Two Months Later.
The winter had deepened, turning the Borderlands into a white hellscape.
Inside the storage warehouse of Ironhold Keep, there was no noise of hammers or heat of furnaces. There were no workers sweating over crucibles.
There was only silence, mountains of raw sand, and Dante.
He stood alone in the center of the cavernous room. He wore his black noble coat, his breath misting in the cold air.
[System Quest Alert: The Iron Legion] [Objective: Fabricate 500 Steel Pikes and 500 Breastplates.] [Reasoning: Hostile entities detected in region. Defense priority is Absolute.] [Reward: Blueprint - Repeater Crossbow.]
Dante swiped the red notification away. "Dismiss."
The window flickered but didn't disappear. It pulsed faster.
[Warning: Directive Ignored. Survival Probability without fortification: 12%.] [Compliance Required.]
"I don't need pikes," Dante said to the empty air, his voice cold. "I need money. An army without gold is just a mob."
He pulled up his own interface, selecting the blueprint he had mentally drafted.
[Blueprint Selected: Optical Grade Float Glass (Silver Backed).]
The System fought him.
[Analysis: Luxury Goods. Utility: Zero. Combat Effectiveness: Zero.][Fabrication Request Denied. Please return to Primary Objective: War.]
Dante's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the first time the System had tried to steer him. It wanted blood. It wanted conquest. It acted less like a tool and more like a handler.
"I am not your soldier," Dante hissed. "And I am not a variable in your simulation. I am the User. Override."
The System paused. The air in the warehouse grew heavy, the static electricity spiking until the hairs on Dante's arms stood up. It was a silent threat.
[Override Accepted.] [Penalty Applied: Energy Cost Doubled for Non-Combat Fabrication.] [Note: Inefficiency will be noted in your file.]
"Note this," Dante muttered, extending his hand toward the pile of sand. "Execute."
HUMMMMMM.
The air in the warehouse vibrated. A grid of blue hard-light erupted from his palm, scanning the chaotic pile of sand.
At the molecular level, the System seized control, though it felt sluggish, resistant—like a horse fighting the bit. It stripped the impurities, rearranged the lattice structure, and fused the silica.
The sand didn't melt; it simply became glass.
In a flash of blue light that illuminated the dark warehouse, the pile of dirt vanished. In its place stood neat, perfectly stacked rows of full-length vanity mirrors, their surfaces flawless and gleaming.
Dante exhaled, rubbing his temple. The double energy cost had drained him significantly; his nose was bleeding slightly.
"You want a war?" Dante wiped the blood away, looking at the System interface. "I'll buy you a war. But we do it my way."
"Elara," Dante called out.
The warehouse doors creaked open. Elara walked in, followed by a squad of soldiers in their black Mass-Produced armor. They stopped, staring at the sudden appearance of the mirrors with wide eyes.
"Load the wagons," Dante ordered, checking his inventory stats. "We have glass. Now we need gold."
The Royal Capital: Aethelgard.Three Days Later.
The capital was a sprawling city of white stone and magic towers. It was the heart of the Kingdom, where Mages ruled and commoners begged.
In the center of the Merchant District stood the Gilded Eye, the most prestigious shop in the city. It was owned by the Mage Guild, and it held the monopoly on mirrors and crystal balls.
A silver mirror at the Gilded Eye cost 50 Gold Coins. It was a luxury only nobles could afford.
But today, the street in front of the Gilded Eye was empty.
The crowd was across the street.
A massive crowd—nobles, merchants, even commoners—was pushing and shoving to get into a new shop that had opened overnight. The sign above the door was simple, written in stark, modern font:
VALTORIA INDUSTRIES.
Inside, Elara stood behind a glass counter. She was terrified, but she held her ground. Behind her, the wall was covered in mirrors.
Not polished silver. Not cloudy magic crystal. System-Fabricated Float Glass.
They were perfect. They reflected the world with 100% fidelity.
"How much for the hand mirror?" a Duchess asked, clutching her pearls. "It... it's flawless. I can see my pores. It must be a thousand gold!"
Elara smiled, reciting the line Dante had drilled into her.
"Five gold coins, Your Grace."
The Duchess froze. "Five? For this quality? You... you mean five hundred?"
"Five," Elara repeated. "And if you buy the full-length vanity mirror, we'll throw in a set of crystal wine glasses for free."
Pandemonium erupted.
"I'll take ten!" "Out of my way!" "Here is my money!"
Dante watched from the shadows of the back room, sipping a cup of wine. He checked his System interface.
$$Sales Report: Day 1$$Units Sold: 4,000$$Revenue: 20,000 Gold Coins.$$Market Share: 85%.$$
He smiled. With this gold, he could buy enough Uranium and Steel to level the entire mountain range—regardless of what the System thought was "inefficient."
The door to the shop slammed open.
The crowd quieted instantly. A group of men in purple robes marched in. They radiated mana and arrogance.
The Mage Guild.
The leader, a fat man with a gold-tipped staff, pushed his way to the counter. He looked at the perfect mirrors, his face turning red.
"Who owns this shop?" the Mage demanded.
Dante stepped out from the back. "I do."
The Mage sneered. "You are selling enchanted items without a Guild License. That is a crime punishable by seizure of assets."
"Enchanted?" Dante raised an eyebrow. "Scan it."
The Mage blinked. He raised his staff, casting a Detect Magic spell on the mirror.
Nothing happened. The mirror was just glass and silver. No mana. No runes.
"It... it has no magic," the Mage stammered. "But that's impossible! Only Water Magic can polish a surface this smooth!"
"Since it's not magic, your Guild laws don't apply to me." Dante said coldly.
The Mage's face twisted. He realized what was happening. This wasn't just a shop. It was an existential threat. If commoners could buy perfect mirrors for 5 gold, the Guild's monopoly—and their funding—would evaporate overnight.
"You think you can play games with us, boy?" the Mage hissed, lowering his voice. "We own this city. Close this shop by noon, or it burns down with you inside."
Dante leaned forward, his eyes locking onto the Mage's.
"I burned a Baron for threatening me," Dante whispered. "Do you really want to see what I do to a shoplifter?"
The Mage recoiled, sensing the killing intent radiating off this "merchant."
"You have made powerful enemies today," the Mage spat, turning to leave. "The Grand Magus will hear of this!"
As the Mages stormed out, the crowd looked nervous.
Dante turned to his customers, raising his voice.
"Valtoria Industries is now open for wholesale!" Dante announced. "And for the next hour... everything is 20% off!"
The fear vanished. The greed returned. The crowd surged forward, ignoring the angry wizards outside.
Dante watched them buy. He had his gold back. And he had just declared war on one of the most powerful organizations in the world.