"That's the last of them, Deputy General," Adam said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His exhaustion was evident—unsurprising, given that they had barely slept in the past nine days.

Before them lay over a hundred clay balls, each packed with gunpowder and metal fragments. The holes had been sealed with wax, with oil-soaked fuses protruding from each one. They were crude, primitive even, but deadly all the same.

"I would have liked more," Luke admitted, arms crossed as he surveyed their work. "But this should be enough to achieve our purpose."

It was a small miracle they had managed to make this many. Ingredients like saltpeter and sulfur weren’t exactly common—mostly used in tonics and textile dyeing—yet they had scraped together just enough.

Beyond the grenades, there was also a stockpile of empty clay casings. On their own, they were worthless. But as decoys? Luke suspected they would prove invaluable in the battle to come.

However, the true crown jewels of their effort were the fifteen bronze and iron-cast grenades. These would be the real game-changers, far more destructive than their clay counterparts.

"Load these onto the wagon," Luke ordered. "Be careful—one wrong move, and you might lose a hand."

With that, he turned and stepped out of the building—the same building he’d been cooped up in for over a week.

The moment he stepped outside, a wave of fatigue crashed over him. His body felt sluggish, his mind dulled by the lack of rest. But he couldn’t afford to give in now. The battle was looming, and the weapons would be useless without a proper strategy to deploy them.

Luke tilted his head skyward. The sun had already begun its descent.

No time to waste.

He set off toward the City Lord’s estate, intent on calling for a strategy meeting. However, when he arrived, he found the meeting had already begun without him.

Inside the hall, several familiar figures were gathered around a table. Kayson, Viscount Diego, Master Boyd, Minister Chao, and a handful of smaller commanders were already deep in discussion.

"Deputy General, we were just about to send for you," the City Lord said, his sharp features betraying a flicker of surprise. "Please, take a seat."

Luke gave a slight bow before complying. As he did, his eyes met Kayson’s. The man gave him a small nod and a tired smile. Stubble shadowed his usually well-groomed face, but even in his fatigued state, he remained effortlessly handsome.

Luke then turned his attention to Minister Chao. The man was noticeably paler than when he’d last seen him. In fact, he looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Luke smirked inwardly. If Chao had truly believed the Lhair army was coming, he would have fled Clayton City without a second thought. But now, he was stuck here with the rest of them.

That alone was mildly satisfying.

Still, Luke knew the Minister was a burden more than anything. He held no value in the city’s defense—only in politics and self-preservation.

The City Lord’s voice drew him back to the present.

"How is the development of your new weapon progressing?"

His tone was neutral, unreadable. Clearly, he wasn’t holding out much hope for gunpowder’s viability. Luke didn’t blame him. To these people, such a weapon was beyond comprehension—something that couldn’t be believed until they saw it with their own eyes.

"My Lord, we have completed over a hundred grenades using the combustible compound I created," Luke reported, bowing slightly.

"Grenades?" The City Lord raised a brow. "This is the name you’ve given this weapon?"

Only then did Luke realize his mistake. Many words from his previous life were rooted in Latin, and to the people of this world, "grenade" likely sounded foreign and unnatural.

"Apologies, my Lord," he said smoothly. "Now that I’ve said it aloud, I realize it may not be the most fitting name. Perhaps 'Thunder Bomb' would be better received."

The name had an air of power to it—intimidating, destructive. More importantly, if these weapons proved effective in battle, the name Thunder Bomb would echo across the continent, a deterrent against future wars with the Marxx Kingdom.

Murmurs rippled through the room, the weight of the name settling over the gathered commanders.

"Would you care to explain what exactly these ‘Thunder Bombs’ do?" Minister Chao’s whiny voice cut through the discussion. This time, however, there was no derision in his tone.

‘He’s finally realized his life depends on these weapons,’ Luke mused.

Rather than bogging the room down with unnecessary details, Luke decided to be direct. He had come prepared for this moment, bringing an empty clay grenade for demonstration.

"The explosive compound is inserted through this hole into the empty cavity," Luke explained, holding up the hollow sphere for all to see. "Along with sharp metal fragments. An oil-soaked rope is then placed inside before sealing the opening with wax. Once ignited, the rope will burn down, igniting the compound and triggering an explosion. The force will propel the metal fragments outward at high speeds—killing and maiming anyone within range."

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Silence settled over the room.

It was Minister Chao who spoke first. "Forgive my ignorance," he began, his tone dripping with feigned humility.

Luke smirked. ‘Here it comes.’

"That is quite all right, Minister," Luke cut in smoothly. "By now, most of us have grown accustomed to your ignorance. Please, continue."

A few muffled chuckles broke the tense silence. The Minister’s face flushed an angry red. For a moment, Luke thought the man might lash out, but to his mild surprise, he managed to restrain himself.

With forced composure, Chao pressed on. "From my understanding, a flame requires air to burn. I highly doubt such a small container would hold enough for the flame to take." His sharp gaze locked onto Luke’s, seeking any sign of uncertainty.

From the shifting in the room, it was clear his words had struck a chord with those present.

Luke merely smiled. "You are quite right, Minister."

A flicker of surprise passed over Chao’s face, as if he hadn’t expected Luke to agree.

"In your knowledge," Luke continued, "a flame requires air. But what you do not realize is that it is not air that sustains a fire—it is a particular part of the air, a property that exists within it."

His explanation was vague, deliberately so. This world had no concept of chemistry. If he tried to explain oxidation or chemical reactions, he would only lose them. Instead, he needed something they could grasp.

"One of the properties of this new compound allows the flame to burn without needing air," Luke said simply.

There was a pause. A few commanders exchanged wary glances, but no one spoke. They had no way of disproving what he said—nor did they fully understand it. But in war, results mattered more than reasoning.

"You have tested this?" The City Lord’s voice cut through the tension. Unlike Chao, he wasn’t questioning out of skepticism—his tone was measured, calculating.

Luke’s expression froze. In truth, he hadn’t tested the grenades—not for lack of desire, but for practical reasons. Detonating an explosive inside the city was too dangerous, and doing so outside the walls would only alert the enemy.

Still, uncertainty was not an option.

"In truth, my Lord, I have yet to test them," Luke admitted, bowing slightly. "But I can say with certainty that they will work as intended."

He hoped his conviction would carry weight.

Minister Chao let out a derisive laugh. "With all due respect, Deputy General, I don’t think we can afford to take your word for it." His tone dripped with skepticism. "We cannot place our hopes on mere assurances. Many lives are at stake."

‘This bastard…’

Before Luke could respond, the sharp crack of wood rang through the hall as Kayson slammed his palm against the table, rising to his feet. His expression was stormy, barely restrained fury in his eyes.

"The only reason we even have a chance against the Lhair is because of this man!" He pointed at Luke, voice firm with conviction. "If there’s anyone’s word I would trust unconditionally, it’s Luke Drakon’s."

Minister Chao’s face darkened, his usual arrogance faltering in the face of such open support.

"He is right," Master Boyd’s deep voice cut through the tension like a heavy blade. "I trust the Deputy General. If he says these weapons will work, then they will work."

"General, you can’t be serious!" Chao spluttered, his earlier bravado returning. "These Thunder Bombs sound impressive in theory, but can this man truly create such a dangerous weapon in only nine days?" He scoffed. "If it were so easy, why was it not invented before? Why has no royal alchemist accomplished such a feat? Luke doesn’t even have a background in alchemy—he’s a mere commoner, for gods’ sake!"

A heavy silence followed.

Then—

"That is enough."

Viscount Diego’s voice was low, measured, but laced with an unmistakable warning.

The room stilled.

His gaze turned to the Minister, filled with something cold and violent. For a fleeting moment, Luke thought the City Lord might actually draw his sword and cut Chao down where he sat.

The Minister must have sensed it too. His face drained of color, and he all but shrank into his chair, suddenly far meeker than before.

"I will not tell you again, Minister Chao," Diego continued, his voice like distant thunder. "You are here as the King’s eyes and ears—nothing more. Leave the matters of war to those qualified to handle them."

Chao swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, City Lord," he mumbled, his earlier bravado crumbling under the weight of the threat.

If this weren’t wartime, Luke had no doubt the Minister would have tried to flaunt his position over them all. But here? Now? He knew better.

The City Lord exhaled sharply before turning to Luke, his gaze scrutinizing. "While it’s hard to believe that you were able to develop such a powerful weapon in little more than a week, Deputy General Drakon…" he paused, then inclined his head slightly. "Your previous achievements—and my wishful thinking—lead me to believe you speak the truth."

His gaze swept across the room.

"It is my recommendation that we use these Thunder Bombs as a pivotal part of our strategy for the upcoming battle. Are we in agreement?"

“Yes, my Lord.”

The room echoed with affirmations as those present voiced their agreement. Only Minister Chao remained silent, but the City Lord did not acknowledge him. Instead, he turned directly to Luke.

"You are the creator of these weapons," he said. "How do you believe we should best utilize them in our battle strategy?"

Luke exhaled slightly, relieved. While he could dismiss the Minister’s objections, the support of General Boyd and the City Lord was crucial. Now that he had their approval, he could move forward without unnecessary resistance.

With that in mind, he began laying out his strategy.

For the next hour, Luke detailed his plan, outlining how the Thunder Bombs could be integrated into their defenses and offensive maneuvers. He explained their range, their explosive power, and the best ways to deploy them against the enemy forces. The others listened intently, occasionally asking questions, but in the end, his recommendations were agreed upon by those who mattered.

When the meeting concluded, Luke left the hall alongside Kayson, making his way back to the guest room.

His body felt heavier with every step. Nine days of relentless work, little sleep, and constant pressure were finally catching up to him. By the time he sank onto the lounge, it took everything he had not to immediately pass out.

Kayson, however, was still full of energy. He picked up one of the decoy grenades from the table, rolling it in his palm as he inspected it closely.

"How confident are you about these weapons?" he asked.

Luke ran a hand over his face, massaging his temples. "In all honesty? About 80%."

The gunpowder itself was solid—he had no doubts there. The issue lay in the containers and the ratio of metal fragments. Without proper molds, uniformity was impossible. If even one grenade wasn’t sealed properly, its explosive effect would be significantly reduced, turning it into little more than a glorified rock.

But considering he had only ten days to work with, the fact that he had produced so many was a testament to his tenacity.

Kayson hummed in thought. "That’s higher than I expected," he admitted with a grin.

Luke blinked. "Huh? And yet you still stood up for me back there?"

Kayson shrugged, his smirk widening. "If anything, I just wanted an excuse to yell at that bastard."

Luke let out a tired laugh, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He knew Kayson was joking, but beneath his words, Luke could feel his unwavering trust.

And somehow, that made the weight on his shoulders feel just a little lighter.