B2- Ch 17 - Guns (Patreon)

It felt kind of surreal to think that it had been nearly two decades, and I was just now introducing guns to the world.

During my time in Solstice, I had introduced modern manufacturing, electricity, the steam engine, steamships, and soon a railroad, but I still hadn’t brought guns to the world.

While it seemed strange, technology isn’t created equal.

Before we could even create the barrel of a gun, we first needed to make pipes, which required a lathe, which required a steam engine, which required steel, which required blast furnaces, which…

By the time you started running down the list of everything involved, it wasn’t surprising that it took so long.

To my credit, however, I had only started introducing things in full when I was twelve. It’s not like I could be a warmonger as a one-year-old.

I mean, I could.

But then I would’ve been executed as the demon lord.

Heh.

Just thinking about it made me salty because I needed to see Edikus soon, and Edikus set me on fucking fire—as a child—over that shitty logic.

Whatever, it wouldn’t be long, now.

Not long at all.

“How close are they to measurement?” I asked Carter, observing a .50 caliber cartridge made of brass. There were thousands in a crate before him but ten thousand in creates that were marked defective.

Carter frowned. “They’re close enough to work under strict quality control,” he replied. “We’ve got the stampin’ and stretchin’ down, but we need somethin’ better for fine-tunin’ it. Hence, the other crates.”

I looked over. “So those are close, but they just better machining?”

Precision machining refers to removing metal to ensure something has the exact shape, dimensions, and finish that someone needs. That’s what lathes, mills, and grinders are for.

“Nah. We got the equipment, but….”

“You can’t automate it?” I smirked. “What happened to the love and passion of blacksmithing?”

Carter snorted. “I never said shit about that being a bad thing. After this, anything else just seems grossly inefficient.”

“Welcome to my world,” I grinned, patting his shoulder. “How’s the gun coming?”

“Easy,” he answered, “without that ‘recoil’ shit you were talkin’ about, I feel like I’m making a toy.”

My grin widened as he led me to the outline of a Barrett M107 anti-material rifle, the most famous .50 caliber sniper on Earth.

This gun wasn’t a joke. With an effective range of around 1,800 meters (~1.1 miles), it could kill a mage without them even knowing something was coming.

That was the problem. Mages had all sorts of niffy barriers, skills, void magic, gravity magic, and all kinds of other skills that could effectively stop an AK-47 in battle. And people like me couldn’t even be penetrated by a standard assault rifle bullet (albeit hurting like hell). However, an anti-material rifle designed to puncture through tanks, shot from a mile away, was a silent killer that could kill nearly anyone without them seeing it coming.

It was a brutal weapon—

—and that’s what humanity needed.

Well, that’s what I needed until I owned humanity.

Nuance, nuance.

Anyway, it wasn’t the longest-ranged sniper rifle, but it was effective—and mass-producable. 

“That ‘recoil shit’ was important on Earth,” I chuckled. “Snipers regularly needed shoulder surgery because of the recoil. Everyone else was fucked.”

That was the problem with anti-material rifles—they fired bullets designed for mounted fucking machine guns. 

Therefore, they needed improved technology for muzzle brakes, recoil pads, and even hydraulic systems to help lessen the recoil. That type of technology was a science, allowing for gas release out of the muzzle and using systems in the stock that utilize air and oils to dampen shocks. It wasn’t something people casually came up with.

Unless, of course, people were just copying people’s hard work and presenting it as their own. AKA were total winners.

“But it’s not important here?” Carter mocked, seeing me grin about the recoil systems.

“Of course not. A child Immortal could outbench a young Arnold Schwarzenegger,” I snorted. “They can handle a bump from a sniper rifle standing.”

“What the hell did you just say, Boss?”

“What did I….” I looked up from the gun with a confused expression and thought, ‘When did I start caring about other people? Am I enjoying this?’

“Why are you starin’?” Carter frowned. “This isn’t like you.”

“Nothing. It’s just like… when I’m talking to you, my brain isn’t cross-checking your every word against….”

I smiled wryly. After the forgiveness spell and the reduction of hyperthymesia, I didn’t contradict everything people said against their prior words. It wasn’t that I couldn’t remember those things. It was more like… they became irrelevant. As a result, I could relax more about people.

Still, I couldn’t explain that to others, so I didn’t try.

“Look, that’s not important,” I said. “What’s important is that the hard parts of making this rifle are done simply by virtue of our people being solid as oxen. So the only question is how the rifling is going?”

“It’s going fine…. I think,” Carter replied, rubbing his head. “We haven’t found anyone confident enough to test one out.”

Rifling refers to threads in a barrel that make the bullet spin. That spin keeps the bullet straight, increasing accuracy and prevents situations where the projectile hits the barrel and causes it to explode.

That’s the reason that no one wanted to fire a .50 caliber bullet—it would blow their hand off.

However, his worry slightly annoyed me. “Do you think that humans test weapons?” I turned and looked at the machinery in his shop, heating, rolling, and stamping metal without human intervention.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “I’ll make yet another machine.”

After a few more grumbles, I left for the day and returned to Lockheart Castle and did king stuff before pawning it on Rema again. However, things were slightly different now, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

“Thanks for your help today,” I said as the redhead left the room. Thea had gone to work with the Castellan to better accommodate our needs, so we were just finishing up audience work. 

Rema froze after my thank you.

I furrowed my brow. “Is there something wrong?” 

She sharply turned to me with far more dramatic flair than necessary. “What’s going on with you?”

Cold sweat dripped down my shoulder blades. What the fuck does that mean? I wasn’t doing anything, but I figured it had to do with the forgiveness spell. “What do you mean?”

“Two days now,” she said, putting up two fingers. “You’ve thanked me two days in a row.”

My eyes narrowed. “I thank you every day.”

“If you consider a dry obligatory action a gesture of appreciation, then yes, you do,” Rema huffed. “You usually treat me like a friend but appreciate my work like I’m a servant.”

“Yes, and that’s a fault of mine,” I deadpanned. “That’s why I’ve been working on it with my therapist.”

Her face heated up. “Just when you get nicer, you prove you’re the same.”

“That should be your expectation.”

“I refuse.”

With those words, Rema stormed out of the room like a spoiled child.

“What am I going to do about this?” I muttered, slumping into my chair. “I’m not trying to set wrong expectations, but it probably seems that way….”

Rema genuinely liked me… for God knows what fucking reason.

I’m kinda a dick to her.

Nah, just in general. Humans are just irrational.

“Who would’ve ever thought that I would be popular?” I chuckled. After a deep breath, I looked at the chandelier, still flickering with real flames, threatening to burn the entire room down. “Too bad I didn’t learn shit about anything like this.”

Rema Redfield loved me—

—and I couldn’t reciprocate.

The primal side of me wouldn’t mind. 

Rema Redfield was intelligent, capable, and gorgeous. She was everything that you wanted to show off to your friends and parents as a sign of wealth and prestige. And her body….

As I said, the primal side of me wouldn’t mind. 

Now, since the forgiveness spell, I no longer resented a lot of things about Rema from my past. And, since she had been nothing but good to me since becoming the emissary, my thoughts on her were far more favorable.

And then there was the rational, ethical, and emotional side of me.

Rationally, I’d start a war over courting Rema after everything.

Ethically, I didn’t find it was right not to be monogamous. That was just my opinion—sue me.

As for emotionally, the most critical aspect is that I loved Thea, and I would never hurt her—and sleeping with another woman would really, really hurt her. 

Traumatize her, maybe.

No, It would definitely traumatize her and give her crazy trust issues.

It’d sure as fuck traumatize me.

If Thea slept with someone else….

I’d never trust anyone ever again.

Why would I do that to her?

And Rema. Was I just going to lead her on and give her hope that she wouldn’t have to have a political marriage?

That’s the one that really got to me.

I groaned as I slumped into the chair. “I probably wouldn’t have even cared about her feelings a few years ago,” I snorted. “You don’t want to spread your legs to an old man for the sake of the kingdom? Sucks to be you, Princess.”

I took a deep breath. “But now…. It just kinda sucks. Should I reject her outright? Or just let her get over it?”

My eyes flashed open, and I stood up and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh and speaking. “Just do what never failed me and ignore people’s emotions,” I chuckled, clapping my hands.

However, I froze when I replayed my phrasing.

Spreading your legs for a kingdom.

Maybe it was just my ego, but the thought of Rema being with some other man kinda of bothered me in general, but that was just life. However, the idea of her getting sold into a relationship reminded me why it bothered me so much.

And Rema was my chosen family. I cared about her.

Wasn’t that why I acquired power, to begin with? To prevent the people I care about from getting abused and taken advantage of?

Suddenly, my heart raced, and I chased down Rema.

“Let’s go into the Council Chambers.”

Rema’s cheeks flushed, and she took sharp breaths.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, leading her into the room. 

When we got inside, Rema put her back on the door with sharp breaths. “W-What is it?” she asked, adjusting her positioning.

“Rema,” I said, making her flush cheeks. It was aggravating me. “Listen to me, Rema.” 

She looked forward and gulped. “Yes?”

“Listen carefully so you don’t misconstrue what I’m saying,” Rema nodded. “Whenever you speak to your father, insinuate that there’s a chance that I may marry you yet.”

“W-What?!” Rema cried.

I took a deep breath, regretting my decision to care. “Didn’t you just hear me? I just said… whatever. Listen, Rema. So long as you’re indispensable for keeping our alliance, King Redfield won’t try to marry you off. Do you understand?”

Rema gulped and nodded. “Well, yeah…?” There was nothing more common sense to her.

“Indeed. And since you’re immortal and will retain your appearance at 25, waiting 20 years won’t be a problem.”

Her eyes widened. “What’s in twenty years?”

“That’s how long it’ll take for me to make political marriages irrelevant,” I said, making her hold her breath. “Do you remember what you said to me when we met?”

Rema gulped.

“You said that you’d rather have me than get married off to some random old noble, right?” I continued. “And that was probably the subconscious reason you gained feelings for me in the first place. Right?”

She opened and closed her mouth. Once the keyword “subconscious” was in the mix, she couldn’t deny it. That was what triggered her feelings originally. “I suppose so….”

I took a sharp breath. “Well, I can’t offer you my hand in marriage. However, I can make sure that—one day—you’ll have the right to marry whoever the fuck you want.”

After saying, my eyes glided to the left and snapped back on her. “However, if you just obsessed over me forever, that wouldn’t be bad either.”

Rema’s eyes, wide and threatening tears, turned cold and bewildered, making her smack my shoulder while laughing and crying simultaneously.

“What type of monster are you?”

My lips curved into a smile. “Just ask your father. I’m sure he has some answers.”

Rema burst into tears and laughed simultaneously, leaving her flustered and heaving with light breaths. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re my family,” I declared, looking into her eyes, “and I protect my family.”

…

After ten minutes of regretting my life as she cried, laughed, and did other shit I found uncomfortable, I finally left and met up with Thea. I told her that I flat-out rejected her advances, but she’ll probably love me twice as much. When she asked how the hell that worked, I said, The hell if I know.

Either way, Thea was visibly glad I drew a line in the sand. Surprisingly, she was genuinely glad that I was helping her. It astonished me, but I could see something important in Thea’s eyes:

The desire to have a real friend.

I was her entire life. Perhaps, now that I cut off romantic advances, Thea would accept Rema as one of our own and even invite her to Valencia the winter after our return from Antigua. Or, perhaps, she’d even accept her on our conquest of Antigua.

It wasn’t clear.

Either way, that night, it felt like a burden was off my chest.

Until, of course, she started blushing and acting coy for the next few weeks, magically removing her ability to even yell at me.

Fuck human emotions.

Speaking of which, I did my due diligence with Rema’s feelings. After that, it was refreshingly easy to stonewall her advances with the might of full rationality.

That only seemed to make Rema want me more—

—but I couldn’t care less.

That was officially a her problem, not a me problem.

That said, I didn’t mind the banter, and a few things changed.

Before long, the enchantment hearts in her eyes disappeared, and she was back to her old self, stopping into the audience chambers with a large package that made my eyes light up.

“What the hell is this, Ryker?”

I wiggled my fingers as if to say, gimme, gimme, gimme!

She didn’t gimme.

I frowned. “Why do you look so angry about it?”

“Why?” Rema fumed. “Do you know how many requests Carter put in to get this to you since you wouldn’t come down to meet him?”

“Oh….” I chuckled. “That’s why people kept telling me they needed me.”

“Yeah, and as always, you sent me.”

“Correct.”

We had a standoff for a moment before Thea’s stealth skill deactivated, and she playfully yoinked the package out of the redhead’s hands and scampered over to me, putting it into my hands.

“Thank~you~,” I chimed, subconsciously relishing Rema’s bloodshot eyes as I opened the package. When I looked inside, my eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas… Hanukkah, fuck it, religion-sensitive economic boost day. 

“Well? What is it?” Rema asked, tapping her foot. “Since I argued with Carter for 20 minutes to get it, you should tell me.”

Passive aggressive much?

Regardless of her approach, I wanted to show her anyway, so I pulled out my shiny new toy—a 4.75-foot anti-material rifle with a charcoal gray finish.

“What the fuck is that?” Rema asked. “Wait… is that the…?”

I put my index on my lips. “Shhhhhhh….” Then I petted it. “Yes.”

Yes, it is, in fact, the same anti-material sniper rifle that killed the archmage that was threatening your life. Just as a reminder, I saved you. 

Rema was flustered, charmed, and terrified by the sight. “You really have a king killer? You understand that—“

“Tell your father.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I’m not giving him one. So he better keep his daughter around, yes?”

My arrogant anti-professionalism doused Rema’s professionalism, but she couldn’t help but gulp. “What are you going to do with that?”

“I’m going to train people how to kill archmages with it,” I grinned, patting it down. “Once I finish with that… well, I’m going to meet with some archmages.”

After some back and forth on the gun, she left me with it. “I should get to bed,” I thought. “There’s a world to change tomorrow.”

And that’s precisely what happened.

Within only a few days, a regiment was out in the fields, practicing shooting the beastly gun at 500 meters. The melons we set up exploded spectacularly every time they fired, making the soldiers cheer.

They were excited.

And so was I.

‘This is power,’ I thought. ‘Now, I have true power.’

Physical strength. Political influence. Magic. Knowledge. And now military might. I honestly had what it took.

“A few more weeks,” I grinned. “After that, it’s finally time to get ahold of Edikus.” With a thin smile, I set up another drill. By the time I meet with Edikus, they will be ready to kill him.

2

A few weeks flew by in a flash. I spent most of that time drilling my people, giving books to military leaders, and focusing on my new training materials going out. We were now pumping out a thousand copies of the Farmer’s Almanac, as the printing press only had to be set once, and then it could stamp the page a thousand times. Unfortunately, even with ten presses going simultaneously, it would take a few more weeks to get those thousand copies over to the book binders and ready for sale.

My schools were now famous. Once the children started helping parents learn my new reforms and financial opportunities, people began flooding in.

I spent time every night transcribing books and giving them to the teachers to teach, so there was no shortage of materials. Still, it was getting taxing.

Luckily, I wasn’t alone. Rema was helping me run the kingdom, Thea was taking care of education, and Leon was running Goldenspire to fantastic effect. I think. I got letters almost daily about him complaining about how running a kingdom was far beyond running a margrave territory.

I told him that he should cry on his bed of gold.

Times flew by in that manner until my soldiers were trained.

“It’s time to release my invitation to Edikus,” I muttered, looking at envelopes that said, In Marcus Aurelius, we trust. “Let’s see how this goes.”

After stamping it on all my official letters, I sent them out, one by one, until Thea rolled over one night and confirmed the bait worked: “They’re here.”

She was lying in bed with her eyes closed, watching the troops on the outer perimeter from birds in the sky (she wouldn’t let her crowls get killed for recognizance). 

“Casualties?” I asked.

“It looks like they’re just knocking the people out. It’s hard to tell in the darkness.”

“I suppose we should greet our guests.”

Thea turned to me. “There’s five.”

“That’s a good number,” I replied, getting up and pulling on a cloak. Thea followed suit, ready for a fight. “That’s the amount that says we’re outnumbered but isn’t untenable.”

With a nod from Thea, we walked to the roof of Lockheart Castle and jumped off the roof into Avalon, the private garden behind the castle. The moonlight washed over the flowers, planted in neat fields that glimmered in the moonlight.

When our guests saw us, they froze and veered off course, simply choosing to confront us directly. 

“You’ve gotten rather bold,” Edikus’s voice called out from the darkness. “I pegged you for someone who would’ve known when to be humbled.”

“I’m a slow learner,” I replied.

Edikus came into view with three others, surrounding us on all four sides. “Let’s get to the point. What is this?”

With a flick of his wrist, he threw my invitation on the ground.

“Something that your spies in the Redfield Kingdom recognized on sight, I take it,” I smirked.

I put “In Marcus Aurelius, we trust” on everything I sent, but the format was different for each. Therefore, I knew where their spies got it, depending on where I sent it and to whom. When Edikus realized I had baited him into revealing his spies, his eyes turned cold.

“Oh, you think you’re smart now that you’ve awakened your spirit veins?” Edikus sneered, examining. “That’s a basic requirement of the wraiths.”

“Are we here to talk, or are you going to wave your superiority complex around?” I asked.

Edikus chuckled, shattering the silence.

No, plenty was going on. I spoke. Leaves rustled. People shifted. However, the tension was so thick that the primal side of our brains drowned out everything else.

Edikus stood behind three people like Archwizard Roman—people who could destroy kingdoms and bend the weather to their will.

These people were monsters, and I was insulting them.

“Is this you finally accepting you’re a king?”

I frowned. “No, this is accepting that you’re valuable.”

“Have you forgotten that I’ll kill you for that ego?” Edikus asked his voice ice cold.

“Don’t ever threaten me again, Edikus,” I warned.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” one of the archwizards said. Another followed. For people who had lived for centuries and had known battle, they could sense that something was off. And Edikus could, too.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I glanced at his three kingdom-shattered archwizards. “What are you doing?”

My heart pounded as Edikus deliberated what to do, going through seemingly thousands of simulations of what to do if he attacked. How to respond, protect Thea, and kill—kill the person threatening me and my family.

Edikus could see that in my eyes.

It wasn’t a ruse, and he knew it.

The question was, what was he going to do about it?

“I’m coming here to kill you if necessary,” Edikus declared. “I don’t underestimate you.”

“You’re prepared to kill me, and yet you have the audacity to ask what I’m doing to protect myself?” I snorted, indignation welling in my heart.

Alarm signals went off in the archwizards’ minds. “We need to take him!”

Time slowed to a crawl as they made their judgment, making Thea get into a battle stance and Edikus spin around to stop them.

 “It’s better that—“

Before the second gave his consent and moved forward to apprehend me, I lifted my hand, two booms rang out, and their heads exploded like melons, sending their bodies flying. 

“Where?!”

If nothing else, these people were thorough battle-tested veterans, so they naturally scoured the kingdom, logging threats. However, they didn’t feel anyone who had the power to kill them. 

That’s because there was no one to find.

My snipers—fueled by superhuman senses—were half a mile away. And by the time anyone could hear the gunshots, the archwizards’ heads had exploded. It was ghostly.

The third archwizard tried to rush Thea as a hostage, but her head exploded when she stopped to grab her.

Edikus had put up a barrier, wisely choosing not to engage when there was an unknown number of enemies who could kill archwizards.

However, to his horror, I used my known barrier magic knowledge to shatter his barrier, holding a Smith & Wesson Model 500.

Was it powerful enough? No.

Faster than him saying two words? Oh yeah.

“50 king killers are watching this area,” I warned, glancing at the others. “Are you ready to talk, you fucking asshole?”

“You’re a fucking brat.”

I scoffed in amazement. “You just admitted you came here prepared to kill me if you didn’t get your way, and you’re calling me a brat? On second thought, it’s a lot more rational—“

“What do you want?!” Edikus snapped. “You proked us—now we’re… I’m here. So get to the fucking point.”

I took a deep breath, suppressing a deep desire to blow his brains out and hunt down all the other archwizards. However, these people were holding Antigua and the demon continent at bay. For that reason, leaving this continent was dangerous—especially when I was here.

Sneak attacks wouldn’t work in the future.

It wouldn’t be easy to snipe archwizards flying around, and it wasn’t clear how many were. There were too many unknown variables, and I didn’t like them.

Either way, killing Edikus was a declaration of war—

—and we weren’t ready for war.

We came here to talk, so that’s what I’d do.

I reached into my spatial bag, pulled out a leather-bound book, and threw it to him.

“What’s this?” Edikus asked.

“Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius, the person I assume to be your general,” I explained. “If he was your general, we have a problem.”

Edikus looked up in a haze. “What do you mean?”

“Marcus Aurelius was a famous general, one of the five great emperors of a very famous country,” I replied. “That means that the other people here are likely similar, which is to say that they’re not people who would settle for less than control.”

His eyes narrowed. “So what? You’re going to take over the world now?”

I took a deep breath and looked away, half tempted to have Thea slap the shit out of the man while 50 snipers were ready to skullfuck him. 

“I know you’re downplaying that I know who your old leader was, but you need to get rid of that mindset before I kill you,” I said chillingly. “Your leader was a good person. The person who’s awakening in 81 years—is not.”

Edikus’s eyes widened. “You mean you know what the otherworlders came here to kill?”

“Killed,” I corrected. “An otherworlder killed the demon king centuries ago. But the gods didn’t realize that the Earthian they sent to kill the demon king was worse than the demon king himself.”

3

While I couldn’t confirm my suspicions, Edikus, and all the other Wraiths had seen Marcus Aurelius’s memories. As a result, they knew what I was talking about—but not how to interpret it.

Once I explained that all the people in Marcus Aurelius’s memories were likely famous world leaders, and the one who killed the demon king was rather notorious, he finally understood why his general fought to suppress the otherworlders.

As a result of the conversation and ego stroking his idol, Edikus agreed to enter into a shakey alliance, agreeing to protect Novena while I subjugated Antigua. After all, I killed three kingdom-shattering archwizards in two minutes—he didn’t doubt I could do it.

Upon explaining my plans for Antigua and the world, he agreed to make a showing at Priest Aerilus’s execution to make the declaration.

Still, he warned me that I couldn’t make the first move—Cyrvena, Desiderata, or any other country had to give me the pretext of invasion. 

If not, it would be war.

Without a mutual refusal of a handshake, Edikus left, giving me free rein.

When Thea and I went to bed that night, I collapsed onto the bed, my heart racing. “I can’t believe I just got permission to take over the world.”

Thea chuckled as she lay down beside me. “You never needed permission to begin with.”

I grinned in a state of mania. “But it feels damn good, though.”

That night, we slept well.

There was a long road ahead of us, but we were now free.

Starting tomorrow, we will start mass-producing modern weaponry—

—and prepare to take over the world.

[A/N: I have an exciting announcement! I CAN FINALLY PUBLISH SHIT!

I’ve been living in grueling poverty and struggling to soul-crushing degrees because I’ve been in a contract (from the past) that made it challenging to monetize my work. However, as of today, I’m free! That means once I start publishing, I could officially become a professional author (after I get my shit together).

Guys, I could fucking cry. Like Ryker, I just got the green light on the future, and I’m ready to take over the fucking world.

I’m releasing a poll about releasing content. While I’m getting fucking murdered (perhaps skullfucked is a better term) by life right now, I have a lot of projects set for next year. So, in addition to publishing Chemist, I can give you content that will be exclusive for quite a while.

Don’t misunderstand: I’ve put hundreds of hours into these novels over the last few months, and I’m releasing high-quality drafts from the backlog. This is simply a thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through hell and back. 

That said, if people don’t vote in favor, I won’t release them.]