Chapter 302: GUNS GUNS GUNS

Chapter 302: GUNS GUNS GUNS

At a spot beside the table without a proper chair was Vaulty, a multi-ton, four-legged golem crafted from a combo of ancient advanced magitech and a conglomerate of trapped souls. He’d originally been Throne’s minion, although we’d broken him out of that enslavement, and the two had since reconciled. Enough to work together without violence, anyway.

Vaulty could access most of the memories and skills of the various souls that inhabited his armored frame, all of whom were Delvers of a decent level in life. Their experience had a heavy skew towards weapons design, field tactics, and general logistics, but also multiple lifetimes' worth of other professions, from accounting to medicine. He was tentatively our main advisor for internal military structure, but we didn’t pigeonhole his role at these meetings.

Vaulty was also one of the most potent pieces of artillery in our employ. He wasn’t just a gun expert; he was a gun. Whether that made him better than non-gun gun experts, I had no idea, but there wasn’t a lot of competition. The Littans had cannons of both black powder and magical flavors, Hiwardians had something similar on their giant airship and fortifications, but nobody really had rifles or handguns as I knew them. Small arms weren’t yet prevalent in Arzia, but Vaulty came from a time and place where they had been.

Then again, the Zng rifles were basically weird wands, and Arzia had plenty of wands. I tried not to get bogged down in the technicalities of it. Arzian wands were like flintlock pistols compared to the semi-automatic rifles that were the Zng wands.

Fuck it, this analogy sucks. Moving on.

“My contributions are best outlined in conjunction with physical examples,” said Vaulty, his deep voice reverberating from deep within his chassis. “I would like to petition that my portion of the meeting be held within the armory.”

“All right,” I said. “Etja?”

“All in favor?” she asked, throwing a hand into the air. It was unanimously agreed to take a field trip. The possibility of seeing things explode may have helped with the vote. Personally, explosions were my favorite way to spice up a meeting.

Grotto teleported the entire council to the armory, where we all appeared in rapid succession. The last to blink into existence was Lena, the recently emancipated Littan rebellion leader and prospective governor of Closetland’s capital city (new name pending). She appeared with a soft squeak and some vigorous whisker-twitching. The lithe, grey-furred woman was the only person present who wasn’t some sort of mana-infused superorganism, System entity, or walking magical weapons platform, so she had the least experience being shuffled around via physics-defiling planar portals.

Surrounding us were racks on racks of Zng Spatial ‘Break’ rifles, and three rows filled with suits of Zng Prismatite-infused carbonweave armor standing at attention. The latter had caught Lena’s attention at first, and her initial fear was understandable. They were fully enclosed sets of armor with tall, thin body proportions that didn’t match anything the Littan would have been familiar with. To Lena, it had probably looked like a platoon of inhuman warriors was staring us down, before she realized they were inert.

Aside from the Zng tech, we also had several weapons the party had looted throughout the years–the ones unique enough not to sell–all floating in individual stasis fields, the Closet’s version of inventory slots. A longbow was surrounded by a field of crackling electricity, the arcing bolts frozen in time, a staff emitted a foreboding cloud of cursed darkness, a set of javelins wept blood–nothing too special, but with interesting weaves the crafters among us could study.

Then there was a sprawling mess of tubes and wires connecting to a giant vat of pulsating flesh. I didn’t recognize that one. Weird, but not weird enough for me to interrupt the meeting and ask about.

Beyond the smaller weapons was an area the size of a large aircraft hangar. To one side of that space was a big fuck-off cannon, twenty feet tall and fifty feet long even in its half-assembled state. I did recognize this one, although I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten our hands on it.

“Did we steal a Force cannon from the Littans?” I asked. Understanding whether we’d engaged in any grand theft and industrial espionage was worth interrupting the meeting over.

“Negative. Etja replicated the critical weaves from memory. Grotto, Throne, Nuralie, and I are in the process of recreating the one we thought most effective.” Vaulty’s servos whirred as he turned to look down the length of the cannon. “The technology is amusing, but inefficient for its cost and size. The battle station control mechanism is more impressive. It has yielded valuable insights into mana dampening and matrix attenuation.”

So, industrial espionage, but no grand theft.

I was fine with that.

After answering my question, Vaulty moved to a work table, picked up a Zng rifle lying across its surface, and tossed it to me. I caught it and looked it over, noticing it had been heavily modified from the versions sitting on the racks.

“We have constructed new stocks, grips, and triggers for use with the Zng ‘Break’ rifles, to accommodate modern-era humanoid hand structures. These can be used to retrofit the existing arsenal.” Vaulty pointed to a few targets and dummies that had been set up at different distances across the large space, which I was realizing now was a weapons range. “Please test it for usability.”

I stepped forward so that everyone else was uprange of me, tucked the rifle against my shoulder, and aimed it towards a bullseye about midfield. That seemed like a good choice to 1) not miss, and 2) avoid getting ribbed for firing at the closest target. I rested my cheek lightly against the stock and sighted down its length.

The Zng had longer arms, more fingers, and less thumbs than a human. The unmodified rifle had been impossible to hold and shoot with any accuracy. The modified version I now held felt as comfortable as any rifle I’d fired on Earth. I hadn’t been a gun nut, but I’d made it to the range at least once a year to get my yippee-ki-yays in. I felt comfortable with the basics. Ř𝐀Ŋ𝖔𝖇Еꞩ

I pulled the trigger. There was no kick or recoil, just a brief, satisfying vibration letting me know the weapon had fired. Splinters shot out from the target in a sudden vortex, and a hole the size of a baseball appeared, slightly low and to the right of dead center.

“Damn,” I said. “Anticipated recoil and pulled down before the shot.” I looked the rifle over again. “Still making that mistake even with superpowers.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“A few hours with the rifle will eliminate that habit,” said Vaulty. “Your Strength score is also high enough that recoil from a normal kinetic projectile weapon would barely be noticed.”

I nodded at Vaulty’s commentary, but I had no real desire to master this kind of weapon. “Can a regular person use this?”

“Yes. The artificial mana matrix bypasses the normal connection that magic items make with an entity. A mundane humanoid can fire the rifle without harm. However, there is still some concern with prolonged exposure to elevated mana levels.” Vaulty held out a thick, metallic hand, and I passed the rifle back to him. He pointed to a spot just ahead of the trigger guard, where there was a rectangular seam. “While the Break spell within the rifle is low mana-use and insufficient to harm a mundane person with its secondary effects, the weapon still contains a mana reservoir which serves as a stand-in for a standard magazine.”

Vaulty glanced over at Lena, then said, “Please take five steps back.” Lena complied, taking five big steps back. Vaulty returned his attention to the weapon, sliding a finger down the right side of the seam. It popped open at an angle, revealing a chamber containing a simple wand. I caught a faint trace of excess Dimensional mana with my mana sight, but only because I’d been primed to look for it. Otherwise, the light venting would have registered as background noise.

Vaulty caught the wand before it slid all the way out. “This is not harmful while it remains within the weapon, but exchanging the wand within the weapon’s core will expose the user to a brief burst of excess mana.” He tucked the wand back into place and snapped the cartridge shut. He put the rifle back onto the work surface. “I recommend that mundane individuals avoid reloading the weapon.”

He motioned for us to follow him to the next work station over, where another rifle lay. This one shared some similarities to Zng design principles, but diverged enough that it was clear this was more than a modification to an existing gun.

“We have developed a comprehensive design schematic for the production of new rifles using the Zng artificial matrix technology. Mana weaving will require five ruby chips per new rifle produced. Assuming unlimited funds, the primary bottleneck will be finding a competent wandmaker with adequate time for scaled production.”

“I can make wands with the Break spell,” I said. “But I don’t have time to pump out hundreds of wands.” I gestured to Nuralie, whose whole body had coiled up like a spring at Vaulty’s mention of an uncapped budget. “Our master of coin would probably object to the use of unlimited funds, as well.”

Nuralie nodded in return, then said, “I am familiar with the weapon since I helped to design it, but I think it is worth showing the rest of the council how much the rifle enhances a mundane person’s lethality.”

I raised an eyebrow at Lena. “Feel like shooting something?”

The Littan walked slowly towards us, glancing at Vaulty to make sure she was safe to approach. The golem motioned her forward and picked up the newly made rifle. It was shorter than the Zng weapons, keeping the matte black appearance but with several fuchsia stripes along its length serving as an obvious visual differentiator.

Vaulty pointed to a target about fifty yards away, a dummy wearing a full set of steel plate armor. He spent a few minutes giving Lena a safety speech, then gently assisted her in holding and aiming the rifle. Vaulty kept close, able to intervene if Lena accidentally did something dangerous, but let Lena hold and fire the weapon on her own.

The weapon made no noise, but a whoomp came from the armored target, along with the sound of twisting metal as a hole formed in its armor. Vaulty showed Lena how to properly engage a safety on the rifle, then took it back from her. After, we all took a walk down to the target.

Vaulty let us get a good look at the puncture in the armor, the edges of which were bent and mangled. The golem flicked a couple of buckles, and the wooden dummy’s cuirass fell away, revealing that the damage wasn’t limited to the armor. A fist-sized hole went through the dummy’s abdomen, and would have severed the target’s spine, had it had one.

“Miss Lena, do you have any combat training?”

“No,” she said, eyes wide as she stared at the damage she’d wrought.

“Five minutes of instruction,” Varrin said, “and she could kill an armored knight from a hundred paces.

“True, but leaving Miss Lena to her own devices with the weapon at this time would be grossly irresponsible. Additional training would be required to avoid friendly fire incidents, but the time commitment for attaining competency with this weapon is closer to learning a spear than a sword.”

“It can also hurt Delvers,” Nuralie added. “The Break spell is designed to overcome armor and resistances, but the trade-off is that the damage is low.” Pause. “We believe a squad of ten ordinary soldiers could eliminate a Delver with a Fortitude of 10 without issue, assuming that they see them coming.”

“Agreed. My recommendation for an adequate peacetime defense force requires one out of every one hundred citizens to be enlisted. Double during cold war periods and triple for hot. Given Closetland’s current population, the existing retrofitted Zng rifles are sufficient to provide arms to enough mundane service members to meet this quota. However, it would be wise to begin production of additional rifles ahead of the explosive population growth I expect we will see in the coming years.”

Vaulty pointed to the rows of dark armor. “We have made similar progress with the Zng carbonweave, which contains a variety of non-magical defensive features. However, the portions of the armor that are usable by mundane individuals require complex chemical compounds. No existing civilization possesses wide-scale manufacturing capabilities for advanced chemical synthesis.

“Absent those manufacturing capabilities, materials would need to be produced by a Delver with several relevant intrinsic skills, such as Nuralie. Alternatively, Grotto or Throne may be able to handle these functions in a more traditional manner, in which case processing facilities would need to be constructed. I have passed along relevant information for either approach.”

“How good are those non-magical defenses?" I asked. “I assume creating chemical plants isn’t cheap. Would the investment needed to make this stuff be worth it?”

“A mundane individual in a full suit of non-magical Zng-style carbonweave would effectively be untouchable to another ordinary person. Steel weapons and other mundane arms available to current civilizations would be rendered harmless. Against Delvers and other magical beings, the defenses become significantly less viable. A Level 1 Delver with a relevant intrinsic skill at level 10 would generally be capable of killing a mundane soldier wearing this equipment with a single well-placed strike.”

“But they’d be unstoppable against normal infantry?”

“Correct.”

Xim stood in front of one of the armor suits and flicked it with her fingernail. “One-shot kills and invulnerability against the rank-and-file,” she said. “It doesn’t matter whether the people wearing this stuff can fight Delvers themselves; what matters is that the enemy would have to send Delvers to deal with them.”

“Or their equivalent,” I said, thinking about the United. “Still, forcing someone to field their elites to deal with our infantry is a pretty big tactical advantage. What do you need to make this happen?”

“The immediate recruitment of a talented wandmaker, along with one or more Delvers possessing Engineering, Alchemy, or appropriate alternatives at a minimum skill level of 40.” Vaulty whirred to look at Nuralie. “And a significant budget increase.”

“We can make that happen,” I said. I rubbed my beard, running through all the Delvers I knew. “Didn’t we rescue a crafter who’d been trapped inside that ninja warrior Delve last year?”

“Yep!” said Etja. “But he was the one who jumped anytime he tried to talk.” She frowned at the memory.

“That rogue Delve Core messed him up pretty good,” said Xim, “but we got him to a dedicated healer who deals with brain injuries. I can check in and see how he’s doing.”

“We can look into Seinnador as well,” I said. “He’s more of a merchant than an engineer, though.”

“Excellent. Moving on, I have submitted a proposed military structure, and will now provide an overview.”

Vaulty then went on at length about a potential military apparatus, after which he moved to another area he’d found reason to explore.

The first of many.