Gunmage
Chapter 174: Knowledge forbidden, power denied

Chapter 174: Chapter 174: Knowledge forbidden, power denied

Lugh sighed.

Another voice echoed—Jahira’s.

"Come to think of it, I’m also curious about that,"

She said.

"The effect of the spell was devastating, yet there was no magic residue. Just how did they do it?"

Sensing the conversation was about to take a confidential turn, Isolde gave a slight nod to her shadows, who immediately dispersed from the room with fluid precision.

The gesture was more for the others present than for herself. Her shadows were already privy to most state secrets; she rarely saw the need to hide anything from them.

But the elves might not feel the same, and this was her way of acknowledging that.

They had taken countless steps to identify the culprit behind the attack. Until Lugh awoke, none of the Von Heim branch family who—alongside the Church—were the prime suspects, had been allowed to leave.

The lockdown would have gone on for weeks if necessary. It was fortunate the boy had only been unconscious for an approximate twenty-four hours.

Selaphiel hadn’t even managed to finish the alchemical potions she’d been concocting for him.

As Isolde’s shadows melted away into the corridor, the other elf in the room—silent until now—shifted nervously.

"P-perhaps I should also go with them..."

He stammered.

"No."

Selaphiel’s voice cracked like a whip.

He froze, head lowering instinctively to the floor.

Lugh shot him a curious glance, momentarily intrigued by the sudden dominance in Selaphiel’s tone, but turned his attention back to the issue at hand.

"So... what happened?"

Selaphiel gestured subtly, urging him to elaborate.

"It wasn’t a spell,"

Lugh stated.

A pause followed, thick with confusion.

"Huh?"

Jahira blinked.

All eyes locked on him, disbelief painted across their expressions. They had seen the aftermath—the cratered ground, the obliterated bodies. Saying it wasn’t a spell sounded like utter nonsense.

"It was gunpowder,"

Lugh continued.

"Gunpowder?"

Isolde echoed, her face darkening. Her eyes narrowed, thoughtful and dangerous all at once.

"What is gunpowder?"

Asked Lance, the one who had been injured earlier. His skeptical tone made it clear he thought Lugh was making things up.

Lugh looked at him for a long moment, something clicking in his mind.

He turned to Selaphiel.

"Do you know what gunpowder is?"

"I’ve heard of it,"

She replied, cautiously.

He shifted to Jahira.

"What about you?"

She met his gaze directly, eyes sharp.

"No, not really. I know what a gun is, though."

His eyes flicked to the last elf—the one who looked a lot like Lance. His eyes holding a silent question.

"N-no,"

The elf stammered.

"I’ve never heard of it in my life."

That... was a problem. A really, really big one.

Lugh had long wondered why the guards of noble houses still used cold weapons like swords, spears and halberds instead of firearms.

Why the ban on guns was so absolute. From what he’d just learned, there were several reasons for this, and none of them were good.

To confirm his suspicions, he turned to Isolde.

"Why are firearms so restricted in Pyrellis?"

"Oh, that?"

She said with a casual shrug.

"I’m not too clear on the exact details. All I know is that there was once a mass shooting carried out by local terrorists—lots of people died.

After that, the ministers pushed for a total ban. In the end, only the military was allowed to retain them. Even then, it was restricted.

Only recently, because of the war, have local garrisons in Pyrellis been granted access. And that’s largely because the king and royal family reside here."

She concluded her explanation while Lugh frowned deeply. That expression—a first for the others in the room—caused a flicker of surprise.

Throughout the ordeal, even after stabbing Lance in the heart and having a dagger pressed to his throat, Lugh’s face had been devoid of emotion.

But now... he looked genuinely disturbed.

"This is... troubling,"

He muttered.

Jahira tilted her head.

"I’m sorry, but what are firearms?"

Lugh gave a dry chuckle.

"Isn’t it odd? That elves, supposedly the seekers and gatekeepers of knowledge, don’t know something so simple?"

His words immediately soured the room. The tension snapped taut. Several of them scowled, offense clear in their posture. Even Selaphiel frowned, though her eyes showed restraint.

She was old enough to sense the seriousness behind Lugh’s seemingly dismissive tone.

Lance, meanwhile, was too consumed by simmering hatred to understand anything coming out of Lugh’s mouth.

The final elf looked close to a nervous breakdown, simply being in the presence of so many personalities.

That left only Jahira.

She glared at Lugh, her voice cutting and proud.

"Why should I bother memorizing one of the countless weapons you humans use to kill each other?"

So many things were wrong with that statement, but Lugh chose to let it go. For now.

"That,"

He said quietly,

"Is exactly the point."

She frowned.

"I don’t understand what you’re saying."

Sensing the temperature of the room rising again, Isolde interjected.

"A firearm is basically a gun,"

She explained.

"It’s a broad term used for weapons that employ gunpowder."

"Oh?"

Jahira raised an eyebrow, voice lined with curiosity.

"And what is gunpowder?"

Isolde clapped rhythmically. A few seconds later, a maid entered with practiced ease.

"Please bring Chief Warrant Officer Lugh’s gun. It’s in a drawer in my study,"

She instructed. Then she turned to Lugh and winked, before continuing her explanation.

"It’s a type of powder. More accurately, it’s like an alchemical concoction—highly explosive."

"An alchemical concoction, huh?"

Selaphiel mused. She turned to Lugh.

"And what’s so special about it?"

Lugh sighed.

"Gunpowder is a not just a concoction, it is the great equalizer"

He began

"A compound that rewrote the rules of war. With it, the power to kill no longer belongs only to the skilled, the noble, or the gifted—but to anyone with a steady hand and a loaded chamber. It places the authority of death into the hands of mortals."

Jahira scoffed.

"Stop exaggerating. It’s just a compound."

At that moment, a knock came from the door.

"Come in,"

Isolde called.

The maid stepped in, holding the weapon delicately.

Lugh took it from her hands and inspected it.

The chamber was still full of bullets, just as he’d left it. For a moment, he marveled at the durability of Ophris weapons. Despite the abuse and wear, it was functional, solid and reliable.

It would do for today’s demonstration.