Chapter 98: Training
After leaving the manor, I headed directly toward the industrial district.
Silvia followed closely behind me the entire way and the further we traveled, the wider her eyes became.
The district had changed a fair bit since the last time I had seen it.
Smoke rose from dozens of chimneys.
The distant pounding of hammers echoed continuously through the air.
Steam hissed from pipes running between workshops while workers pushed carts loaded with steel, lumber, coal, and machinery across the roads.
Entire rows of new buildings stretched across land that had once been empty fields.
For someone seeing it for the first time, it probably looked overwhelming.
Silvia eventually grabbed my sleeve.
"What is all this?"
I smiled slightly.
"Work."
She looked around again.
"There is way too much work."
I couldn’t really argue with that.
Eventually we reached the central workshop area where I immediately spotted Finn, he was standing atop a stack of crates while shouting instructions toward a group of workers unloading steel beams.
"Move those to Foundry Three!"
A worker pointed elsewhere.
"What about those?"
"Them too!"
Another worker raised a hand.
"What about—"
"No!"
The worker looked confused.
"But I didn’t—"
"I know! Just no!"
The workers dispersed.
Finn finally noticed us approaching.
His eyes immediately landed on Silvia.
Then on me.
Then back on Silvia.
"Leon."
"Finn."
He pointed.
"Who is the child?"
I smiled.
"We found our next big project."
Finn’s eyes immediately lit up.
"My boredom seems to have been cured."
I laughed.
"That bad?"
"I was considering reorganizing bolts by size."
I paused.
"That’s pretty bad."
"Exactly."
Finn hopped down from the crates and immediately joined us.
"Alright."
He pointed at Silvia.
"Explain."
————————
A short while later, the three of us sat inside my workshop.
Papers covered most of the main workbench while various machine parts occupied every remaining free surface.
Silvia sat on top of one of the tables swinging her legs while occasionally staring at random pieces of machinery.
Meanwhile I explained everything.
The slave traders.
The Wild Lands.
The oil, especially the oil.
By the time I finished, Finn had become considerably more interested.
"So this oil stuff."
He leaned back.
"Why exactly do we care?"
Instead of answering directly, I grabbed several sheets of paper and spread them across the workbench.
Finn looked down.
Then his eyebrows rose.
The sketch showed a much more complicated machine than most of my previous designs.
Pistons.
Valves.
Connecting rods.
Crankshafts.
Fuel and ignition systems.
Finn stared for several moments and then looked back up.
"What is it?"
I pointed toward the center.
"A combustion engine."
His expression immediately became interested.
I began explaining.
"First we refine petrol from the crude oil."
Finn nodded.
"Then the fuel gets injected into a combustion chamber."
I pointed at the piston.
"The piston compresses—"
"The fuel-air mixture."
I blinked.
Finn smirked.
"The chamber gets smaller as the crank shaft rotates."
He pointed toward the drawing.
"Compression increases."
Then another point.
"Spark ignition."
Then another.
"Explosion."
Then another.
"Piston moves downward."
Then another.
"Rotational force through the crankshaft."
I stared at him.
Finn looked very pleased with himself.
"What?"
"You understood that."
"I know."
"You understood all of it."
"I know."
I narrowed my eyes as Finn leaned back proudly.
"I’ve gotten significantly smarter since we first met."
Silvia tilted her head.
"Did he used to be dumb?"
Finn pointed dramatically.
"I refuse to answer that."
After several more minutes discussing the engine, Finn eventually turned toward Silvia.
His expression became more serious.
"Question."
Silvia looked at him.
"What?"
"Are there any dangerous monsters near where your tribe lived?"
Silvia immediately nodded.
"Lots."
Finn winced.
"How many is lots?"
Silvia thought for a moment before she hesitantly answerd.
"There was a dragon."
The room became silent.
I slowly looked at Finn.
Finn slowly looked at me and then both of us looked back at Silvia.
"A what?"
"A dragon."
"It took over the watering hole near the tribe."
My eye twitched.
"The watering hole?"
She nodded.
"Everything drank from there."
Then her ears lowered.
"But after the dragon moved in, all the animals left."
Silence filled the workshop.
The implications became immediately obvious.
No animals.
No hunting.
No food.
Starvation.
Finn slowly sat back.
"That’s unfortunate."
I nodded.
"Very."
Finn sighed.
"Well."
He shrugged.
"Goodbye combustion engine."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"We can’t exactly fight a dragon."
I blinked.
Then pointed at him.
"Why not?"
Finn stared.
"Leon."
"Yes?"
"It’s a dragon."
"I know."
"Dragons are terrifying."
"I know."
"They require armies."
"I know."
"They require A-rank mages."
"I know."
Finn stared harder.
Then pointed aggressively.
"And you still want to go?"
I smiled.
"Of course."
Finn immediately groaned.
I leaned forward.
"Remember the B-rank mage?"
He paused.
"The one that took my leg?"
Finn nodded slowly.
"We were fourteen."
"Unfortunately."
"We had almost nothing."
"Also unfortunately, but."
I pointed around the workshop.
"Look what we have now."
Finn followed my gesture.
Factories.
Steel.
Firearms.
Production lines.
Infrastructure.
Industrial capability.
The silence stretched.
Then slowly—
A a small but slightly hesitant grin appeared on Finn’s face.
"Alright."
I smiled.
"You’re in?"
He laughed.
"I’m in."
I glanced outside seeing that the sky had darkened considerably and night had arrived.
I stretched before looking toward Finn.
"Tomorrow."
He nodded.
"The soldiers."
"Ten of them."
Finn smirked.
"I can handle training."
I laughed.
"I know."
He pointed toward himself proudly.
"I’m an expert."
"That’s a very generous description."
"It’s still technically correct."
I sighed.
Then extended a hand.
"Thanks."
Finn shook it.
"No problem."
I looked out the workshop window toward the distant factories and smoke-filled skyline.
"Once the soldiers are trained..."
My gaze shifted toward the industrial district.
"We start expanding firearm production."
Finn followed my gaze.
His smile slowly widened as he then looked back toward me.
"Things are about to get interesting."
I couldn’t help smiling.
He was absolutely right.
———————————
The next morning arrived quickly.
The industrial district was already alive long before sunrise.
Workers moved between buildings carrying materials while smoke rose from the foundries and machine halls.
The constant noise of industry echoed throughout the district as furnaces roared and hammers struck steel.
A short distance away from the main workshops, a temporary firing range had been set up.
Several wooden targets stood at varying distances while earth embankments had been raised behind them to safely catch any stray rounds.
Ten soldiers stood lined up before me.
Most looked curious, while a few looked skeptical and one or two looked outright unimpressed.
Which was fair.
To them I was still a sixteen-year-old noble with one leg.
The fact that I was standing beside the industrial district rather than a military camp probably wasn’t helping either.
Finn stood beside me holding one of the rifles.
I stepped forward.
"Good morning."
The soldiers immediately straightened.
I nodded.
"You’ve all been selected because my father believes you’re capable soldiers."
Several of them looked slightly proud and smug.
"Over the next few days, you will learn how to use a new weapon."
I gestured toward Finn.
"Afterward, you will return to your units and teach others."
One of the soldiers frowned.
"Teach them what exactly?"
Instead of answering, I pointed toward the rifle.
"That."
Several men exchanged confused looks as they had likely never seen anything like it before.
A few had heard rumors as the situation where I had defeated Adrian hard started to spread slowly across the kingdom, but most of them hadn’t a single clue.
I continued.
"This weapon is called a rifle."
One soldier raised an eyebrow.
"Looks expensive."
"Compared to a sword?"
The soldier paused.
"Fair point."
A few chuckles spread through the group.
I pointed toward Finn.
"He’ll demonstrate."
Immediately every pair of eyes shifted toward him and Finn looked pleased by the attention.
Naturally.
He stepped forward while holding the rifle across his chest.
"Alright."
He pointed toward one of the distant targets.
"Watch carefully."
The soldiers focused.
Finn then raised the rifle to his shoulder.
The motion looked smooth and practiced.
Months ago it would’ve looked awkward but now it looked natural.
Even I had to admit he had become genuinely skilled at shooting.
Finn lined up the sights.
The range fell silent.
Then—
BANG!
The thunderous report echoed across the district.
Several soldiers physically flinched.
One nearly grabbed his sword.
A flock of birds exploded out of a nearby tree.
Smoke drifted from the barrel, and far downrange—
THUNK.
The target shook violently.
The soldiers stared.
Nobody spoke.
A few looked from the rifle to the target and back again.
One soldier finally broke the silence.
"What in the hell was that?"
Finn grinned.
"That was the point."
The group continued staring.
I could practically see the gears turning in their heads.
No arrows.
No visible projectile.
No spell.
No mana.
Just a loud bang.
And suddenly the target had a hole through it.
Finn walked over to a nearby table and picked up one of the cartridges.
He held it up for everyone to see.
"This."
The soldiers leaned closer.
"It doesn’t look like much."
"It isn’t."
Finn pointed toward the brass casing.
"Inside this is gunpowder."
Then toward the projectile.
"And this piece of metal becomes the actual projectile."
One soldier scratched his head.
"So the weapon throws metal?"
"Very fast metal."
Several soldiers looked unconvinced which was understandable as the concept sounded ridiculous.
Finn then pointed toward another target.
"Anyone want to volunteer?"
The skepticism vanished instantly but eventually serveral hands shot up.
Apparently loud explosions were surprisingly persuasive.
Finn pointed toward one of them.
"You."
A broad-shouldered soldier stepped forward.
The rifle was handed over.
Immediately he nearly dropped it.
Not because it was heavy.
Because he clearly wasn’t expecting the weight distribution.
The other soldiers laughed.
"Shut up."
The soldier glared at them.
Finn walked around behind him.
"First lesson."
He pointed at the rifle.
"Don’t point it at your friends."
The soldier immediately lowered the barrel.
Several nearby men took a step back anyway.
Just in case.
Finn showed him how to insert the magazine.
Then how to pull back the bolt.
The metallic click drew curious looks from the others.
Finally the soldier aimed.
Poorly.
Very poorly.
I immediately stepped forward.
"No."
The soldier blinked.
"No?"
"You’re aiming at the sky."
The soldier looked embarrassed.
After a few adjustments, he finally lined up correctly.
Then squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
The recoil pushed the rifle back into his shoulder.
The soldier stumbled slightly.
Several others laughed.
Then abruptly stopped when they saw the target.
A fresh hole had appeared through the wood.
The soldier stared.
Then looked at the rifle.
Then the target.
Then the rifle again.
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"I hit it."
Finn laughed.
"You did."
The soldier looked genuinely excited.
"I hit it."
"You already said that."
"I HIT IT."
The rest of the group immediately became interested.
Within minutes every single soldier wanted a turn.
The firing range became significantly louder.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Smoke drifted across the field while soldiers rotated through the rifles.
At first most struggled.
Some aimed poorly.
Some flinched.
One closed his eyes before firing.
Another nearly dropped the rifle after his first shot.
But gradually they improved.
And the more they improved—
The quieter they became.
Because they were beginning to understand.
I stood beside Finn while watching one soldier place three consecutive shots into the same target.
The man’s expression slowly changed.
The excitement faded.
Replaced by realization.
The same realization spreading through the others.
A sword required years.
A bow required years.
Magic required talent.
Training.
Resources.
Luck.
But this?
A farmer could learn this.
A laborer could learn this.
Almost anyone could learn this.
The implications were beginning to sink in.
One soldier lowered his rifle.
Then looked toward me.
His voice was quieter than before.
"Lord Leon."
"Yes?"
He glanced toward the rifle.
Then toward the targets.
Then back toward me.
"If we can make enough of these..."
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
Because every soldier standing there had already reached the same conclusion.
The age of swords wasn’t ending today.
But for the first time—
They had just seen the weapon that would eventually replace them.
