Another 2 years whipped past me after building Aurelia. Despite how deadly she was with mana-beasts, her inability to penetrate the thick (or mana-enhanced) hide of Champion mana-beasts remained a key issue. For one thing, it pressured me to complete her sister firearm, the M1 Garand knockoff.
I’ve been making remarkable progress on that front, but the lack of Artorian Silver persisted. Unfortunately, my colleagues had been watching me like a hawk these days (trying to come up with any excuse to fire me, I guess). As a result, my chances for embezzling had drastically decreased. Sure, I’d completed the firing pin. But the trigger, hammer spring, and hammer remained out of reach due to the supply shortage.
My prior experiences with Aurelia definitely helped expedite the construction of a M1 Garand imitation. For example, I didn’t need to experiment for an optimal temperature for tempering the spring for my operating rod this time around. Armed with that prior experience, I’ve managed to construct the safety guard, receiver, iron sights, bolt, and the gas cylinder without a hitch.
It took months getting the rifling right via electrochemical machining, but after going through 3 cases of stolen salt (I feel really bad about that, by the way) and dumping enough ferric chloride waste in the nearby stream to warrant an EPA lawsuit, I finally got a functional gun barrel!
My woodworking and tanning skills made a cameo when I made the stock and front hand guard of the rifle. In a funny way, the M1 Garand was an exam of all the skills I’ve picked up in the past 11 years in this world. Sure, it’d be nice if I can use a System to beam me an AK-47. But I felt like I earned this pistol and rifle since I really worked to build them.
The goal today was making ammo. After swapping a few parts, the press I’ve made for the .45 Auto can be used to make the .30-06 Springfields for the Garand. Since I wanted armor-piercing properties, I went with 165 grain (~11 grams) bullets with steel cores and brass jacketing for the Garand knockoff (Sigh, I had to melt down so many bronze coins for the brass jacketing…).
Just like with the .45 Auto handloading process, I poured the dusts (75% fire and 25% air) in the casing, attached the jacketed bullet to the casing, and pressed it into a single cartridge. I‘d successfully made about 40 cartridges housed in the signature en bloc clips (8 cartridges per clip) before calling it a day.
When I returned to Stanfur’s forge-smithy, I noticed that my usually bitter colleagues looked especially gleeful. So something bad must’ve happened. I walked into the office, delivered the sack of requested mana crystals to Stanfur, and asked, “What’s going on?”
Stanfur put down the sack and solemnly replied, “Rummy, I’m afraid to be the bearer of bad tidings. But I regret to inform you that Arminius died yesterday.”
Sigh... Arminius was one of the few good people I liked in this shithole. The tough old bastard has had a long life. I kinda felt bad since I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to my side project. Damn, I should’ve made more effort to hit him up for drinks. He’d done right by me and I’d miss him. Wait. Hang on, why does that excite my coworkers though?
“Do you know what happened?” I asked.
“Bad luck, I’m afraid. He was walking out of a tavern when he accidentally bumped into Ser Paul, who is a Knight for House Bravestorm. Poor Arminius never stood a chance after that...” Stanfur dejectedly answered.
I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my rage. “Thank you for telling me, Expert Stanfur. It’s a damn shame for such a great man to die like this.”
“I know your anger boils, but I must ask you to restrain yourself for all of our sake.” He cautiously warned me. House Bravestorm was no ordinary noble house. They were a subordinate house of House Galahad, and had many famed Knights in their ranks. Plus, they were the primary sponsor for this forge.
“Well, if I had a way to fight them, I would. But sadly, I don’t.” Despite my calm exterior, I felt anger and hatred washing over me, like I was in an endless sewage shower. You know, I was starting to get real sick and tired of this shitty society.
“Not the answer I’m hoping for, but I’ll take it.”
“So why are my colleagues brimming with joy?” I asked with a hostile glare in my eyes.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. They are obvi-”
I rudely cut him off. “Lies. Please try again. What are they happy about?”
A flash of anger coursed through his expression. However, his signature fake smile quickly resumed. “Rummy, our mentor just died. We can discuss business matters at a later time.”
“No need to drag it out, Expert Stanfur. I doubt this bad news could be any worse than what I’ve just heard. Get it over with.”
He let out a long sigh. “Very well. Since Arminius, your backer, has died. I technically have no obligation to keep you on staff. The other forge-smiths have unreasonably demanded that I fire you and reward your salary to them as a bonus or they’ll all find work elsewhere.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
To the surprise of Stanfur, I heartily laughed for a good couple of seconds. “Oh Stanfur, looks like your little scheme finally backfired on you!”
“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I do have a plan around this. I can’t keep you as a forge-smith, but you can stay on as our mana crystal curator! You’ll be doing similar work as what you were doing before, and we’d outsmart these unreasonable fools!” Stanfur made his pitch with his usual charm and confidence.
Well, if things had deteriorated past this point, the time for subtlety had long passed. “Let me get this straight. After your little scheme to use me as your human shield in the forge-smithy backfired when our mentor died, you had to placate the mob by firing me. And your solution to this problem is to have me continue to provide mana crystals at steeply discounted rates so you can still rake in the crowns? How does that benefit me?”
Stanfur panicked a bit. He hadn’t expected a peasant to see through his plan and point it out so blatantly. Undeterred, he put on his best salesman smile and continued his pitch. “Rummy, I understand how upsetting this is. But this is just a temporary measure. I’m sure once everything settles down, you can return as a forge-smith! We just have to get through this tough time together, as a family!”
Wow, pathetic to the end. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll go freelance from now on.”
A stern look gradually replaced the usual fake smile. “Listen Rummy. Our mentor Arminius would not want this. We’re a family. And family members help one another in tough times.”
“Funny how the helping is one-sided. When was the last time you demonstrated a smithing technique to me? 1 winter ago? Did you even take my request to work under you on the Galahad armor seriously?” I scoffed as I turned towards the door. This fucking guy… Well, good thing I had observed him and my colleagues work all these years. <
It was a little sooner than I expected, but I was officially done with this toxic dump.
Stanfur gripped my shoulder harshly and snarled, “Listen you ungrateful peasant! If it weren’t for me and my generosity, you would be starving on the streets or getting mauled by a bear! I can make sure the Forge-smith guild blacklists you so you can’t sell any crystals. I have that power! I’m your only way out of this, so don’t be stupid.” Too bad he didn’t know about my shady tavern-owning friend~
I slapped his hand away, turned around, and bowed. “Well met, Expert Stanfur. My name is Adept Rummy. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the real you. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” I headed towards the door.
As I exited the office, my ex-colleagues all smiled at me. There’s a small part of me that wanted to deck at least one of them. But they were just as much of a victim as I am, really. Why hate on the useful idiots when the one I’d really want to punch was the puppetmaster?
I smiled back at the group and said, “That was a good trick, banding together to force the boss to listen to your demands. I wonder if you can keep doing it to get more crowns outta him or get better working conditions…? Anyways, best of luck, fellas!”
The forge-smiths looked at each other and pondered that possibility. If you want to play the manipulation game, Stanfur, so could I~
***
Well, as satisfying as that was, I was fucked six ways to Sunday since I’d just lost access to my only source of Artorian Silver. Aurelia, by herself, was not enough of a game-changer. And I couldn’t wait for another few years for my next opportunity- to quote a certain poet way before my time, “I can’t grow old in Salem’s Lot.”
Ergo, I had to create an opportunity with my very own hands.
This world has changed me. 11 years ago, the idea of doing what I was about to do would’ve revolted me to my core. Hell, the worst murder I’ve committed back in my previous life was swatting a fruit fly.
But if I had to choose between slowly rotting in peace or prospering through violence in this world, I'd choose violence.
Field Inventory
Primary Weapon
Recurve bow made from Champion mana-beast sinew/Quiver with arrows
Secondary Weapon
2x Short throwing spear
Colt M1911A1 Semi-Automatic Pistol v.1.0 [Christened Aurelia]
Armor
Champion mana-beast leather body armor, bracers, and greaves; Leather boots lined with bear fur
Mana Crystals
1x Adept-level air elemental mana crystal
1x Adept-level fire elemental mana crystal
1x Adept-level earth elemental mana crystal
1x Beginner-level ice elemental mana crystal
Stash of various mana crystals
Misc.
Utility belt, grappling hook, rope, dark green cloak, field satchel, waterskin, rations, boarskin map and steel knife
3x magazines of .45 ACP hollow-point ammo
1x leather holster