Chapter 157: PS Bonus: I Let Valeria Fire My Rifle

They bought a simple lunch at the market: warm bread, spiced meat, dried fruit, and, after Valeria found a stall selling pastries glazed with honey, considerably more sugar than Raven thought necessary.

He chose not to comment.

A short while later, the three of them were sitting around an outdoor table with plates pushed between three unfolded maps. One showed Kharad and the surrounding roads, another covered a broader section of eastern Asteria, and the third was a merchant map marked with outposts, wells, inns, and commonly used caravan routes.

Roland pointed at one road with a greasy finger.

"This one."

Raven looked at it.

"Why?"

"It’s the shortest."

Valeria answered immediately.

"It also has two inns marked as ’temporary.’"

"So?"

"I’ve learned that ’temporary’ means one room, six miners, and a man cooking something that stopped being identifiable sometime the previous week."

Roland took another piece of bread.

"We still save almost a full day."

"I’d rather lose a day."

Raven studied both routes.

"Neither."

They both looked at him.

Valeria frowned.

"Then what exactly were we arguing about?"

"Entertainment."

"Raven."

He pointed to a third route.

"This one passes two supply posts and a village with a smithy."

Roland leaned closer.

"It’s also longer than mine."

"Half a day."

"That’s still longer."

"I need ammunition materials."

Raven tapped the first point.

"Steel."

Then the second.

"Probably tools."

Then the third.

"And if something on the rifle fails, I’d rather be one day from a workshop than three."

Valeria examined the route.

"It also has inns."

"Yes."

She smiled.

"So you chose my criterion."

"No."

"It’s literally part of your route."

"Coincidence."

"Naturally."

Roland pointed farther along the map.

"Where are we actually going?"

That was the more important question.

Until Kharad, the journey had possessed a clear direction. Raven had needed to finish the rifle and obtain the final component required to make the design work.

That objective was complete now.

Not finished.

But complete.

Raven had to decide what came next.

They could return toward Greyhaven, but he saw no immediate benefit. They could continue toward the roads closer to the eastern border, where trade was heavier and useful materials would be easier to find, though increased traffic also meant increased attention.

There were older problems as well.

Soren Vhal.

Transfer Station Four.

The buyers.

The people capable of trafficking Bloodlines, creatures, and living subjects as commodities.

None of that had disappeared simply because Raven had finished building a rifle.

But chasing every available lead the moment it appeared wasn’t necessary either.

For the first time in weeks, they had room to breathe.

Raven looked down at the map.

"South first."

Roland followed the route.

"To Marden?"

"Not yet."

"Then where?"

"There are several posts between here and the major roads. We resupply, test the rifle under controlled conditions, and listen to what’s happening in the region before deciding."

Valeria picked up a piece of fruit.

"That almost sounds like normal travel."

"Don’t use that word. It tends to provoke things."

Roland laughed.

"And after that?"

Raven folded one corner of the map under a cup to keep the wind from catching it.

"Then we decide with actual information."

They didn’t need to mentally teleport themselves toward the next major objective.

Kharad had already cost them several days, and the rifle needed more work before Raven would trust it in a serious fight. They also needed money, food, replacement parts, rested horses, and information about the roads ahead.

And Raven, though he had no intention of saying it aloud, wasn’t entirely opposed to spending a few days without having to kill something Elite.

Valeria looked at his plate.

"You finished all of it?"

Raven looked down.

He had.

"Why?"

"Nothing."

"Valeria."

She smiled.

"I’m proud of you."

"I’m going to stop eating in front of you."

"That would only prove my point."

They returned to the quarry that afternoon.

They could have waited until the next day, but Raven had no interest in doing that while the rifle’s calibration remained at eighteen percent.

He found the number offensive.

This time they brought four projectiles, each slightly more consistent than the first two thanks to Hadrik’s work.

Raven set up three targets: a metal plate at one hundred meters, a painted stone at one hundred fifty, and a wooden board marked with black lines at two hundred.

Valeria studied the last one.

"Can you hit it?"

"Yes."

"That answer came too quickly."

"I can hit it with a calibrated rifle."

"Ah."

"This one isn’t calibrated."

"That sounds more realistic."

Raven prepared the weapon.

The first shot was at one hundred meters.

BOOM.

The sound was still strange.

No matter how many times he heard it, the rifle didn’t sound exactly like any weapon from Earth. There was the sharp detonation produced by released pressure, but beneath it came a second, deeper tone—almost organic—as the Pressure Chamber discharged.

The projectile struck the plate.

High.

Left.

Raven wrote it down. ℯ

FORGE did the same.

[Calibration Data Acquired.]

[Calibration: 18% → 23%.]

Second shot.

One hundred fifty meters.

They waited for the weapon to cool partially.

Raven adjusted the crude sights.

Loaded.

Fired.

BOOM.

The round struck the stone only a few centimeters from the expected point of impact.

[Calibration: 23% → 29%.]

Better.

The third projectile remained inside its case.

Raven was inspecting the rifle when he heard footsteps behind him.

Valeria wasn’t looking at the target.

She was looking at the weapon.

Raven said, "No."

She raised her eyebrows.

"I didn’t even ask."

"You were looking at the rifle."

"That still isn’t a question."

"I know that look."

"How presumptuous."

Raven continued checking the action.

"You want to fire it."

Valeria remained silent for two seconds.

"Yes."

"No."

"Why?"

"You don’t know how to use it."

"I didn’t know how to dance like a Dunvar noble until someone taught me."

Raven looked up.

"You taught me."

"Exactly. We can return the favor."

"They aren’t equivalent skills."

"One of them was more dangerous."

"Dancing?"

"For your social reputation, yes."

Raven shook his head.

Valeria stepped closer to the rifle.

"Reduced charge."

Raven stopped.

She had learned too much by listening to him.

"Five percent."

"Accepted."

"I didn’t say yes."

"But you already chose the charge."

Raven looked at her.

Valeria smiled.

He had made a mistake.

"Once."

"Of course."

"You aim at nothing except the target." ℯ

"Raven."

"You do not put your finger inside the trigger guard until you’re ready."

"I understand the concept of a trigger."

"Don’t assume it works exactly like—"

"Raven."

He stopped.

Valeria held out one hand.

"Give me the weapon."

Raven seriously considered refusing.

Then he remembered that Valeria had spent weeks helping him acquire the components, had nearly bled herself unconscious keeping his circulation stable during the fight with the Matriarch, and had spent a significant amount of time inside the workshop during assembly.

Besides, a reduced charge carried an acceptable level of risk.

He handed her the rifle.

Valeria nearly lowered the muzzle immediately.

"It’s heavy."

"I told you."

"You said ’too heavy.’ You didn’t say ’apparently designed by someone who hates shoulders.’"

"The weight distribution needs work."

She tried to seat the stock.

Wrong.

Raven shook his head.

"Not like that."

"I haven’t done anything yet."

"Exactly."

He stepped closer.

"Left foot forward."

Valeria moved it.

Not enough.

Raven used his boot to indicate the proper position.

"More."

She adjusted.

"Bend your knees slightly."

"Are you teaching me how to stand now?"

"If you want to fire without letting the rifle move you more than necessary, yes."

"I’m Level Twenty-Nine."

"The rifle doesn’t know that."

"How rude."

Raven took the stock and placed it against the correct part of her shoulder.

"Here."

Then he adjusted her left hand beneath the forward section.

"Don’t try to hold all the weight with your arms. Pull it into your body."

Valeria obeyed.

Raven touched her shoulder and shifted it slightly.

"Lean forward a little."

She turned her head.

They were close.

Raven hadn’t thought about it until that moment.

Valeria had.

Her smile appeared immediately.

"You’re touching me quite a lot for someone who refused to let me shoot a minute ago."

Raven adjusted her elbow.

"I’m making sure the rifle doesn’t hit you incorrectly."

"You could have started with that."

"I did."

"Not in an interesting way."

"Focus."

Valeria smiled wider.

Raven moved behind and slightly to one side.

"Look through the upper sights."

"I can see them."

"Center the front reference inside the rear."

"That is what I’m doing."

"Don’t hold your breath for too long. Exhale, pause naturally, then apply steady pressure to the trigger."

Valeria shifted the rifle slightly.

"Like this?"

"Better."

"That sounded painful for you."

"I can take it back."

"No."

Raven almost smiled.

"Fine. Recoil will be lower because we’re using a reduced charge, but it still pushes harder than a normal weapon from my world. Don’t fight it after the shot. Keep your stance and let your body absorb the force."

Valeria looked toward the target at one hundred meters.

"And if I miss?"

"You’ll miss... and we’ll lose more money."

"That is surprisingly motivating."

Raven loaded the projectile.

Reduced the Reservoir output.

FORGE confirmed the settings.

[Training Discharge.]

[Mana Input: 5%.]

[Structural Risk: LOW.]

[Ballistic Performance: REDUCED.]

Raven stepped back.

"Whenever you’re ready."

Valeria breathed.

The rifle began to glow.