Chapter 169: Thunder and Respect
Caelen and Varis pulled the triggers at the same time. The roar of the gunshots deafened the air, accompanied by a dense cloud of white smoke and the smell of sulfur erupting from the muzzles.
A second later, the giant three-meter deer collapsed onto the bed of dry leaves without so much as a grunt. Neither Caelen nor Varis could see the projectile’s trajectory; to their eyes, the beast had simply been struck by an invisible lightning bolt that tore through its thick hide and shattered its vital organs.
The young heir stood paralyzed, his ears ringing and his face pale with shock. Varis, his hands trembling, lowered his weapon as the smoke dissipated among the trees.
"Let us inspect the kill," Kellar said, stepping forward into the grove.
The two merchants followed Kellar with cautious steps. Arriving beside the creature’s carcass, Caelen knelt to examine the wound. A small entry hole on the side of the deer’s chest had been enough to bring down a beast that normally required a dozen arrows or heavy spears to fell.
Varis stared at the iron rifle he held in his hands. The clumsiness with which they had handled it minutes prior disappeared, replaced by a cautious reverence. They no longer saw a heavy metal tube; they held an artifact capable of taking life from a distance without giving prey or enemy the slightest chance.
"It is... a terrifying power, Great Shaman," Varis whispered, stroking the wood of the stock with respect. "A creature of this size fell in the blink of an eye."
"That is the effectiveness of the Bear God," Kellar replied with a smile. "And this is merely a taste. If you find this power impressive, join us at the rear of the village. My men should have the testing grounds ready by now."
Caelen stood up, tightening his grip on the weapon with a mixture of fascination and dread.
As they walked back toward the fortress, Caelen and Varis’s minds kept racing around the rifle. Caelen could no longer contain his curiosity and gazed at the iron structure in his hands.
"Great Shaman, what kind of alloy is this fire-mouth made of?" Caelen asked, pointing to the barrel’s curve. "And what is the exact formula of that black sand causing such thunder? My blacksmiths in the capital have never achieved anything like this."
"These are secrets blessed by the Bear God," Kellar replied, maintaining a measured tone and an indecipherable smile. "Sacred knowledge is not shared with just anyone, Young Master Caelen. Only those who walk in our tribe’s shadow understand its true nature."
"I understand..." Caelen whispered, somewhat disappointed yet fascinated.
"Could we see the loading process once more?" Varis asked, slowing his pace slightly and staring at the mechanism. "I would like to properly gauge the time it takes your men to prepare each shot."
"Of course," Kellar said, gesturing to his soldier. "Demonstrate the procedure again."
The soldier handled the rifle with expertise. He poured the measure of black powder down the muzzle, inserted the polished steel ball, and rammed it to the bottom with the rod before priming the pan. Varis did not look away for a single second, running calculations in his mind.
"It takes time," Varis commented in a low voice to Caelen. "It is not a fast weapon... but the impact power and distance make the reload time a minor drawback in a mass formation."
"Exactly, Varis," Caelen agreed, his eyes gleaming. "A wall of these tubes would shatter any cavalry before they even touched the defensive lines."
Re-entering the rear perimeter of the village, the field appeared clear and deserted, save for a long cord and a fine metallic wire trailing from the undergrowth and sinking directly into the soil.
Caelen stopped in his tracks and pointed at the ground.
"What is that wire woven into the dirt, Great Shaman?" Caelen asked, furrowing his brow. "Is it part of some boundary?"
"You will see in a moment," Kellar replied.
Without further explanation, Kellar guided them to an elevated hill far from the parade ground, positioning them behind a thick barrier of sandbags and stacked logs.
Varis looked at the distance separating them from the center of the field and glanced at Kellar with doubt.
"Will we be able to see anything from this distance, Great Shaman?" Varis asked, adjusting his cloak against the cold breeze. "We are far too distant; one can barely make out the center of the field."
"Trust me, Varis," Kellar said, giving a subtle nod to Mentz, who waited a few paces away with a lit match in hand. "From here you will have the best view possible."
"We trust you, Great Shaman," Varis said, bowing his head while keeping an eyebrow raised in skepticism.
Kellar looked at Mentz and gave the order with absolute composure.
"Ignite it."
Mentz brought the torch to the fuse. A bright spark caught immediately, and the flame began to race along the ground, snaking through the low grass. Caelen and Varis watched the tiny serpent of fire advance toward the center of the cleared field, not fully understanding the purpose of such a display.
"A spark running down a wire?" Caelen muttered, letting out a faint laugh as he crossed his arms. "Is this what you wanted to show us, Great Shaman? In the capital, alchemists use far more flashy fireworks for the empire’s festivities."
Varis said nothing, but the condescending look on his face made it clear he shared his young master’s thoughts. That trail of smoke struck them as a childish trick compared to the ferocity of the rifle they had tested in the forest.
Kellar did not bother responding to the provocation. He kept his eyes fixed on the spot where the fuse was about to vanish into the dirt and adjusted the collar of his tunic.
"You had better cover your ears," Kellar said in a low voice.
Caelen and Varis exchanged a mocking smirk, but out of simple courtesy and caution at the Great Shaman’s tone, they raised their hands to cover their ears anyway.