Chapter 173: Someone Made a Second Generation of My Rifle Before I Did

Valeria spoke once they were outside.

"That was fast."

"Yes."

"Do you want to change routes?"

Raven considered it.

"Not yet."

Roland raised an eyebrow. "Not yet?"

"There’s no order."

"The Church requested information about a weapon made from monster organs."

"Yes."

"In my experience, that usually doesn’t end with a congratulatory letter."

Valeria looked at Raven. "He has a point."

"I know."

Raven kept walking.

Changing routes immediately would send a message of its own: that he was afraid, that he was running, and that merely asking questions was enough to push him somewhere else.

Besides, he didn’t know who was coming.

Or whether anyone was coming at all.

"We continue until there’s a concrete reason to do otherwise."

Roland glanced toward a church visible at the opposite end of the street.

"That could become a concrete reason very quickly."

"Then we’ll react very quickly."

Valeria exhaled.

"I missed your optimism."

"I never had any."

"Exactly."

Elise reached the village of Hareth shortly before nightfall.

The local priest was waiting near the entrance.

Not because of Raven.

Something else had happened.

Elise understood that the moment she saw the torches.

Three men stood outside a house while a woman cried nearby. Black stains spread across part of one wall, and the air carried the wrong kind of smell.

Not blood.

Magical decay.

Elise dismounted.

"What happened?"

The priest looked visibly relieved to see her.

"I thought you wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow."

"We traveled quickly."

Halven glanced toward Elise.

She ignored him.

"What happened?"

The priest pointed toward a line of trees beyond the village.

"Something came out of the forest five days ago. It attacked animals first. Then a man. Yesterday, it tried to enter a house."

"Casualties?"

"Two dead."

Elise’s expression changed.

Not to anger.

To focus.

"The bodies?"

"Buried."

"Not yet. I want to examine them."

The priest hesitated.

"Saint Veyra—"

"If this is corruption, I need to know what kind."

The word carried no fear when Elise said it.

Only diagnosis.

She had learned very young that calling something a monster before understanding it could kill the wrong person.

She had also learned that waiting too long could kill someone else.

Those lessons were not contradictory.

Elise examined the black residue on the wall first, then the surviving victim.

Dark lines spread beneath the skin around the bite on his arm.

She placed one hand over the wound.

Golden light appeared.

The corruption reacted immediately.

It tried to climb.

Elise stopped it.

"This can be treated."

The man’s eyes filled with tears.

"Am I going to die?"

"Not if you do exactly what I tell you."

She took out a small blade and began cutting away the infected tissue.

The man screamed.

Elise didn’t look away.

"I know it hurts. Keep looking at me."

Golden light returned.

The black discoloration slowly withdrew.

Brother Halven prepared the bandages beside her.

"Corrupted beast," he said.

Elise nodded.

"Yes."

"Demonic?"

"Not necessarily."

"Then what?"

Elise looked toward the forest.

"We’ll know when we find it."

They didn’t wait for morning.

The creature had once been a deer.

Enough of its original shape remained to make that obvious: four legs, antlers, a narrow body.

Everything else was wrong.

Black fissures split across its torso and pulsed like external veins. A crystalline mass had grown around the spine, while every breath released thin streams of dark vapor.

Elise found it drinking from the body of a dead goat.

There was no attempt at conversation.

Not because she didn’t want one.

Because she recognized the absence.

There wasn’t enough consciousness left to save.

Mercy slid free of its sheath.

The blade began to glow.

The creature lifted its head and charged.

Level Eighteen.

Awakened.

It wasn’t a real threat to Elise.

She had no need to prove that.

She moved once.

Mercy cut through one front leg.

The corrupted deer collapsed and immediately tried to rise again.

Elise placed the tip of the sword against the center of the black crystalline mass.

"I’m sorry."

Mercy descended.

Golden light pierced the crystal.

The creature went still.

It didn’t scream for long.

That helped.

Brother Halven reached her several seconds later.

"Finished?"

Elise wiped the blade clean.

"Yes."

"Purified?"

She looked down at the corpse as the black mass slowly began to disintegrate.

"What was left of it."

Halven didn’t seem to notice the distinction.

Elise did.

She sheathed Mercy.

"Burn the body. Don’t let animals eat any part of it."

"Understood."

"And tomorrow morning, I’m checking the wounded man again."

Halven watched her.

"Raven Ashford is moving east."

Elise stopped.

"Confirmed?"

"A messenger arrived while we were here. He passed through Arven Crossing."

"Alone?"

"With Valeria von Nacht and a mercenary named Roland."

Elise nodded.

Closer.

Halven waited before asking, "Shouldn’t we continue tonight?"

Elise looked back toward the village.

"There’s a man with corruption in his arm."

"The local priest can handle him."

"I want to check him myself."

"Every day we wait—"

"Raven Ashford hasn’t attacked civilians."

Halven’s jaw tightened slightly.

"Yet."

Elise looked at him.

She disliked that word.

Not because she was naive.

Because it turned possibility into guilt before the act existed.

"We do not condemn someone for something they may do."

"I didn’t say condemn."

"No. But you thought it."

Halven didn’t answer.

Elise remained silent for a moment before speaking more softly.

"If we reach him already convinced that we know what he is, then we aren’t investigating. We’re only looking for an excuse to confirm a conclusion we made before meeting him."

Halven glanced toward the corrupted corpse.

"Sometimes waiting too long is dangerous."

"I know."

Elise looked at the creature too.

That was the difficult part.

Halven wasn’t entirely wrong.

Corruption could spread.

People could cross lines.

Strange powers could become worse things.

The Church existed, among other reasons, because some things genuinely did need to be destroyed.

Accepting that had never been the problem.

Knowing when was.

"We stay tonight," Elise decided. "We leave at dawn."

Halven accepted.

Not happily.

That was enough.

Raven spent the afternoon trying to purchase a tool that apparently had seven different names.

"I need something that holds a cylinder still while it rotates," he explained.

The artificer standing across from him pointed toward a metal assembly.

"Clamping mandrel."

Raven inspected it.

Too large.

"Smaller."

"Rotary collet."

The next one had three contact points.

Better.

"Can it hold pieces under two centimeters?"

"With an adapter."

"Do you have the adapter?"

"No."

Raven closed his eyes.

Valeria stood behind him.

"Would you like me to ask at another shop?"

"No."

"That sounded personal."

"I’ve spent an hour explaining a tool I could buy in five minutes on Earth."

"Perhaps people on Earth had more time to invent clear names."

Raven looked at her.

"No."

"No what?"

"The names were worse."

Valeria smiled.

"That makes me feel better."

Roland appeared carrying a bag.

"I found food for three days."

"Price?"

Roland gave him the number.

Raven nodded.

"Good."

"That’s all?"

"What were you expecting?"

"Recognition for negotiating."

"Did you negotiate?"

"Naturally."

"Then well done."

Roland blinked.

So did Valeria.

Raven frowned.

"What?"

Roland smiled.

"Nothing."

Raven pointed at Valeria.

"This is your fault."

"I didn’t do anything."

"Exactly like when you say ’nothing.’"

Roland laughed.

Raven ended up buying the wrong tool.

Not completely wrong.

He could modify it.

That was enough.

By evening, they found another imitation of the rifle.

This one was worse.

Someone had painted fake runes across a small crossbow and advertised it as:

[FOREIGN THUNDER WEAPON — SECOND GENERATION]

Raven didn’t even stop.

Valeria did.

"Second generation."

Raven kept walking.

"No."

"They’ve already surpassed you."

"No."

Roland checked the price.

"It’s cheaper too."

Raven turned around.

"It’s a crossbow."

"But second generation."

"Roland."

"Coming."

They left the market.

Raven now had steel, oil, tools, and enough materials to continue improving his ammunition. He had found almost everything he needed.

He had also confirmed three new problems.

The rumor was growing.

The Church was investigating.

And someone was already making money selling garbage inspired by his weapon without even knowing his name.

Valeria walked beside him.

"You could charge royalties."

"There is no possible way that sentence improves my day."

"I’m only trying to help."

"That’s the worrying part."