Player 0.4 [You have died.] [Reset in progress.]

"What's with him?" Elda muttered, her nose scrunching as she peered across the shop.

The violet-haired prince of the Daylan Dynasty, Chase Daylan, sat sprawled in one of Lisa's armchairs, tea untouched at his side, a book open in his lap.

However, he wasn't reading it.

Instead, he kept muttering under his breath. Sometimes his face moved, his eyes hidden beneath the reflective shades, with his gaze appearing to drift toward the far wall. He would frown, then smile suddenly as his mouth moved, then frown again—as if he were carrying on a private conversation.

The trouble was, there was no one else near him.

His sister, with whom he had arrived at the shop, was nose deep in her books at the counter.

There aren't even any red mana stone artifacts. None that I can see, at least.

The whole display made her scalp prickle.

"Jarvis," she whispered, tugging her brother's sleeve. "He's talking to himself. He's grinning at that wall as if it told him a funny joke."

Her twin brother glanced up, in time to catch Chase grinning ear to ear, lips moving in a cheerful murmur only he could hear. But then a moment later, his smile faltered into a frown, as though whatever he'd just heard displeased him.

Jarvis shut his book with a finger marking the page.

"Could be hallucinations," he said. "Or some hallucinogen. They're quite popular. And profitable."

Elda frowned, folding her arms. "Shouldn't we be concerned? He might be crazy."

"Concerned? Why?" Jarvis arched a brow at her. "He's a Daylan prince. Whatever it is, he's certain to have access to the best care that money can buy."

"He's one of Luca's friends," Elda said quietly. "Even with the best care, if he's still like that… It's not normal. What if it's something serious?"

"Normal?" Jarvis stared at her. He smiled. "None of Lucas' friends are the least bit normal. There's Duncan Genuiver, who kept calling nobles murderers until he lost his title. Then there's Claude Noire, a friendship unthinkable… Yet here we are."

"And then there's Jasper," Elda muttered, finishing for him. Her face soured.

"And then there's Jasper," Jarvis agreed flatly.

Neither of them needed to elaborate why Jasper was not what constituted 'normal.'

Elda signed, resting her chin in her palm.

Luca finally made some friends outside the Frey household, but why did they all have to be this odd?

"I just wish one of them was… normal," she muttered.

"Normalcy is overrated," Jarvis replied, flipping his book back open. "We ourselves are hardly 'normal.' And if anything, Luca may be the most unordinary of us all."

Elda scowled, unable to disagree with him. Luca had never been ordinary, but ever since nine days ago, he'd been… different.

For three whole months, he had wasted away in bed, barely stepping out of his room, simmering with understandable anger toward Micah. But now it almost seemed as if that time had only been a cocoon, and he had finally emerged free with everything that led up to shutting his door to the world either forgiven or forgotten.

She lowered her gaze to her own book, though her thoughts still lingered on Luca.

The four of them—Elda, Jarvis, Leo, and Fin—had been studying away in Lisa's shop since early morning. Between the curious notebooks Luca had given them and the treasure trove within Lisa's collection that he introduced them to, the children were in a paradise of impossible knowledge. Any subject that might suit one's interest, Lisa was sure to have a book on, including subjects that had no place existing in their realm.

Elda's current curiosity was a manual describing a flying apparatus that could send back a view of distant places in real time. The drawings were full of complicated shapes and squiggly letters in a language she didn't know, powered by some energy that didn't even exist in their world.

However, she was able to decipher it due to Grandov's insight. He had been kind enough to scribble down the translations on a separate piece of paper.

Another one of Luca's odd friends. And far from ordinary.

A slight wrinkle formed between her brows. Grandov wasn't just another of Luca's odd new friends. Luca had known him since the sword tournament a few months back. Their relationship had been somewhat turbulent, though.

She puffed out her cheeks and sighed.

Grandov was, by all accounts, a handsome and highly accomplished officer of The Order. There was nothing unusual about his background, however—just an orphan who worked hard and was well-liked within his community.

And yet… apart from his knowledge of otherworldly languages, he kept dropping the most outrageous toys in her lap. First, the mana gun. Then the long-range rifle. Then, a weapon that could spit out mana bolts faster than she could blink.

She and Leo had already taken them apart and put them back together, using whatever parts they could to obtain similar results. They even had a few messy prototypes ready to be tested.

And once the initial tests are done, I'll have a proper mass production line set up and have our first live tests done on the battlefield.

The thought alone made her wiggle in her chair with excitement.

However, despite the excitement, she stifled a yawn. Reverse engineering and creating all three models for testing within the last week required foregoing sleep. But these new toys were far too exhilarating.

On the chair across from her, Leo yawned too.

Elda smothered a laugh. He was equally enthralled by the project and had likely slept even less than she. He was just as obsessed as Elda regarding the mana guns and other inventions.

It's nice to have a friend my age who actually likes this stuff as much as I do.

Her cheeks warmed, and she glanced at the watch on her wrist. She did a double-take.

"Yikes!" she squeaked, jumping up from the couch. "Leo, we have to go! We're running late!"

Leo's golden eyes flew wide. He snapped his book shut so fast the sound made her jump. His velvety accent spilled smoothly and quickly, like chocolate breaking in half. "What? Already?"

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Yes!" Elda grabbed his hand without hesitation and tugged him toward the door, not sparing so much as a wave to the others. Getting to the awaiting carriage as soon as possible mattered more than any formalities.

But despite the rush, the ride crawled. Every time the driver paused to let a pedestrian cross, it grated against her nerves like a rake dragged across stone. Elda bounced her knees, jittery with both excitement and dread.

"The soldiers won't start without us, right?" Leo asked, his voice tinged with hope.

"I wouldn't count on it," Elda muttered, legs kicking faster.

Grandov had been far too eager to get the soldiers trained with the new weapons.

"Your business?" the guard at The Order's gate asked crisply.

Elda flashed her scroll, gleaming with its VIP mark.

"Go on," the guard said, stepping aside. The carriage rattled forward onto the training grounds.

Since Grandov's rise in influence, security had doubled. The theft of mana stones had left scars on the organization's reputation, and Grandov's solution had been iron-tight inspections and constant vigilance. And now, they had something far more precious to protect.

"I really hope we didn't miss it," Elda said, practically leaping out the moment the carriage halted.

Ahead of them, in the dirt courtyard, soldiers were training in the sword. Half of them were shirtless and covered in sweat as they practiced their sword strokes.

A sign hung, reminding the soldiers of the upcoming yearly sword tournament. Given how most of the soldiers of the Adovorian Kingdom had never seen war, their devout practice was likely to compete with the sword, rather than to improve their killing technique on the battlefield.

Elda smiled seeing them.

And soon enough, sword practice will only ever be utilized as a form of exercise and sport. Blades won't have a place on the battlefield in the face of explosive artillery.

Leo landed beside her, matching her pace. "I'm sure they waited. We'll need to be there to record everything properly."

"I wouldn't count on it," she muttered again, voice sharp.

Why else would he have requested the guns to be delivered ahead of time?

Together, they hurried into the stairwell that led to the underground training ranges.

Down below, the air was cool, and numerous light stones lit up the stone and wooden surroundings. By the time they reached the fourth floor below the surface—

BAM!

Tsk.

I knew it.

"They already started," Elda grumbled.

The two rounded to the bottom of the stairs and arrived at the shooting range. As evidenced by the sacks of potatoes and barrels near the entrance, this place was nothing more than a storage facility until very recently. However, in the last week, Grandov had cleared one half of the room and had the walls all reinforced with black mana stones and complex spells; an absolute necessity against the weapons' volatile blasts that were currently going off.

Flashes of light appeared on the opposite side as the mana guns went off.

Elda inhaled the air and inadvertently smiled. The familiar smell of smoke and metal filled her nostrils.

The scent of progress.

"You're here," Grandov greeted them, his arms crossed.

"You started without us," Elda shot back.

Grandov shrugged. "You were late. But don't worry; I followed your testing proposal. I've set up each gun with a soldier at the numbered booths."

He handed both her and Leo protective glasses and ear coverings.

"Halt the tests," Elda ordered as she slipped hers on. "We need to review the progress first. These are prototypes—you can't just blast away without oversight."

Grandov motioned to another guard, and a loud ring sounded, almost like a shriek. It was impossible to ignore, even with the padded ear muffs all the soldiers were wearing.

The gunfire ceased. Smoke drifted lazily in the silence as Elda strode down the line of booths, her boots tapping against stone like a general inspecting her troops.

Whispers followed her, soldiers muttering about why a child was here. She ignored them. It was a normal reaction.

"For those who haven't met her," Grandov called, his voice carrying through the underground hall, "this is Elda Frey, the inventor of the mana guns you are holding. She will be conducting inspections."

The murmurs rose. Elda couldn't help but smile faintly. It was another normal reaction. Most might not know her face, but they all knew the Frey name.

At the first booth, three soldiers stood at attention beside the smallest models: handheld mana guns. One soldier, clearly the youngest, flushed red as he held out the clipboard for her.

"H-hello," he stammered.

Elda accepted it, and handed it over to Leo to fill out. She felt a bit sorry for her friend. She was taking all the credit when his name ought to have been alongside hers. But keeping his name out was safer. He and his mother were living under false identities in Genise, wanted by the new regime of their homeland. It was safer to keep him out of the spotlight as much as possible for now.

She pulled out a little brass telescope from her pocket and trained it on the straw dummies across the range.

The first doll bore neat little punctures; the second looked scorched, and the third was nonexistent, with only a ball of fire where the dummy ought to have been.

"A-1 makes small, clean holes," she reported. "Accuracy was off. The main target was missed. Weapon fault, or user error?"

"It was my first time using something like this," the young soldier blurted out.

"Of course," Elda said briskly, lowering the telescope. "I'm only stating observations. The point is to make these easier to use, not harder."

"Understood," the soldier replied and lowered his head.

She returned to the dummies. "A-1 is simple and cheapest to produce. But it's not impactful enough."

Her gaze turned to A-2 and A-3 models in the soldier's hands. These two models utilized a larger amount of mana stone powder, the same substances used to heat water, but in their most minuscule form. The result was the fiery explosions that accompanied the bullet hitting its target.

Rather than neat little holes, the bullets exploded out, burning their surroundings.

"Let's focus on A-2's design for the handheld mana gun," Elda decided.

Leo's brow rose. "Not A-3?"

He pointed toward the dummy that had been blasted into bits and was still on fire.

Elda shook her head. "Too much risk in close range, which is what these are intended for. A stray explosion like that could hit our own people."

They moved down the line to the mass-firing mana guns. With larger frames and heavier barrels, these were designed for the battlefield. They could be carried without a stand, but only by someone with the muscle for it.

Elda squinted at the untouched dummies lined up at the far end. "You haven't started with these yet."

She was pleased by this.

The soldiers straightened. "No, ma'am. But we can start now."

"Good." She stepped back. "Begin with B-1."

RAT-TA-TATATATATA!!

The range thundered with rapid fire and flashes of orange light. The targets were shredded apart, straw bursting into clouds of dust. One of the dummies flopped over, severed in half by the impact of the blasts.

Elda let out a low whistle and grinned behind her glasses.

Her green eyes drifted to the remaining prototypes, each promising an even greater blast. The smell of smoke and scorched straw clung to the air. Her pulse thrummed in her ears in excitement.

The future of war is here.

***

"We'll need to redo the test for the long-range mana gun," Leo muttered as they climbed into the carriage.

Elda sat down beside him, leaning over to review the clipboard still in his hand.

"Agreed. We're lucky the whole chamber didn't collapse. We should have gone out to the Desolate Desert instead," she sighed. "We already knew the blast potential."

Her words trailed into a wide yawn. The adrenaline that had kept her awake had faded away all at once, leaving her body heavy. She tipped her head back against the soft seat, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment.

A jolt of the carriage startled her awake again. She blinked, disoriented, but the wheels still clattered steadily beneath them.

I must have knocked out for a second or so.

When she turned, she found Leo asleep against her shoulder. The clipboard was on the verge of falling out of his fingers and onto the floor.

Elda smiled, and carefully she slid it free and set it on the seat beside her.

He must have been just as exhausted as I was.

Leo looked entirely at ease with his head tipped slightly, and his lips parted with a faint snore escaping.

Up close, she noticed details she'd never bothered with before. There were a couple of freckles across his dark cheeks and nose. And his eyelashes were actually quite long, but they had a blonde hue at the tips, like his hair, so she'd never noticed.

Leo's golden eyes suddenly lifted slightly open as the carriage rolled over another bump. He smiled, amused. "Were you staring at me while I was sleeping?"

Heat shot up her cheeks and she scooted away.

"You were snoring," she muttered, turning her face toward the window.

Outside, the streets blurred past. In the window's reflection, she noticed Leo still had a smirk on his face.

Ugh. How embarrassing.

Thankfully, he spared her further embarrassment by picking up the clipboard and launched right back into talk of the mana guns—how the barrels had held, where the mana flow had faltered, and what they could improve based on the live testing data.

Elda listened, her earlier embarrassment fading.

"We'll need to test outdoors next time," Elda chimed in. "In the Desolate Desert. The range is too powerful for underground chambers."

Leo nodded in agreement. "We're lucky the black mana stones held up as well as they did, but had we continued any longer.... But it's a testament to just how incredible these weapons are!"

Elda grinned at his excitement. His eyes always lit up when they talked about inventions, the same way hers did.

It's nice finally having someone who gets it.