Chapter 178: They Learned Sixty Meters Wasn’t Far Enough

Valeria folded her arms.

"What do we do with them?"

Raven looked at the seven survivors.

He could kill them.

That would be simple, but not particularly useful. It would also strengthen far worse rumors if someone eventually found seven additional bodies scattered along the road.

"We take them to the next post."

Roland checked the distance marked on the map.

"That’ll slow us down."

"A little."

"Why not take their horses and make them walk?"

Derek visibly paled.

Raven considered it for a moment.

"Because I want them to talk."

The mercenary looked at him.

"What?"

"When you meet other mercenaries, I want you to explain exactly what happened here."

Valeria’s smile developed slowly.

She understood first.

Roland took a little longer.

"Oh."

Raven lifted the Mk.I slightly.

"I want them to know distance doesn’t protect them. I also want them to know I didn’t have to chase anyone."

"That story is going to grow quite a bit when they repeat it," Valeria said.

"Yes."

"Two days ago, you hated rumors."

"I still hate them."

"But now you want one."

"I want one specific rumor."

Roland laughed.

"That is disturbingly efficient."

Raven looked at Derek.

"You can help."

"How?"

"Tell the truth."

Derek glanced toward the body of his former leader.

"And if nobody asks?"

"They will."

Raven had no doubt about that.

---

They resumed traveling an hour later.

More slowly.

Seven disarmed bounty hunters were an inconvenient burden, but they were also information that could walk.

Raven rode near the front.

Valeria brought her horse alongside his.

"You’re using reputation as a weapon."

"Not exactly."

"You shot one man to convince seven others."

"I shot him because he was about to attack."

"And then you reloaded very slowly in front of everyone."

Raven looked at her.

"I needed to reload."

"You could have done it behind cover."

"There was no need."

Valeria smiled.

"Exactly."

Raven said nothing.

She was right.

Not about all of it.

But once he saw how completely the first shot changed the group’s behavior, he understood the value of making the reload visible.

Most people understood the limits of familiar weapons. They knew what a bow could reach, how long many forms of magic took to prepare, how quickly a swordsman could close distance, and when running became a reasonable option.

The Mk.I removed those references.

That created uncertainty.

Uncertainty created fear.

And fear could end a fight without consuming another projectile.

For a weapon this expensive to operate, that was almost another function.

FORGE responded.

[Behavioral Combat Observation Registered.]

Raven raised an eyebrow.

No Skill.

No reward.

Just recognition.

["PROTOTYPE RIFLE Mk.I" Tactical Application Expanded.]

[Observed Effect: Threat Projection Beyond Established Engagement Expectations.]

Raven almost smiled.

Valeria noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No."

Raven looked at her.

"FORGE is learning."

"What did it learn?"

"That sometimes one shot works on the other seven."

Valeria glanced toward the prisoners following behind them.

"That sounds like something you already knew."

Raven thought about Earth.

Suppression.

Deterrence.

Range superiority.

Control of space.

Yes.

He knew the principle.

He was simply relearning how to apply it in a world where the sight of a rifle meant nothing yet.

"It works better here."

"Why?"

"They don’t know what it can do."

Valeria glanced toward the case.

"That won’t last forever."

"I know."

That was the other side of it.

Every shot taught Raven something.

It also taught the world.

---

They reached the next roadside post before sunset.

It was smaller than South Relay, consisting of a single main building, a stable, and a shared office used by both the road guard and the Mercenary House.

The man in charge stepped outside when he saw ten people approaching.

Then he noticed that seven of them were tied.

"What happened?"

Roland answered first.

"Administrative problem."

Raven dismounted.

"They tried to collect an unofficial bounty."

The officer looked toward the prisoners.

"On you?"

"Yes."

"Casualties?"

"One."

"Who?"

Derek answered before Raven could.

"Harris Cole."

The officer frowned.

He recognized the name.

"Cole from Red Marsh Company?"

"Formerly."

"That man was Silver."

Raven didn’t know whether he meant Mercenary House license rank or an internal company classification.

It didn’t matter.

The officer looked back at him.

"You killed him?"

"Yes."

"By yourself?"

Valeria answered.

"From roughly sixty meters."

The officer looked for Raven’s bow.

There wasn’t one.

Then his eyes went to the sword.

Finally, the long case.

"Ah."

Roland smiled.

The seven bounty hunters were taken inside.

Not specifically for attempted murder. That would require a proper investigation.

But ambushing registered mercenaries on a commercial road and attempting to enforce an unauthorized bounty were more than enough to justify temporary detention.

Raven handed over the relevant documents.

Not all of them.

He kept a copy of the ecclesiastical notice.

The clerk at the post read the original.

"This isn’t a bounty."

"I know."

"It’s only an inquiry."

"I know."

"So someone is using the Church seal to inflate private offers."

"Yes."

She shook her head.

"Idiots."

Raven agreed.

The problem was that idiots could multiply.

---

That night, they rented one large room because the post didn’t have enough available space for three separate ones.

Roland claimed the small bed before anyone could argue.

Valeria took the other.

Raven decided to sleep near the window.

He had survived worse arrangements.

The copied Church notice rested on the table between them.

They read it again.

Valeria sat with her legs crossed.

"’Potentially heretical construction.’"

"Yes."

"Specifically the construction."

"Yes."

"Not you."

"Yet."

Roland was cleaning his bow.

"You keep saying that."

Raven indicated the document.

"Because that’s how this works."

"It could also mean they only want to examine the rifle."

"It could."

Valeria watched him.

"But you don’t believe that."

"I think that if they understand what FORGE actually does, the rifle will become the least important part."

The room went quiet.

That was obvious to all three of them.

The Mk.I was impressive.

But it was only one application.

FORGE had taken biological and material functions from completely different sources—the Arc Needle Queen’s Impulse Spark, a Deepwell Reservoir, Black Mithril, the Stormhorn Pulse Core, the Blastback Pressure Chamber—and engineered them into six cooperating systems inside an artificial weapon.

If the Church considered that integration potentially heretical, Raven didn’t need much imagination to guess what they might think about him.

Predator’s Instinct.

Stonehide.

Ember Spark.

Burst Step.

Kinetic Acceleration.

Toxin Adaptation.

Predatory Regeneration.

Traits originating from entirely different species.

Some of them human.

Valeria spoke first.

"They don’t know that yet."

"No."

"Then don’t tell them."

Roland looked up.

"That sounds surprisingly simple."

Raven looked back at the notice.

"Until they want to verify it."

Valeria’s expression hardened.

"You have no obligation to let the Church examine your body."

Raven raised an eyebrow.

"Would they agree?"

"Probably not."

"Then we’re back to the problem."

Valeria didn’t answer.

Raven folded the document.

"The important part is that the inquiry is no longer limited to the weapon."

"How do you know?"

Raven pointed to a lower section.

[Subject Displays Anomalous Multi-Disciplinary Biological Capabilities.]

It didn’t specify which ones.

But someone had been collecting reports.

Greyhaven.

Sablewood.

Dunvar.

Kharad.

Too many witnesses.

Too many pieces.

Valeria read the line.

"That wasn’t in the Arven copy."

"This one appears newer."

"Then they’re updating it."

"Yes."

Roland set his bow aside.

"How long before someone from the Church catches up with us?"

Raven thought about routes, travel speed, dates, and how quickly official couriers seemed to move.

He didn’t know about Elise.

He didn’t know who was coming.

But someone almost certainly was.

"Not long."

Valeria leaned back against the wall.

"We could move faster."

Raven shook his head.

"That would look like running."

"Does that matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because there still isn’t an arrest order. If we start avoiding towns, changing roads, and disappearing every time we see a temple, someone will interpret the behavior for us."

Roland smiled without humor.

"Guilty."

"Exactly."

Valeria watched Raven for another moment.

"So we keep traveling normally."

"As normally as possible."

"You travel with a rifle made from monsters."

"I said as normally as possible."

That earned a small smile.

---

The bounty hunters were still being held the following morning.

Derek asked to speak with Raven before they left.

Raven agreed.

Not out of courtesy.

Curiosity.

Derek sat behind a table inside the office, unarmed and watched by two guards.

Raven remained standing.

"What?"

Derek glanced toward the rifle case.

"Cole thought the Wyvern story was a lie."

Raven said nothing.

"He thought people exaggerated it. That Lady Nacht had actually killed the creature and you used some artifact afterward."

Valeria wasn’t present.

Probably for the best.

"He was wrong."

"Yes."

Derek rubbed a hand over his face.

"More people are going to come."

"I know."

"Even if I tell everyone what happened."

"I know that too."

Derek frowned.

"Then why do you want me talking?"

Raven looked at him.

"So the smarter ones don’t come."

The mercenary gave a dry laugh.

"That leaves the stupid ones."

"They’re easier."

Derek shook his head.

"You’re a bastard."

"That isn’t relevant."

"You know what the worst part is?"

Raven waited.

Derek looked toward the case.

"I still don’t know what distance would have been safe."

Raven said nothing.

That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"With an archer, you see the bow and the draw. You know roughly what it can do. A mage starts gathering mana, and at least you know when you should start running."

He pointed toward the rifle case.

"With that... Cole was sixty meters away, and he was dead before he understood what you’d done."

Raven nodded once.

Derek looked up.

"How far can it reach?"

A very slight smile touched Raven’s mouth.

"Farther."

Derek stopped asking questions.

---

They left half an hour later.

The eastern road continued ahead while Arven Crossing and the roadside post disappeared behind them.

The ecclesiastical notice traveled with Raven now.

Not forgotten.

Not filed away.

Close.

Valeria rode beside him while Roland remained several meters ahead.

For the moment, the morning was quiet.

Valeria eventually spoke.

"’Farther.’"

Raven looked at her.

"What?"

"When he asked about the range."

"It was true."

"You answered absolutely nothing."

"Also true."

"And now he’s going to tell people your weapon can kill them from some unknowable distance."

Raven looked down the road.

"Good."

"You’re getting comfortable with rumors."

"Some of them."

"Thunder Bow?"

"No."

"Black Cannon?"

"No."

"Monster Gun?"

"Worse."

"The stick that kills Wyverns."

Raven looked at her.

Valeria smiled.

"Still my favorite."

Raven continued riding.

"The Church called the Mk.I a potentially heretical construction."

Her smile faded.

"Yes."

"That worries me more than any nickname."

Valeria was quiet for a moment.

"Because it means they don’t only want to know what it does."

"They want to know what it is."

"And how it exists."

"Yes."

The rifle was visible.

FORGE wasn’t.

But if someone kept pulling on that thread long enough, eventually they would reach Raven himself.

It didn’t have to happen today.

Or tomorrow.

But it was coming.

Predator’s Instinct detected nothing dangerous nearby.

The road remained empty.

Raven looked ahead.

For the first time since completing the Mk.I, he fully understood that its greatest advantage might not simply be the ability to kill something from farther away.

A rifle changed distance.

It changed decisions.

It changed how much risk an enemy thought they were taking.

And now it was changing how entire institutions perceived him.

Raven pulled out the copied notice one more time while his horse walked.

The line was still there.

[Particular Interest: Recovery, Observation, or Documentation of Potentially Heretical Biological Construction.]

Not Raven Ashford.

Not yet.

The weapon.

He folded the paper again.

Valeria looked at him.

"What are you thinking?"

Raven put the notice away.

"That the next person who comes after me might not be interested in a bounty."

"The Church?"

"Probably."

"And what will you do?"

Raven looked down the empty road.

"First, I’ll let them talk."

Valeria raised an eyebrow.

"That was surprisingly civilized."

"Then I’ll decide."

"There you are."

Raven almost smiled.

Far behind them, inside the post they had just left, seven mercenaries were already telling a story.

Not about Raven eating monsters.

Not about Valeria.

Not even about the Church.

They were talking about distance.

Sixty meters.

One thunderous sound.

One man dead.

A reload performed in full view.

And one question none of them had wanted to answer.

Who’s next?

For the first time since rumors of the rifle began spreading, Raven had no interest in stopping that version.