Six months passed like a fleeting gust across the shattered stars.
To most, it was a lull—an uneasy peace rippling across sectors due to the war. But Mark was fighting two wars. One with the Feline Forces and another to keep up with the demand for his weapons.
Mark personally hadn't fought on the battlefield since Mulan City's reclamation. He was purely focused on just commanding people or relaying his superior's orders to the captains. Not because he wants to stay from the battlefield, but it is because he is too busy becoming a god of weapons manufacturing.
Across the planets controlled by the Sky Pavilion Sect, whispers grew of a new kind of weapon, compact and deadly. A sleek firearm that spat elemental bullets with the pull of a trigger. No chanting, no sigils. Just aim… and fire.
