Raventa's personal guards had scampered away in neat formation, and Arwin recovered from his initial shock, turning towards Murphy with renewed hope in his eyes. "I’m beginning to get very curious about that other magical device of yours."
Murphy gave a sly chuckle. "Well then, let me get right to it."
Diving back into his bag, Murphy produced an intricately engraved matchlock and a simple target, set up amidst the rubble created by the explosion. He then meticulously loaded the weapon with shot and gunpowder by the book, lit the match cord, and took aim.
"Gentlemen, the target’s back is armored, just so you’re aware," Murphy mentioned with goodwill, and then squeezed the trigger, ready to shock the old-timers of this world with a taste of firearms.
Since smokeless gunpowder was yet to be invented, everyone's first notice upon firing was not the firearm itself, but the cloud of smoke billowing from the barrel’s end.
Arwin, ever the gentleman, waved away the smoke with a magical gust, clearing the air in an instant.
Curious eyes from both the dukes and their guards flickered to the distant target, anticipating...But, curiously, there was no sign of any damage atop the concentric circles painted on the plate armor...
Murphy was the first to notice the newest pit marking the fortification remains behind the armor. Once everybody's search revealed nothing, attention turned to the new dent, and an awkward silence ensued.
"Gentlemen, I kindly ask for another shot," Murphy chortled away the miss as if it were no issue, then proceeded to clean the barrel and reload with practiced ease.
Having learned from his initial misfire, Murphy approached the endeavor with newfound confidence.
"Bang!"
This time, two distinct sounds reverberated—the first as a mini echo of the earlier wall-shattering blast and the second, a telltale clunk of metal on metal.
Once the smoke dissipated, a radiating hole pocked the armor where clear evidence showed something had burst through.
Arwin nodded thoughtfully before ordering, "Erol, give it a try."
"At once, sir." The captain of Arwin's personal guard promptly stepped forward to relieve Murphy of the expected weapon.
Murphy had no objections to this test. As the vendor, he was all about meeting the client's needs to the fullest extent. He patiently demonstrated the firing process to Erol who, sharp as a tack, mimicked it perfectly after just two runs.
As Erol raised the firearm, aiming at the beleaguered metal stand-in, Arwin's hand lowered the muzzle.
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"Aim at me," Arwin declared, striding forward with a tranquil tone.
Witnessing this, Murphy knew the old duke was about to flex his impressive stuff.
Arwin positioned himself before the targeted armor, his stance relaxed, arms dangling naturally. The color drained from Erol's face; his hands shook slightly on the gunstock.
The idea of pointing, let alone firing, at the esteemed duke was tantamount to violence against the very lord he pledged allegiance to.
"Erol, activate the magical device," Arwin's voice commanded, sidestepping the vernacular of 'firing,' still foreign to their vocabulary.
Eventually, primal duty eclipsed the young captain's trepidation. Recalling Murphy's guidance, he trained his aim on the waiting duke and suppressed his breath to steady the trigger pull.
"Bang!"
A puff of smoke burst from the barrel, but this time, no one paid it any mind as it ballooned at its own leisure. Erol's hands still twitched from the recoil as his gaze stayed locked on the figure in the distance.
All eyes, Murphy's included, were fixed on the aging warrior.
Arwin presented his cupped right hand, seemingly slack but not strained. Seconds later, he unfurled his fingers to reveal a round lead ball resting innocently in his palm.
Brilliant! Murphy mentally applauded Arwin's performance. Regardless of how harmless the firearm might have felt to a robust level-eighty-something veteran, that display was exceptionally smooth. Out of ten, Murphy would generously offer an 8.4, simply because the duke's presence alone boasted a 1.6 rating, as the folks back home would say.
Reflecting on it all, Murphy realized almost all acts where he tried to impress in public, exempting times he donned disguises, had fallen flat since arriving in this world.
Was he cursed, perhaps, with some obscure bane known only to a few – doomed to fail whenever he tried to play the hero…?
Shaking off such bizarre thoughts, Murphy turned to Arwin with a smile. "Duke, how did you find the magical device's power?"
After a moment of contemplation, Arwin responded, "It's pretty much as you claimed. For low-level peasant soldiers, it seems to pack the punch of level five. In head-on conflict, perhaps it could injure a combatant up to level fifteen, and with the element of surprise, it might even inconvenience a non-combat profession up to level twenty. Anything higher, and the effect dwindles significantly."
Arwin's balanced assessment aligned with Murphy's own expectations, though he hadn't accounted for the duke considering the element of surprise. Quite the wily fox, indeed.
Murphy made a mental note of the premier vanguard officer’s traits, ensuring no future engagements with him would catch him off guard, blind to the duke's machinations.
Basking in the enviable attention of his peers, Arwin sauntered back to his seat. By now, Raventa had once again wrapped an arm around Murphy's shoulders, his grizzled beard brushing against Murphy’s cheeks, an endearment reminiscent of the "I want everything" Ao Bai from the old films back home.
"Good lad, these are genuine articles, and we've given them a thorough vetting," declared Raventa, a certainty in his eyes mellowing to warmth. "As for the price, I trust you’ll be fair, won’t you? Young man?"
---
As of this chapter, character partial settings are as follows:
Name: Greyrock
Level: 60 (Gargoyle Lord)
Age: 122
Species: Gargoyle
Profession: Rock Armor Warrior
Overview: Well-proportioned figure (among Garoyles), uniformly gray, sharply defined, towering at three meters, has the highest hardness rating in his group, twelve blood-red eyes line his face on both sides, and has an innate fear of fire (a trait of his species).
Abilities Overview: Intermediate-level rock magic: proficient, erratic combat: expert, throwing: expert.
Special Abilities: [Earthshake], [Stone Compendium], [Magma Heart], [Spatial Awareness], [Rock Armor].
A Little Secret: Got lost in an earthquake while digging as a youngster and managed to find his way back to his group after two months alone.