Weapon seller in the world of magic-Chapter 719: The Peace Treaty (Part-1)

Hours slipped away inside the bridal chamber, yet neither Mark nor Lan Xia noticed the passage of time.

With pent-up lust suppressed because of various events that occurred for Mark, he went on and on for hours. Not to mention, Lan Xia was also an immortal, and Lan Xia has high stamina. The only thing Mark didn’t expect was her cooperation.

Hours later, by the time the candles were half melted, they lay together naked in sweat-soaked sheets, their bodies pressed close, breathing hard but smiling through exhaustion.

Lan Xia rested atop his chest, tracing idle circles on his skin, her cheeks still flushed.

"In the books," she murmured, her voice soft and dazed, "it says people... only last twenty minutes. Maybe an hour. But us..." She buried her warming face against him. "How... how did it end up like that? And this is even my first time..."

Mark chuckled weakly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I might have... gone a bit overboard," he admitted. "It’s been a year after all. But I didn’t expect you to be aggressive too."

To which Lan Xia blushed in embarrassment and looked away, "Well, it’s not my fault. The bloodline of Frost Dragon King acted in the middle, taking over my reasoning."

Mark chuckled, "That’s good then. I won’t have to worry in the future, then."

Lan Xia lifted her head, looking into his eyes, closer now than she had ever been.

"Tell me something, Zhen-Ge... Even when I move to your main residence later, even after I start living with your family... you’ll still take care of me, right?" she whispered. "I know you love Sister Song Yue deeply. I know her place in your heart. But... when we’re alone... I want you to think of only me. I want my share of your time, of your affection."

Mark smiled, sliding his hand along the curve of her back. "You’ll have it," he murmured. "All of it."

Her eyes softened. She leaned in to kiss him, slowly at first, then with rising heat that made him pull her back into his arms again.

Feeling the hardness of the thing touching her, she startled for a second. As she looked at him, Mark awkwardly smiled, "Sorry. It looks like I’m not done."

Lan Xia giggled, "Alright then... I’ll drain you completely..." She went on kissing him deeply.

And once more, the candles flickered against the curtains as the two newlyweds surrendered to their lust. By the time they drifted into sleep, it was already past 4.

*

Only a couple of hours later, soft knocking echoed through the chamber door.

"Milord... Madam... dawn has arrived. It is time to visit the ancestral shrine."

Mark groaned, momentarily considering burying himself under the covers. Lan Xia curled closer into him, equally unwilling to move.

"Morning already...?" he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. "We just fell asleep..."

Lan Xia blushed and gently pushed at his chest. "It’s your fault," she whispered.

Mark gave a tired laugh. "Who is the one who challenged to drain my energy and stamina..."

She hit him lightly with a pillow. "pervert..."

Still, responsibilities awaited. With weary limbs and lingering warmth between them, they rose from the bed.

*

Later in the afternoon;

Mark sat alone in a private chamber, elbows resting on the carved table, one hand supporting his head, the other holding the sealed scroll that the Fifth Prince had delivered.

The earlier meeting with the sect envoys had been long and exhausting. He had repeated his plans, about the gunmaster profession, the expansion of grounds, the independence declaration, so many times that even his calm composure had begun to strain at the edges.

Now that the hall was empty and the voices were gone, the silence around him felt heavier than before.

He broke the seal slowly and unrolled the scroll at last. His eyes moved across the first half, taking in the surface generosity with a steady, indifferent expression.

The Imperial Court formally recognized Azure Frost Dominion as independent. It was a hundred-year peace treaty, withdrawal of officials and troops, and a guaranteed period where the Empire would not interfere with Dominion matters.

Even the purchase of adamantine guns and ammunition seemed harmless enough, especially when the Empire offered large quantities of rare stardust ore in exchange.

Adding on top of that, there’s also a matter involved Prince Zetian, his expression became still. Prince Zetian was not sent here as an envoy.

The direct imperial descendant was actually sent to the sect as a disciple. It was supposedly a sign of trust, a political hostage one might say. But Mark wasn’t comfortable with it.

Even if Zetian behaved politely, even if he was respectful, his presence alone would force the sect to act carefully. After all, he would be a potential spy for the Throne.

It looked like friendship. It looked like the Emperor was showing his respect at first. But now, Mark felt something was off.

He breathed slowly and moved on.

The next line made his brows draw together.

Whatever mentioned before is what the empire is giving him. And now the things they want in return in exchange.

First, Ten million Cronies every year for a hundred years, and every decade the amount would rise. It felt like they were looking for a way to bleed the Dominion quietly, politely. If the Dominion refused to pay, the Empire would have a legitimate excuse to declare them enemies. And with an imperial prince inside the sect, the threat would only grow heavier.

His gaze darkened as he reached the second clause that dictated the Dominion’s expansion. For a full century, they were forbidden from growing outward even after gaining independence. They were forbidden from helping any foreign force against the Empire.

As for the third clause, it isn’t that serious. It was a demand for Lei Fenghyun to be returned. As a direct disciple, he couldn’t abandon his sect on his own. It would be harmful to his reputation. And neither can be expelled from the sect, which will also damage the reputation of the family. But the Sect master can release him from his duties. That’s what the throne is asking for.

And then came the fourth clause, where in exchange for putting their Prince Zetian as a political hostage at Lan Sect, the Emperor wanted Lan Yichen, Elder Yuxuan’s grandson, to be delivered like a hostage.

Still, the scroll wasn’t done with him yet.

When his eyes reached the final condition, he felt a cold pressure settle in his chest.

It was a proposed dual marriage alliance with the Imperial Family, one pairing involving him, the other involving his sister. Shang Jiao, only 18, matched with the 21st Prince. And himself, matched with the Emperor’s granddaughter, who would reach maturity in two years.

Mark leaned back in his chair, the scroll spread open before him, his expression unreadable.

So this is how you want to play it, Emperor Lei.

Mark exhaled through his nose, "but you made one mistake... The one you wrote the proposal for isn’t Lan Yujin... It’s Mark... Mark Spencer... And there is no deal Mark will make that goes against his ethics or face a loss. In this case, it is both..." A faint smile tugged at Mark’s lips, one that held no warmth.

He folded the scroll carefully, set it on the table, and tapped his fingers in a steady rhythm as his mind began crafting its response.

In the next instant, Mark summoned the prince, who is still a guest in his palace.

When Zetian entered the chamber, the youth saluted politely, his expression calm yet sharp, too sharp for someone his age.

Mark wasted no time in exchanging pleasantries and directly placed the first scroll in front of him and spoke plainly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

He rejected every major condition without hesitation. No hostages. No arranged marriages. No century-long tax disguised as "tribute." The only point he was willing to compromise on was returning Lei Fenghyun, because the man himself had long wished to go back. Money? If the Empire wanted it so badly, Mark would rather throw a mountain of cronies at them for ten years than bow for a hundred.

Zetian listened without interruption. He didn’t defend the Emperor. He didn’t try to persuade.

He simply waited, and when Mark finished, the young prince drew out a second scroll from his sleeve, sealed with a different emblem.

"My uncle anticipated this, Patriarch Lan," Zetian said softly. "He instructed me to deliver this if you rejected the first terms outright."