Chapter 13

By the time they reached the castle, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold. Charlo arranged for the inspection to take place the following morning and invited Clyris to stay the night within the keep.

Clyris, having little choice given her weakened state, agreed. However, she declined his invitation to dinner, choosing instead to isolate herself in the guest room Charlo had prepared.

Throughout the night, she remained fully dressed in her disguise, sitting on the bed in a meditative trance, seizing every second to knit her raveled mana back together.

The Next Morning.

Clyris rose before the sun. She climbed to the top of the highest spire of the keep to survey the land below.

When she had entered the city the previous evening, the twilight had obscured the details. Now, under the harsh, revealing light of the morning sun, everything was laid bare.

It was called Ironwood Keep, but Clyris felt Ironwood City was a more fitting name.

Centering on the Lord's castle, a vast array of orderly buildings spread outwards like the gears of a clock, enclosed by a gray stone wall six meters high.

 * To the East: Rows of brightly colored, uniform houses. Unlike the chaotic sprawl of medieval cities, these were aligned perfectly.

 * To the North: A commercial district where hundreds of stalls connected to form three long, bustling market streets.

 * To the West: Several large, peculiar structures with tall chimneys belching black smoke—factories.

 * To the South: A large public square surrounded by civic buildings.

The urban planning was meticulous to the point of being unnatural. The placement of houses and the design of the roads made the entire city look like a carefully woven net, maximizing efficiency and minimizing chaos. It felt... designed.

After a while, seeing Charlo emerge from the keep below, Clyris leaped lightly from the spire, floating down to land gracefully in front of him.

"When do we leave?" she asked impatiently, the moment her boots touched the cobblestones.

"Right now."

Clyris mounted her horse and followed him out of the city. They rode south for an hour until they reached a hilltop overlooking a desolate, scrub-filled valley.

A camp had already been established there. As they dismounted at the perimeter, two knights stepped forward to take their reins.

"My Lord, the artillery crew is ready, and the range has been cleared!" a knight reported.

"Good work, Davis. Lead the way." Charlo patted his shoulder.

Following Davis, they crested the hill. There, sitting ominously on the ridge, were four large "monsters" of steel and wood.

Two large iron wheels were partially buried in the earth for stability. Between them rested a long, thick iron tube, cold and menacing. Behind the tube, a heavy iron trail was dug into the ground to absorb the recoil.

Clyris approached them cautiously. Like the pistol, they emitted no active mana fluctuation. The iron tubes were inscribed with the same containment runes. Clearly, these were the "big ones" Charlo wanted to show her.

"This is the most powerful weapon currently fielded by my army," Charlo introduced with pride, slapping the cold iron barrel. "The 150mm Cannon. It can deliver an 11-kilogram shell to a target four kilometers away."

"Although it is still a muzzle-loader, its power is not to be underestimated! The shell is filled with a new type of high-explosive compound. Once it hits the enemy—whether it's blocked by a mana shield or impacts the ground—the impact fuze inside ignites the payload! And then—BOOM!"

He made an exaggerated exploding gesture with his hands.

"There are no containment runes on the shell itself. Once the explosives inside detonate, the casing is instantly torn apart, turning the steel shell into razor-sharp shrapnel. Along with the violent expansion of hot gas and the shockwave, it brings equitable death to all life in the vicinity! , Its Kill Radius is thirty meters. Within this range, ordinary humans are dead, and Low-Rank supernaturals will be heavily injured or incapacitated. Its Absolute Kill Radius is fifteen meters. Within this zone, anyone below Mid-Rank is dead, and even a Fourth-Rank Knight will be crippled!"

Listening to his long-winded introduction, Clyris was baffled. What is a millimeter? What is a kilogram? These were terms she had never heard before.

They retreated to the safety of the observation post. Clyris watched as a dozen ordinary men—commoners without a scrap of mana—bustled around one of the so-called "cannons."

Their movements were practiced and fluid. They had clearly done this hundreds of times.

Soon, two of them rammed a "shell" down the tube. The crew stepped back, and the leader signaled readiness.

"Watch closely!" Charlo warned, covering his ears.

Clyris watched as one of the men yanked a lanyard.

BOOM!

A massive surge of chaotic mana erupted from within the barrel, but it was contained, directed solely forward.

Just as Charlo had demonstrated with the pistol, an iron sphere was propelled out of the tube by the violent expansion of gas. But the sound was incomparable—a thunderous roar that shook the earth in her chest.

Arcing through the air, the shell landed in the designated target zone below.

True to his word, it detonated.

CRUMP.

A massive explosion threw soil and rock high into the air, leaving a crater as deep as a man is tall.

Clyris noted that the target area was actually more than four kilometers away. The "four kilometers" he mentioned must refer to effective range on flat ground. Firing from a high vantage point extended the range, just like an archer on a wall.

Next, the four cannons fired in sequence.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Giant roars echoed like rolling thunder. From beginning to end, no magic was cast by the operators. When the smoke cleared, the target area was cratered and desolate. Not a single blade of grass remained.

"Well? What do you think?" Charlo asked with a confident smile as the firing ceased and the ringing in their ears subsided.

"Hmm... The power is indeed considerable," Clyris affirmed with a nod. "If you had a dozen of these firing together, even a Fifth-Rank entity would be injured if caught in the center."

She turned to him, her gaze sharp. "But so what? This level of power is still weak. Perhaps it is enough for rural infighting, but any High-Rank Knight leading a hundred-man Charge Formation could crush your position before you reload! What can you do then?"

Charlo didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out his pistol and asked, "Do you know how long it took to go from making this handgun to making that cannon?"

Clyris paused. "How long?"

"Two and a half years. Less than three."

Charlo asked another question. "Do you know how long I have ruled this territory?"

Before she could speak, he answered forcefully. "Four years! In four years, I built weapons like this from scratch. What do you think will happen if you give me another ten?"

Clyris couldn't answer. She was simply stunned.

How did he do it? Why is the progress so fast?

In the magical world, progress was measured in centuries. A new spell took a lifetime to perfect. A new rank took decades to climb. But here... progress was measured in months.

Looking at the cannons being cleaned by the soldiers, Clyris suddenly asked, "How many can you make?"

"Right now? Ten a month. But in two months, production will ramp up to fifty a month. And they will be brand new models with even greater power!" Charlo replied, his eyes gleaming.

"Even bigger?" Clyris was becoming numb to the shock.

"Yes. This batch of ten is the last of the muzzle-loaders," Charlo explained. "What we produce next will be Breech-Loading Rifled Cannons. 75mm, 125mm, 150mm, and even 200mm! Faster reloading, higher velocity, greater power!"

Clyris fell silent.

If what he said was true... in two months, his weapons could threaten, perhaps even kill, Fifth-Rank entities. And he had achieved this in less than three years.

What about ten years? Would he build weapons capable of killing Seventh-Rankers? Eighth-Rankers? Even Ninth-Rankers?

"So..." Clyris looked into his eyes. His dark pupils didn't waver; they stared straight back at her.

"Why?"

"Hmm?" He tilted his head.

"Why did you propose an alliance with me? You know who I am... surely you had other ways to extricate yourself from that situation in the cottage? You have an army. You have these weapons." Clyris asked softly.

"Ah... well..." Charlo scratched his cheek awkwardly, the mask of the cool Lord slipping for a moment. "Actually, the initial intelligence report said a heavily injured High-Rank Mage had arrived. I came here intending to recruit that mage. I even rehearsed my recruitment speech on the way over! Who knew I'd walk in and find... you."

"So, in your panic, you just edited the speech to fit a Demon Lord?"

Clyris looked at him expressionlessly, feeling a strange twinge of disappointment deep in her heart. So it really was just improvisation to save his life...

"Yes," he admitted without denial. "But I meant it, Miss Clyris."

"What?" Clyris stared at him blankly.

"I was worried before, yes. I was terrified. But seeing you now, seeing your reaction to my city and my weapons... I am serious."

He extended his hand, smiling at her with genuine warmth, the sun catching the silver of his rings.

"Ally with me, Miss Clyris! Let us turn this world upside down."