“Boy, I’ve heard many strange and stupid things in my life, and trust me, I’ve been around for a while, but this, what you’ve just told me, is the apex of stupidity.”
That was more or less what Sigmund told Liam when he tried to broach the subject of his desire to create a gun, which he’d described as a ‘very powerful crossbow’, capable of shooting indefinitely.
“But then again, the best things ever crafted were made by madmen, so do go in more detail, I’m all ears,” he motioned for Liam to keep speaking, one of his hands pointing at his head, which had a glaring lack of ears.
“Well, for starters, it would be much smaller than an actual crossbow to make it more portable; afterwards, I’d have to figure out a way for it to actually shoot indefinitely. Maybe we could find a way to make the bolt come back? Or would it be more convenient for it to be directly teleported to the crossbowman? That’s the main problem I think.”
Sigmund nodded and kept on cooking in front of the stove. He was still wearing that horrendously protective cooking equipment, composed of a thick leather apron with inscribed [Chill] runes in the padding (so as not to boil alive in the most probably hot get-up), safety glass goggles and a mask of thick fibers that muffled his voice.
“Well, I say, you’re asking the wrong questions boy. Don’t think about ‘bringing the ammunition back’, that’s something for another time. Rather, you should ask yourself: ‘where would I store the ammunition?’ Because, the way I see it, no matter what you try, it’ll always take time to get the bolts back, and if you want to create a crossbow that shoots indefinitely, arming it with a single bolt that moves back and forth is arguably worse than a normal crossbow that you have to reload manually.
“So tell me: where do you intend to store the bolts? And how do you intend to make them move into the right position for the crossbowman to be able to shoot them. And that is if we’re taking into consideration the fact that it is the crossbowman putting the string back in place.”
And suddenly there were a lot more problems than Liam had imagined. Not that he’d thought it would be easy, let’s be clear, but now that Sigmund had made him notice, he could see so many logistical problems.
“I… have no idea,” he told him the truth.
The lizardman shrugged, turning his head slightly towards him: “Well, I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d said anything else, seeing how the idea came to you last night under the effects of a pendant that scrambles your head.”
Liam chuckled: “Is this a very convoluted way of telling me what I’m imagining is impossible?”
This time Sigmund turned fully towards him, back to the cooking food, which seemed like a recipe for disaster, but then again, apparently his very existence seemed to counterbalance Rodar’s general misfortune, so maybe it would be alright.
“I’m saying, Liam, that you haven’t planned this through.”
He stopped, hesitating a moment, before he added: “And yes, sadly, I’m saying that it is impossible. Maybe, in ages past, there existed a [Mage Crafter] of such an outrageously high Level that he could’ve crafted, with great difficulty, something like what you described. But as things are now, heh, I’m afraid there’s no one in all the world who could do it. It would be nearly completely impossible for me, and it is most certainly impossible for you.”
Liam deflated at that. It was obvious: this wasn’t your typical isekai story where the protagonist received some impossibly overpowered cheat Skill or Class that broke the System. Oh sure, he’d gotten lucky with his [Mage Crafter] Class, getting it without having to go through all the hassle of consolidating two Classes at a much higher Level than him, but he’d still had to start from Level 1. It was obvious that creating something akin to perpetual motion wouldn’t be as easy as just casting a Spell. Physics were still a thing.
“That said, who am I to stop you from trying? I thought what you were doing out there in the back with the cow shit was stupid, and now you’re making money out of it. So I say, try. Challenges are the means by which we Level, and what’s more challenging than trying to do something impossible? When the world’s greatest [Engineers] started working on the first airship everyone thought they would fail, that it was impossible, and now look at us: able to fly around the skies like any birdkin and batkin and harpy. Well, at a big cost for your purse.
“You see what I mean?”
Liam nodded his head slowly, but Sigmund could clearly see there was still some doubt left in his eyes.
“Tell you what: you’ll keep working under me, as always, but I’ll also allow you to use my laboratory to work on this little project of yours. I’ll even help fund some of it.”
“But why?”
“Because I can see this is something you want to do. Because, as I said, it’s through challenges that we can grow greater. And who knows: maybe you’ll find a way to do this. Also, because I find the idea intriguing.”
Liam had to chuckle at that: “Intriguing, eh? Not because you could get a lot of money out of it?”
Sigmund scoffed: “I have all the money I could ever want boy. I don’t need more. I only need more reasons to keep living.”
Liam grimaced: “Ok, that came out very wrong.”
“My daughter says that I sound suicidal when I say things like that. Never was, never will be, but I can understand the sentiment behind the thoughts. Still, it is true: the days when I lived to make money and money alone are long gone. Now I only seek purpose. Something everyone should always look out for.”
Liam frowned at that: “Wait, so the shop isn’t your purpose? Or creating things in your laboratory?”
Sigmund smiled slightly, a sad little movement of his lips that didn’t reach his eyes, and for a moment Liam could see his years weighing him down, the tiredness behind his eyes, the scars both seen and unseen. And then it was all gone, all hidden behind that sad smile: “Those were never a purpose, Liam. Just a job. Sure, a job I loved, still love, but not a purpose. That… that is my family. What’s left of it. If I can help my daughter in any way, I will. If I can make her enchanted rings to keep her safe, give her magic artifacts to use in battle, or keep her room clean for when she comes back to rest from these senseless wars, then I will do it, because she is all that’s really left to me.”
Liam stared at Sigmund with a ‘I understand’ look, making the lizardkin [Crafter] nod back in thanks.
Then he sniffed and caught the scent of something burning: “Sigmund, the food is burning.”
The man’s eyes widened a moment, then he sighed and turned around, looking at the now brown and black scrambled eggs with smoke coming in slow swirls out of their center: “I hope you liked them crispy.”
Then they caught on fire.
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After Sigmund put out the fire… with a bag of sand he apparently kept near the oven ‘just in case’, and cooked another batch of eggs, this time without tearing his eyes off of them, they got down to the laboratory and began teaching and learning.
And for the rest of the afternoon Liam put the idea of his eternally shooting gun out of his mind.
It came back to him only in the evening, when someone unexpected came knocking at the door that led to the house-side of the building.
Liam went to check and, when he opened, found himself face to neck with someone wearing pristine armor. Looking up, his eyes met Amarie’s gorgeous green orbs. For some reason, he felt like blushing, but he luckily managed to keep himself in check.
“Hello [Knight Commander],” he said with a cheerful smile.
The woman chuckled: “Please Liam, don’t you begin ‘Knight Commander’ me. I already get enough of that in the fields.”
“Alright then. Come on in, welcome home, I’m sure your dad will be happy to see you.”
“I’m sure he will, but today I’m not alone: I’ve brought along someone who’s something of a fan of yours.”
Liam’s brows furrowed as he looked behind Amarie where, sure enough, someone was standing, or rather, fidgeting. It took Liam a moment to recognize her, but when he did he couldn’t contain himself: “Dame Giulia?”
The woman looked up from her hands, which she’d been looking at this whole time, and smiled her usual bright smile that made up for her general silence. Liam had wondered for a while if she suffered from selective mutism, but then just decided it wasn’t his problem.
She waved hello and he waved back: “Hello Dame Giulia. How are you doing? Why are you here?”
Again, she smiled, pointing at him, as if that could answer everything.
Instead, Amarie explained it in her place: “Giulia wanted to meet you. She’s the fan I just told you about.”
Again, Liam cocked an eyebrow: “A fan? Fan of what? I presume not my good looks.”
Giulia shook her head and made an exaggerated disgusted face, before a trilling chuckle escaped her lips, like what you’d expect Trilli in Peter Pan to make.
For an answer Liam put a hand to his chest and acted as if she’d just shot him through the heart, falling to his knees and making a scene, causing another chuckle to get out of Giulia’s lips. Never let it be said that he wasn’t good at turning anything not-serious into an even funnier spectacle.
Amarie sighed: “For once I had hoped my father’s horrible sense of humor wouldn’t infect someone. I am thrice the fool.”
And at that Liam laughed out loud and got back up to his feet: “This isn’t your father’s fault. Well, not completely. He just helped me acclimate to this place. What you’re seeing is all me.”
Amarie snorted, but he could clearly see her smile.
“Hoy! Liam! Who’s at the door?”
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The woman looked up the stairs and shouted: “It’s me dad! I’m back!”
A chair scraped against the floor, followed by the rapid scrabbling of scaly feet against wood, before Sigmund’s shadow obscured the light coming from above as he appeared at the top of the stairwell, smiling like a madman. Luckily he didn’t decide to jump down the stairs towards his daughter; instead, he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as, with a smile in his eyes and his voice, he said: “The prodigal child returns! You could’ve written home that you were coming back. Was expecting you to be there with Tibur when he came here yesterday.”
His daughter shrugged: “I had to stay behind for a bit to help solve a minor problem. Now I’m here. But if you don’t wa -”
“Come give your pa a hug, you dumbass knightley daughter,” he interrupted her with an even bigger smile, opening his arms wide.
Amarie chuckled and went up the stairs, passing by Liam, giving her lizardly father as big a hug as she could and, possibly, leaving some bruises here and there because she was still wearing armor. It was as they were standing there that Sigmund noticed his daughter’s guest.
He raised a scaly eyebrow, confusion and then recognition in his eyes, before he extricated himself from his daughter’s hug and walked down the stairs.
“Dame Giulia,” he welcomed her, bowing slightly once he got down, “It is a pleasure to see you again. Come back to get another defective Wand of Fireball?”
Immediately the girl’s eyes lit up with desire and childish wonder as, for the first time, she said something: “You have another?”
Followed immediately behind by a: “Defective Wand of Fireball?” by Liam.
The lizardman laughed and motioned for both of them to follow him up: “Yes, a defective Wand of Fireball. It was what? Five years ago? Something like that. Anyways, this young woman entered my shop: she was still a [Squire] at the time, and was looking for some new gear since she was to be knighted soon. So here she comes, and you know how my shop is: dark little place where my inventory regularly scrambles itself and it’s more the items that find the buyer than the other way ‘round. Well, this woman here, she walked in, and the first thing she found not even two minutes in was this little wand of fireball I had completely forgotten I’d crafted. Was meant to be a wand capable of casting a fireball a day, with automatic recharge and all. Not too powerful, but still very useful in a pinch.
“So she brings it to me, asks how much it costs, I go looking for the price because, again, I’d completely forgotten I had it and didn’t remember what they normally cost, and while I’m looking I find out I didn’t remember about the wand because I had thrown it away: it was defective. That was when I discovered that my [Inventory Reshuffle] Skill didn’t care if something was or was not acceptable to sell: if it’s in the shop and it was made, even as an attempt, to be sold, you can only get rid of it by throwing it outside. The trash bin isn’t enough. So I go up there to tell her that the wand isn’t on sale, that it’s damaged, that it could kill her.
“And do you know what this young lady said? She said ‘Does that mean it costs less?’ Now, I don’t remember how, especially because half the time she said absolutely nothing, but she managed to convince me to sell it. Luckily for her the wand didn’t explode on use: instead, well…”
He looked back at Giulia as he sat down on a chair by the table, an eyebrow raised, as if asking if she wanted him to tell them. Or maybe he was trying to tell her to tell them this herself. As an answer, the woman shrugged and motioned him on.
“Apparently the Spell I had imprinted on the wand had been… corrupted, yes, that’s the word, by impurities in the wand’s core. The end result was that every time someone cast the Spell a ball of fire would appear and fall to the ground.”
A moment of stupefied silence later, Liam asked: “Wait, a ball? As in, an actual ball? One you could kick and everything?”
Giulia nodded and Sigmund chuckled: “Precisely. And the flames didn’t even actually burn! I think we spent fifteen minutes out in the street just kicking the ball at each other while people screamed at us to stop, fearing that we would burn each other. It was the funniest incident in my life.”
And they began laughing.
After a while of this they stopped and he asked Giulia: “Do you still have it with you?”
For an answer the Dame rummaged around inside her pouch of holding (not a bag, a pouch this time. Smaller, more economic) and took out a small wooden wand. Truth be told, it didn’t look like much: just a levigated piece of wood no longer than thirty centimeters, smooth and white with flecks of black here and there, as if someone had painted it with ashes.
She then put it back in.
“Yep, that’s it alright. Keep it well Giulia, I want that wand to outlive me.”
She nodded.
And then began staring at Liam who, unperturbed, stared right back at her, because if someone stares at you you have the moral obligation to do the same.
“So,” continued Amarie, “After you’re done with the staring contest, which, by the way Liam, Dame Giulia is going to win, we can talk about why she wanted to meet you so much.”
“Amarie, I’m using my eyes, not my ears. I can listen and stare at the same time.”
She shrugged, then, because they weren’t looking at her, sighed despondently, wondering why in the world she’d fa -
She stopped that train of thought right there and concentrated back on the conversation.
“You know the black powder you’ve been supplying to the army? Well, us knights are issued some of it every battle. And Giulia here has fallen completely in love with the damn stuff. To the point where she goes to the other knights and begs them to give their black powder to her that she may use it in battle.”
Liam blinked and looked up at Amarie (losing the staring contest), before going back to Giulia, who was nodding energetically and smiling like a madwoman, a glint of pure glee in her eyes.
“She convinced me to bring her to the creator, you, in exchange for not keeping the word she’d apparently given to the First Dealmaker about burning down a forest if we came back to the capital without incident.”
Everyone turned to stare at Giulia, some with surprise, others (Amarie) with a glare, others still with pride on their face (Sigmund).
After a moment, Giulia said: “In my defense, we never get a calm journey home.”
“There’s no defense Giulia! Who in their right mind would promise to burn down a forest?”
Giulia opened her mouth as if to answer, closed it, shrugged, then lifted her hand up in the air.
Amarie sighed resignedly: “Yes. You. Please never do something like that.”
A few minutes later Giulia walked out of the shop with a bomb autographed by Liam, humming a little tune that made her sound extremely ominous to anyone who passed by her, especially because of the cheshire-smile stretching on her face from ear to ear.
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That night, as they dined, Sigmund asked Liam: “So, any new ideas for how to make that crossbow of yours?”
The young man looked up from his plate into the lizardman’s eyes, uncertainty clearly visible on his face.
Then Amarie joined the conversation: “Crossbow? What crossbow?”
Liam hesitated, but then shrugged, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to tell her: “Last night I got an idea about making a crossbow capable of shooting indefinitely with no need for the wielder to recharge it.”
“Hmpf, seems interesting. And complex.”
Both Liam and Sigmund chuckled: “You wouldn’t believe it,” they said in chorus, then looking at each other and high fiving.
After they calmed down, Liam went back to explaining: “There are… quite a lot of problems to solve in case I decided to start working on it: where should I store the ammunition? How should I make the ammunition itself, well, endless? And even, what’s the best way to shoot it? If I’m going to create something that powerful I may as well reduce the time it takes to shoot it, am I right?”
Amarie appeared thoughtful for a moment, before she nodded: “Yes, you are right. It sounds complex. Although, if I may, if you don’t want to use a string as a means to shoot a bolt from a crossbow, then you could try to use that black powder of yours.”
Luckily for everyone at the table Liam hadn’t been drinking anything, otherwise someone could’ve ended up completely drenched as he violently expelled the liquid out. Had Amarie just invented the concept of a gun in this world? Fucking hell no.
He turned to look at Sigmund, but for once the man wasn’t smiling, instead looking attentively at him, as if waiting for some particular reaction.
Finally, he spoke: “Yeah… that doesn’t sound convenient to me. Sure, it could work, but then I would have to think of a way to supply the necessary black powder. It’s not an endlessly shooting crossbow if I have to actively remember to give it something to help it shoot, am I right?”
He was not going to give guns to this world. Not now, not ever. He had already seen enough of what those could do back on Earth.
“Hmm… to me it seems like you’re trying to find excuses on that front, but then again, I’m no expert,” she let go of the subject.
The rest of the dinner was spent chatting about nonsense and funny things that had happened to Amarie and her group of [Knights], like Sir Pollion getting so drunk after a battle that he’d fallen inside the latrine when trying to answer mother nature’s call.
Finally she left to go to sleep (the woman was an early sleeper, that was for sure), and he was left alone with Sigmund.
“So,” started the lizardman, “It would be inconvenient, eh?” he asked. Liam already knew what he was talking about. He understood, in that moment, that Sigmund had seen through him and that, possibly, he’d already seen the gunpowder as a means to help achieve his impossible objective.
“Yes,” he still answered, hoping that he was wrong.
“Don’t bullshit me boy, I’m way older and more experienced than you.”
Liam sighed. So the truth it was: “Yes, I knew. Did you?”
The lizardman nodded: “I’m an expert in my field boy, I got the idea of using the black powder to shoot out projectiles the moment I saw it in action.”
“But you didn’t do anything about it. Why?”
“I could ask you the same question. Tell me, why did you try to deflect when my daughter brought up the concept?”
Liam hesitated. Again, it would’ve been so much easier and, at the same time, difficult, to just tell him about Earth and everything there. But, again, he didn’t trust anyone with the information. Or rather, he feared what people would do: would they call him crazy and lock him up somewhere? Or would they believe him and force him to make things from Earth? Things like weapons. No, better to stay silent.
“I don’t like the idea of giving people a new way to kill each other.”
Sigmund nodded and, finally, smiled again: “Same here, boy. Same here. Let them kill each other with swords and spears and bolts. They’re enough for their purposes.”
Liam nodded, then wavered, doubt filling his mind, and he couldn’t do anything but ask: “Sigmund, if you knew about all of this, then why would you allow me to even think about crafting my project? Wouldn’t I be starting something?”
Sigmund laughed at that, an open belly laugh that was probably heard in nearby houses. And then he answered: “Liam, if, and that’s a big if, you’ll ever manage to create that weapon, what, you think other people will manage to copy it that easily? It would probably become an artifact, or even a Relic. So no, I have no fear of anything happening on that front. Well, except someone stealing the thing from you, but then again, that can happen with anything.”
Liam nodded, slightly reassured.
“Now, hop away to bed. Just because now you have a fan club doesn’t mean you get to slack at work. Tomorrow will be a hard day.”
Liam chuckled: “Aren’t they all?”
“Yes, but who knows? Maybe one day you’ll get lucky and it won’t be.”
They both chuckled at the horrible joke.
And then Liam went to his room.
He changed into his night clothes.
Took out the pendant that numbed his mind enough to lock out the nightmares of that battlefield, putting it on.
And promptly stumbled and fell towards the ground, faceplanting on it, his nose beginning immediately to throb painfully, blood roaring in his ears.
“Fuck!” he slurred like a drunkard, propping himself up, his hands going to his nose to check if it was bleeding. Luckily, it was not.
“Fucking continent of misfortune. Fuck… fuck!”
Yeah, the english language did not have enough swears for how he felt.
Finally, he laid down into bed, closing his eyes. He did not notice the fact that his mind was ever so slowly becoming more lucid. Nor did he notice the thin crack that had formed in the gem tied around his neck.
He may have been generally lucky on this continent, but even then, there was a limit to how much his Class could protect him from the land’s curse. And, when it wasn’t enough, the backlash was even more terrifying than normal.
So it was that, when next Liam opened his eyes, it wasn’t in his room, but back on that battlefield.
A distant, headless, knight, began walking towards him with a purpose.