden demon kitten, he had to know the strengths and weaknesses of this Feline Empire.

As he walked through the aisles, his eyes flickered gold, activating his God Eyes. Information flooded his vision as he scanned the titles embedded in the shelves. His sight locked onto a book titled Beasts of the Immortal Plane, resting high above. Without hesitation, he pushed off the ground and slowly floated high and high effortlessly, his robes billowing as he grabbed the book.

"Okay, this is the book I need." Mark smiled as he slowly descended back to the floor. However, just as he was about to land, he felt a cold, piercing gaze bore into him.

Mark turned his head slightly and saw a woman standing in the corner, her face devoid of emotion. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her dark eyes remained fixed on him as though analyzing a puzzle. Just a moment ago, he was alone in this section of the library and all of a sudden, a young beauty, in the demigod realm, is here.

Mark tried to ignore her, descending lightly onto the marble floor. As he turned to leave, a soft but firm voice stopped him in his tracks.

"How did you fly?" She asked.

Mark faced her fully. Up close, her presence was oddly unsettling—too composed, too still.

The woman further said. "You didn't use any wind manipulation. You just naturally flew high. But, the runes etched onto the walls around the building prohibit the flight ability."

"It's a secret," he replied casually, tucking the book under his arm before walking away.

The woman did not leave. Instead, she followed him.

Whispers spread like wildfire through the library. Students and scholars turned their heads, murmuring amongst themselves. Mark could hear fragments of their curiosity.

"Why is Lady Xia following him?"

"Who is that guy? I've never seen her interested in anyone before."

"He broke the flight restriction law, didn't he?"

Mark sighed. He sat down at a nearby table, opening the book to the section on celestial beasts, but he could still feel her unwavering stare. She stood right in front of him, unmoving, unblinking. The minutes stretched into an hour.

His patience snapped.

"What?" He looked up from the book, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"How did you fly?" she repeated, her voice devoid of inflection, as if asking about the weather.

Mark closed the book with a thud. "It's a skill of mine that negates such a law."

"I have never heard of such a skill within the sect. Or even within the clan," she stated flatly.

Mark leaned back in his chair. "That's because I came from the Mortal Plane of existence. And we have a variety of skills back at our home."

A flicker of something passed through her usually unreadable expression. Surprise? Shock? It was hard to tell. She stood there, her mind seemingly lost in thought.

Mark took the chance to vanish.

Evening had settled over his residence by the time Mark returned. He stepped through the entrance of his home, expecting peace and quiet. Instead, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There she was.

Seated on the couch as if she owned the place and he was the one intruding.

Mark's brows twitched. He shut the door with a little more force than necessary. "What are you doing here?"
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The woman, still as composed as ever, met his gaze. "Teach me the skill."

"Eh? What?" Mark was taken aback.