Chapter 153: Twelve Percent Power Nearly Tore My Arm Off

Finding somewhere to fire the rifle proved harder than building the projectile.

Raven didn’t want to test it near Kharad.

Not because he necessarily expected an explosion.

The problem was that he couldn’t rule one out either.

Besides, an unknown weapon producing an unknown noise near a settlement that had just survived several days of detonations and Burrower activity would probably create questions.

Raven still didn’t want questions.

Maelor solved the problem.

"There’s an old quarry west of here," he said, studying the rifle with a mixture of interest and suspicion. "Nobody’s worked it in fifteen years. Bad stone, worse roads, and no active tunnels underneath."

Raven adjusted one of the Prototype Rifle’s external plates.

"Distance?"

"An hour on horseback."

"Anyone nearby?"

"One farm about four kilometers away."

"Too close."

Maelor raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of noise are you expecting?"

Raven looked at the weapon.

"I don’t know yet."

That ended the discussion.

The second option was almost three hours southwest of Kharad.

An old testing quarry once used by a mining company to detonate experimental alchemical mixtures. The site had been abandoned after the company discovered that the mineral vein was too poor to justify transportation costs.

What mattered was that it was empty, surrounded by high rock walls, and far enough from any settlement that a detonation wouldn’t make Joren send half the local guard to investigate.

Maelor drew them a route.

He didn’t come with them.

"I’ve spent enough time this week near things that explode."

Raven couldn’t argue with that.

Roland wanted to come.

At least until Raven pointed out that someone needed to remain in Kharad to watch the recovered documents and make sure Keller Ridge didn’t somehow make its detained employees disappear.

The archer stared at him for several seconds.

"That sounds suspiciously like an excuse to keep me from seeing the first shot."

"It’s a necessary task."

"It’s also an excuse."

"Both can be true."

Roland pointed at the rifle.

"If it explodes, I want a detailed description."

Valeria answered before Raven could.

"I’ll handle it."

"Thank you."

Raven looked between them.

"The confidence is touching."

They left before noon.

Raven carried the Prototype Rifle wrapped in cloth inside a long case Maelor had found among old mining equipment. It didn’t completely hide the weapon’s unusual shape, but at least passing travelers couldn’t immediately see preserved biological structures integrated into Black Mithril and decide that it deserved a conversation.

The first projectile sat inside a much smaller box.

That had been the morning’s problem.

A rifle needed ammunition.

FORGE hadn’t forgotten that detail.

It simply hadn’t decided to solve it for him.

Raven understood ammunition from Earth: casings, projectiles, propellant, primers, chamber pressure.

Almost none of that applied directly to this weapon.

The Prototype Rifle didn’t need gunpowder. The Pulse Core provided acceleration, the Impulse Spark initiated the firing cycle, the Reservoir supplied mana, and the Pressure Chamber regulated the resulting force.

In theory, that meant the projectile itself could be much simpler.

Raven had started with a cylinder of hardened steel, tapered toward the front and machined as closely as Hadrik’s tools allowed to the internal barrel diameter FORGE had calculated.

Hadrik had stared at it during fabrication.

"That seems too small for everything we built yesterday."

"That’s the point."

"What stops it from getting stuck?"

"Tolerance."

Hadrik had looked at him.

"Another one of those words from your world."

"The precise amount of space between two fitted parts."

"That’s called making them the right size."

Raven had decided not to continue the argument.

The first projectile was considerably heavier than an Earth rifle bullet.

That was deliberate.

He didn’t know exactly how much acceleration the Pulse Core would produce. A lighter projectile could reach excessive velocity, deform, or damage the barrel before Raven understood the system’s behavior.

A heavier projectile demanded more energy, but it should behave more predictably during an initial low-output test.

FORGE had evaluated the design.

[Experimental Projectile Detected.]

[Material: Hardened Steel.]

[Barrel Compatibility: 91%.]

[Ballistic Performance: UNKNOWN.]

[Recommended Mana Input: 12–18% Prototype Capacity.]

Raven chose twelve.

Valeria didn’t know that yet.

She would probably ask.

The quarry was exactly as abandoned as Maelor had promised.

A broad depression of gray stone sat between dry hills. The road ended several hundred meters short of the site, forcing them to leave the horses behind a rocky formation and continue on foot.

There were no buildings.

No workers.

No bells.

Raven stood still for almost a full minute and listened.

Wind moved through the quarry.

Birds called somewhere beyond the ridge.

Nothing moved beneath the ground.

Predation detected no relevant organisms nearby either.

Good.

Valeria walked to the quarry’s edge.

"How much distance do you need?"

"For the first target, one hundred meters."

She pointed toward the opposite wall.

"There’s more than that."

"I want to know what it does at one hundred before discovering what it does at three hundred."

"Surprisingly cautious."

"Don’t turn everything into commentary."

"That would eliminate most of my entertainment."

Raven opened the case.

The Prototype Rifle emerged into daylight.

It was still ugly.

A night had done nothing to improve that.

Dark Black Mithril. Hardened organic plates. Thin blue filaments. A rear section much bulkier than any modern rifle needed, and two angled exhaust ports designed to vent excess pressure.

Valeria watched it as though she still expected the weapon to decide to bite her.

Raven unfolded an improvised worktable onto a flat section of stone and began checking every system.

The Reservoir held its charge.

The Impulse Spark responded normally.

Connectors remained secure.

The Pressure Chamber showed no visible degradation.

The vents were clear.

The Pulse Core remained aligned.

The barrel was clean because nothing had ever traveled through it.

That was about to change.

Valeria moved closer.

Too close.

Raven looked up.

"Back."

She stopped.

"How far?"

"A lot."

"That doesn’t inspire confidence."

"It doesn’t inspire mine either."

Valeria glanced toward a rocky formation roughly twenty meters behind him.

"There?"

Raven judged the distance.

"Farther."

"Raven."

"The last test embedded a piece of metal in a wall."

"It was a small piece."

"The wall didn’t seem to appreciate the distinction."

Valeria walked another fifteen meters and positioned herself behind a large rock.

"Does this satisfy your paranoia?"

"A little."

"How romantic."

Raven ignored that.

He selected his target.

An isolated stone formation almost two meters tall stood near the center of the quarry. He didn’t want to fire directly into one of the surrounding quarry walls until he knew what the projectile would do after impact.

He painted a white mark near the center.

One hundred meters.

Easy.

In theory.

Raven had hit smaller targets at greater distances.

With calibrated weapons.

Known sights.

Predictable ballistics.

This rifle had none of those advantages.

Raven removed the first projectile from its box and inspected it.

There was nothing remarkable about it.

Just hardened steel.

But the moment he opened the manual breech and inserted it, FORGE reacted.

[Experimental Projectile Loaded.]

[Prototype Rifle Mk.I Ready for Initial Live-Fire Cycle.]

[Recommended Mana Input: 12%.]

Raven closed the mechanism.

The sound was strange.

Not the clean metallic click of a rifle from Earth.

There was metal, but beneath it came a faint organic contraction as the weapon’s internal systems recognized that something now occupied the barrel.

Raven settled the stock against his shoulder.

Heavy.

Too front-loaded.

The grip felt familiar.

That helped.

He aimed.

The upper sighting system was simple: two metal references aligned along the barrel.

No optic.

No calibration.

The stone target was large enough.

Raven inhaled.

Exhaled.

His finger settled against the trigger.

Valeria called from behind the rock.

"If you lose a hand, I’m going to tell you I warned you before I heal you."

Raven kept the sights aligned.

"Very reassuring."

"I only wanted to make sure you could still hear me."

His finger began applying pressure.

FORGE responded.

[Activation Cycle Initiated.]

Raven felt the rifle wake.

The Deepwell Reservoir released mana through its primary channel.

Blue light traveled through the biological filaments.

The Impulse Spark ignited.

A sharp electrical pulse reached Raven’s hand.

Then the Stormhorn Pulse Core contracted.

Pressure accumulated inside the weapon far faster than he had expected.

[Pressure Chamber Engaged.]

The trigger reached the end of its travel.

BOOM.

There was no flash of magical light.

No casting circle.

No visible fireball crossing the quarry.

Raven never even saw the projectile.

The stone simply exploded.

Its center disappeared as fragments blasted backward and sideways, followed by a rapidly expanding cloud of gray dust.

Raven might have enjoyed the result if the rifle hadn’t tried to destroy his arm at the same time.

The secondary discharge came a fraction too late.

A streak of blue mana erupted from the side of the frame.

Directly toward his forearm.

Stonehide activated on reflex.

CRACK.

The magical discharge slammed into the mineralized protection and traveled up toward his elbow.

Raven lost his firing stance.

The muzzle kicked upward, and one of the rear vents released an uneven burst that blasted dust from the ground behind him.

He released his support hand.

Not the rifle.

Raven stumbled back two steps.

Pain.

Heat.

The smell of scorched metal.

"Raven."

Valeria was already running toward him.

"I’m fine."

"I didn’t ask."

She reached him and grabbed his arm before he could pull it away.

Stonehide receded slowly.

The skin underneath was red, with two patches of superficial burns.

Nothing serious.

Predatory Regeneration was already responding.

Valeria looked at his arm.

Then the rifle.

Then back at his arm.

"That almost exploded in your face."

Raven looked toward the shattered rock one hundred meters away.

"But it fired."

Valeria closed her eyes.

"That wasn’t the part I was worried about."

Raven flexed his fingers.

Everything worked.

"It also didn’t explode."

"You have established an impressively low safety standard."

FORGE filled his vision.

[Live-Fire Cycle Completed.]

[Projectile Discharge: SUCCESS.]

[Structural Stress: 31%.]

[Pressure Vent Timing: INCORRECT.]

[Mana Discharge Leak Detected at Operator-Side Conduit.]

[Operator Injury: MINOR.]

Valeria recognized that he was reading something.

"What does it say?"

"Thirty-one percent structural stress."

"Is that a lot?"

"For one shot, yes."

"Anything else?"

Raven inspected the lateral conduit.

"The venting happened late. Part of the mana discharge found a secondary route into my arm."

Valeria folded her arms.

"So, to summarize: it fired, stressed almost a third of its structure, and decided you were also part of the circuit."

"It didn’t stress a third of the structure."

"Raven."

"Thirty-one percent structural stress is not the same as thirty-one percent structural failure."

Her expression flattened.

"I’m deeply comforted by the precision of that correction."

Raven looked back at the target.

The dust was beginning to clear.

The rock didn’t have a hole.

It was missing a section.

That mattered.

Far more energy had transferred into the target than Raven had expected from a twelve-percent firing cycle.

The projectile had probably deformed or fragmented on impact.

He would need to recover whatever remained of it.

But first came the rifle.

Raven opened the breech.

Hot.

Not intolerable.

The smell of heated biological tissue was considerably less pleasant than hot metal.

FORGE displayed the weapon’s internal condition.

[Core Systems: INTACT.]

[Thermal Accumulation: 19%.]

[Pressure Regulator Desynchronization Detected.]

[Secondary Conduit Insulation Compromised: 7%.]

Valeria read the answer from his expression.

"You’re not firing it again right now."

"No."

That seemed to surprise her.

"You agreed quickly."

Raven placed the rifle on the table.

"Because firing again without correcting the problem would be stupid."

"It’s reassuring that you can still recognize that."

Raven looked at the weapon.

The six systems had all functioned.

That was the good news.

The bad news was that functioning individually wasn’t the same as functioning correctly together.

Projectile Stabilization had kept the discharge aligned well enough for the shot to hit near center mass.

Recoil Regulation had prevented the rifle from tearing itself apart.

But the timing between the pressure response and the auxiliary mana network was still wrong under actual firing load.

The internal-cycle test hadn’t been able to reveal that.

Now Raven had real data.

Which meant he could fix it.

"I’m going to need your help."

Valeria blinked.

"That was quick too."

Raven pointed toward the rifle.

"I need to track the mana circulation during activation without completing another shot. You understand magical flow better than I do."

She looked at the weapon.

"And what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Tell me where the flow starts deviating before it reaches my arm."

Valeria smiled faintly.

"Asking for help before almost losing a limb. You really are growing."

Raven looked at her.

"You can go back behind the rock."

"I’m already going."