The mood on the drive back to the ruined castle was jubilant. The weapon had worked far beyond anything that they had hoped for, and even a few seconds would have been enough to wipe out the camp around the oil rig.
If each of their villages had a few of those, plus enchanted ammunition for the scouts' rifles, they could deal with anything that the Grand Dutchies sent their way this winter during the predicted offensive.
But the older Demons had a few more questions for Wolfe.
"Why the sudden rush to get everyone on board with your vision? You could establish a name for yourself over a few more winters, and then none of this would be necessary.
Once the word spreads that a powerful Magi protects your side of the Frozen Wastes, there would be hundreds of village leaders flocking to you, begging for protection with much better terms." The Demon reminded him.
