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Chapter 37

Harlan pushed his magic-enhanced body as hard as he could, his legs pumping like pistons, but no matter how much effort he put in, he couldn’t catch up to the unexpectedly fast Thomas. The big man moved with an ease and speed that defied his hulking frame, as if the laws of physics had decided to take a break.

“Seems like everybody’s got magic these days,” Harlan muttered under his breath. His [Magic Sight] allowing him to see the strange currents of magic flowing through the silent pugilist’s body. But something about it felt… off. It wasn’t like the magic he and Billy wielded. It pulsed differently but Harlan didn’t have enough experience to figure out why or how. All he knew for sure was that after seeing what Thomas could do, he was damn glad he’d never tried to fight him.

The group quickly covered the distance back to Blackwater, leaving the horde of fire golems and the looming Volcano Titan behind. For the first time in what felt like an age, they had a fleeting, fragile moment of safety. They slipped through an alleyway between two buildings, the familiar sights of the town flickering into view as they emerged onto the main street.

But the scene that greeted them stopped Harlan dead in his tracks.

There, in the middle of the street, was a slight Han man scurrying around with focused energy, tightening bolts and securing the footings of what could only be described as a frankly irresponsible artillery piece. The gun was so absurdly large it looked like it had been ripped off the deck of a battleship and dropped into the middle of town.

Harlan’s jaw dropped.

The cannon had to be at least fifteen feet long, mounted on a hulking siege carriage reinforced with iron-braced wooden frames and massive spoked wheels. The entire thing was chocked into place with heavy beams to stop it from rolling. Sitting beside the monstrosity were equally monstrous shells, each one nearly four feet in length, their noses shimmering with the cool, eerie glow of embedded ice crystals.

“What in tarnation have you done?” Harlan finally managed, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “And who the hell are you?”

Without missing a beat, the slight Han man poked his head out from behind the ridiculous gun and spoke in a thick Prussian accent, as if this were all perfectly normal. “I am Mr. Liu, engineer, among other things. As to what—” he gestured grandly at the cannon, “I have built the largest magical weapon in the world. You have a big monster. You need a big gun. You are welcome.”

Harlan blinked, trying to process the absurdity. “I don’t understand… Why are you doing this? This ain’t your fight.”

“You are correct,” Mr. Liu said, with a slight shrug. “However, Dr. Gardner does not leave. Which means Thomas does not leave. Which means I do not leave. Simple.”

Harlan shook his head with a knowing sigh. “Maggie… of course she’d be too stubborn to leave.” He gave the gun an appraising look. “Well, if this thing works, I’ll be damn grateful for that.”

“Of course it works,” Mr. Liu replied matter-of-factly. “I design and build it myself. It work… or it kill us all.”

“…What?”

“Fifty-fifty,” Mr. Liu said with a shrug. “Hokay! Thomas, if you could please load a shell.”

By this time, Billy had recovered enough to push himself to his feet, though he still looked a bit worse for wear. “Not to slow down this hoedown,” he drawled, eyeing the colossal cannon, “but have any of you fellas actually fired an artillery piece before? Let alone one that looks like it was made to kill the damn moon.”

“The moon is roughly 240,000 miles from Earth,” Mr. Liu replied, adjusting his goggles. “Maximum range of gun is five miles.”

“That is… not my point,” Billy deadpanned. “Firing a gun this size is gonna take more skill than ridin’ a wild bronco bareback. So unless any of y’all have an objection, I think I should probably take the reins.”

Thomas, having read extensively on Billys background, gave Mr. Liu a slight nod, confirming that Billy was the best man for the job.

“Hokay, up to you,” Mr. Liu agreed, stepping back.

“Alright then,” Billy said, rolling his shoulders as he approached the massive cannon. “The other problem we got is that we’re a bit short on manpower. A gun this size usually needs a fifteen-man crew. Just lifting one of those shells is gonna be like haulin’ a horse through mud.”

Without a word, Thomas stepped forward, grabbed one of the several-hundred-pound shells, and effortlessly hoisted it onto his shoulder. He fed it down the barrel with the ease of someone tossing a sack of flour.

“Well… okay then,” Billy muttered, more than a little surprised. “Let’s rustle up some action.”

Billy got to work, his mind snapping into focus as he aimed the barely harnessed cataclysm of a weapon. He sighted the Volcano Titan in the distance, placing it at about three miles out. With no reference artillery tables to draw from, Billy had to rely on his experience, gut instinct, and a little luck to determine the right elevation angle. Thankfully, the Titan was big enough that he had some room for error.

He cranked the elevation screw until the barrel hit 25 degrees. Then, he signalled to Thomas and Harlan, who were standing by with thick ropes attached to the sides of the siege carriage. As Billy dropped his hand, they pulled, slowly inching the gun to the right until Billy was as confident as he could be that they were on target.

Billy fixed the fuse in place and took one last look at the Titan looming in the distance.

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“Alright, everyone find cover!” he shouted, lighting the fuse and sprinting to dive behind an overturned wagon.

The gun roared to life with a deafening crack, a sound like the earth itself splitting open. The air vibrated with the force of the blast, and the ground beneath the siege carriage shuddered and shattered violently. The shell screamed from the barrel, trailing a plume of smoke and frost-tinged magic as it tore through the sky.

The massive iron frame of the siege carriage lurched backward, its wheels grinding against the wooden chocks. The thick ropes strained and creaked, struggling to hold the monstrous weapon in place. But the force was too much. The mount shrieked as the cannon tore free, slamming into the ground with a thunderous crash, kicking up a massive plume of dust.

The gun’s mouth spat out a swirling cloud of grey-black smoke, and the shell’s distant scream echoed across the desert, growing faint as it raced toward the Volcano Titan.

Everyone held their breath.

The shell struck the Titan’s heat shield, seeming to hang there for an agonizing moment. Then, with a blinding flash, it exploded, sending gargantuan shards of ice fanning out from the point of impact.

Billy and Mr. Liu let out simultaneous cheers, their voices rising above the fading echo of the explosion. Even Thomas cracked a rare smile. The assembled men clapped each other on the backs, shaking hands and trading congratulations.

For the first time in a long while, hope flickered in the hearts of defenders of Blackwater.

Not Harlan, though.

While the others were cheering, basking in the fleeting triumph of their apparent victory, Harlan stood frozen, the color drained from his face. [Magic Sight] allowed him to see what the others couldn’t, the truth behind the illusion of success. He had watched the ice shell strike the Titan’s heat shield, but instead of punching through, he saw the Volcano Titan redirect additional magic to the impact site, reinforcing its shield. The shell exploded on contact, but well outside the range needed to harm the monster.

As the dome of ice encased the Titan, the others celebrated.

Not Harlan, though. He could see that the Volcano Titan remained completely unharmed. Its magic flowed, undisturbed and unbothered, as if nothing had happened at all.

When the Titan finally shattered through the ice, sending colossal shards crashing down and obliterating scores of its own fire golems in the process, everyone else was caught off guard.

Not Harlan, though. He had known they’d failed the moment the shell hit. And with that knowledge, he was already ahead of them in feeling the full weight of dread settle over his heart.

The mood shifted immediately. The victorious congratulations stopped cold. The colour drained from every face as the grim reality of their failure set in.

“No, no, no, no, no. How? How is this possible?” Mr. Liu rambled, panic creeping into his voice as he sprinted to the smoking gun, which now lay awkwardly beside its battered carriage.

“It… it channeled more magic into its shield,” Harlan said quietly, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. “The shell couldn’t punch through. It’s too powerful.”

“Channeled magic? Bah! Pesky magic users,” Mr. Liu spat, shaking his head. “This is why asteroid iron was important for the foxes.” He turned to Thomas, who gave a silent nod in agreement.

Billy let out a weary sigh, the last vestiges of his morale slipping away. Only his stubborn will to survive kept him on his feet. “Well, I reckon it’s time we mosey before things turn real sour. If we can’t stop it here, we can at least protect the folks from any stray fire golems.”

The others nodded silently, but no one moved. It was as if staying put could somehow delay the reality of their failure from fully sinking in.

Finally, Thomas took a step forward. He knew his mother, Maggie, wouldn’t leave. And that meant he wouldn’t either, even if it meant dying by her side.

“Wait!” Harlan suddenly shouted, his dejected mind grasping at a last thread of hope. “The… the asteroid iron. Could that help? Could it do… whatever it does to the Titan?”

Mr. Liu paused, turning to the sheriff with a thoughtful frown. “Theoretically…hmmm could disrupt Volcano Titan’s ability to channel magic. Might allow a shell to pierce through the heat shield. But by time we get to the mine and back…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It be too late.”

“No… that’s not necessary. Just wait,” Harlan said, before taking off at a sprint down the street. He kicked open the door to a shop a couple of buildings down. After a tense two minutes, he reappeared, wheeling out a hand cart stacked high with iron ingots.

“Here,” Harlan panted, pushing the cart forward. “Garrett had a bunch left over from your order. Can we do anything with it?”

“I… I do not know,” Mr. Liu admitted, his mind racing as he circled the cart, scratching his chin. “Normally, I cover outside of the shell. But no time for that now. This needs to be at the point of impact on the heat shield. I do not see how we do this and still make for a large enough target.”

He kept pacing, his eyes darting over the ingots. “We could tie together. Make sheet. That give us large enough target. But getting close enough…” He shook his head again. “The heat would burn up anyone before they could get into position.”

“I, uh… I’m completely resistant to fire,” Harlan said, stepping forward. “So that’s not an issue. The problem is—I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry all that, let alone jump high enough to give a proper target. I jump high, but… that’s a lot of weight.”

Thomas considered Harlan for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. Then, without a word, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small vial of glowing silver liquid. He held it up to Mr. Liu and gave a slight motion toward Harlan.

Mr. Liu’s brow furrowed. “Hmmm… This adds uncertainty. The sheriff already has magic of his own. I do not know how the Bìng Zhīyè will… hu dòng—uh, interact.”

Harlan could see the magic radiating from the silver vial. It looked eerily similar to the magic flowing through Thomas. He quickly pieced it together, this was how Thomas had been so strong, so fast.

“If there’s even a chance that taking that’ll help me save this town,” Harlan said, steeling himself, “then I’ll risk it.”

“Hate to put a burr under yer saddle,” Billy interjected, his voice rough but steady, “but that iron ain’t shootin’ from where it lays.”

Thomas rolled his neck with a slow, deliberate motion before walking over to the massive gun. The siege cannon lay awkwardly, the breech buried in the dirt and the barrel resting against the battered carriage. Positioning himself beneath the barrel, Thomas braced it against his shoulder.

At first, nothing happened. Even with his enhanced strength, the cannon seemed too massive to budge. But then, the carriage’s suspension groaned under the shifting weight. Inch by inch, the monstrous gun began to lift. The strain was evident on Thomas’s face, but he didn’t falter. With a final grunt of effort, he hoisted the cannon up enough for it to be aimed, but only while he held it. Dust and debris kicked up as the massive weapon settled back onto its resting place.

Billy let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well… I guess that’ll have to do.”

The men moved quickly, making their final preparations. Mr. Liu bound the asteroid iron ingots together as best he could, creating a rough, makeshift sheet. Thomas and Billy stood ready by the gun, while Harlan gripped the small vial of silver liquid tightly in his hand.

Just as Harlan raised the vial to his lips, Mr. Liu called out, his voice unusually serious. “A warning, Sheriff. If you do not get clear of the explosion… it will likely kill you.”

Harlan’s heart beat faster as realized how similar this was to the sacrifice his brother made for his town.