As Veronica infused her magic, rings of white magical light were injected into the optical instruments. Under the efforts of the witch apprentices, the Bright Magic Chariot was fully activated.
About two hundred meters away, there stood a target, over two meters tall, made of straw and tattered cloth fashioned into the shape of a knight.
With the wizards busy and charging, the eight copper mirrors lit up one after another. The enormous energy, continually compressed and focused, passed through the mirrors. The flashing light sphere gradually turned into a high-temperature white beam, the Soul Flame.
"Whoosh!" Before everyone, the beam shot out from the Bright Magic Chariot, leaving a long trajectory over a meter long under the scorching sun, hitting the target dead center.
"Boom!" Smoke and dust spread as Ryan and the others watched the target expectantly and moved closer.
The straw and cloth target was half burned and completely penetrated.
"Not bad." Ryan and the others nodded in approval. Ryan shouted to Veronica, "Is this the maximum range?"
"No, the maximum effective range is three hundred to four hundred meters. Beyond that, the beam's accuracy decreases, and the power drops," Veronica, standing on the Bright Magic Chariot, replied. "Four hundred meters is the maximum range. For better attack effects, two hundred to three hundred meters is optimal."
"Alright, let's try again!" Ryan signaled for the experiment to continue.
The soldiers brought new targets, placing them about three hundred meters away, this time covered in scale armor.
The Bright Magic Chariot activated again, the laser penetrating the target, leaving a charred, gaping hole, melting the scale armor with the Soul Flame.
"The power is alright, but the damage area is too small to deal with many enemies," observed Belegar, the King of Eight Peaks, nodding thoughtfully. "But our enemies are not made of straw and cloth; such power is far from enough."
"Let's continue," Ryan suggested, signaling the soldiers to bring new targets.
"Yes, my lord." The soldiers withdrew and brought a smaller target.
This target no longer had the shape of a knight on horseback, just a human height figure clad in chain mail, a breastplate, and a helmet—standard knightly equipment. Not every Bretonnian knight could afford full plate armor; most wore chain mail plus a breastplate and bracers, along with a lance, sword, and shield.
"The Bright Magic Chariot isn't designed for large groups of enemies. It's more for sniping enemy commanders and large units," Ryan explained, signaling everyone to step back.
The Bright Magic Chariot activated once more, a powerful beam shooting from the optical instrument, cutting through the summer air.
"Boom!"
Everyone gathered around again.
This time, the beam didn't just melt half the target. The Soul Flame pierced through the breastplate, the chain mail beneath, the cloth, and the straw, leaving a trail of molten iron.
Perfectly pierced, everyone realized the enormous power of this war machine. If it could perfectly penetrate standard knight equipment, it could almost certainly penetrate most formidable foes in the Old World!
Olivier's face showed a hint of pain—this was a complete set of standard knight equipment, burned through in an experiment.
"Hmm, such a powerful war machine is usable," Belegar conceded, though he immediately raised another issue. "But what about ammunition supply? How many times can your court sorceress fire such beams? And what if they face agile monsters? The Bright Magic Chariot is a large target; what if it gets focused on? How long can it last?"
Ryan thought Belegar was indeed a brilliant warrior and siege master. His questions were sharp, hitting the core issues. If the Bright Magic Chariot were just a large mobile cannon, it might be better suited for defending wizard towers rather than actual combat due to its large target and vulnerability to concentrated attacks. If it could only fire a few times before becoming inoperable, it would be less useful than Dwarf cannons and organ guns.
Dwarfs didn't use magic, but they were not ignorant of it; their runes were an application of magic.
Ryan couldn't answer these questions. He was a warrior after all. After completing part of the experiment, he gestured to Veronica, who was standing on the Bright Magic Chariot, to come down and explain.
Having finished continuously releasing Soul Flames, Veronica strode down from the chariot, feeling quite proud. She glanced at the displeased sorceress Teresa before explaining to Belegar.
"The Bright Magic Chariot can overload up to twelve times in a short period. Beyond that, the magic array and optical instruments will automatically enter self-protection mode and cease functioning," Veronica explained first. "Twelve powerful Soul Flame beams are enough for a battlefield."
"Regarding defense, the chariot's body is engraved with defensive arrays to withstand most ranged attacks. When pulled by four warhorses, this war machine can move quickly enough to avoid being surrounded or besieged."
"What about fast-moving enemies?" Belegar asked next.
"Watch this." Veronica snapped her fingers, signaling the soldiers to bring out an iron cage.
"What's that?" Armand, the Holy Grail Knight, looked closely. Inside the iron cage was a wild boar.
"Oink, oink!" The boar squealed loudly, hitting the bars with force, making clear sounds.
"Mr. Lopes, please open the cage," Veronica ordered.
"Ah? Why? A wild boar let loose would cause quite a bit of trouble," Lopes, who wasn't wearing armor, hesitated. Knights rarely wore full armor unless on duty.
"You don't need to know why, just do as I say, Mr. Lopes~" Veronica's sweet smile turned cold. "Do I need to ask nicely?"
"Alright, if you insist." Lopes shrugged, muttering, "That's why I hate Garland Council women—they always order people around without explaining why."
Ryan frowned slightly but sighed. Veronica was adept at leveraging her position. Since becoming the court sorceress, she naturally began commanding Ryan's subordinates. In this feudal and noble system, she had, to some extent, inherited part of Ryan's authority.
Unlike Veronica, Teresa disdained such behavior, rarely interacting with Ryan's subordinates, focusing solely on her wizard tower and magical research.
Taking the key, Lopes opened the lock and indicated for everyone to be cautious before pulling the iron door open.
"Roar! Roar, roar, roar!~~~~" The boar, sensing its freedom, roared and charged towards the target, where a large basin of water and many acorns had been placed—its favorite food. Starved for a day, the boar excitedly dashed towards the food.
But ten meters away from the food, a shout stopped it.
"Amintok's Web!"
Catherine, the official witch on the Bright Magic Chariot, holding a magic book, activated a mechanism on the carriage with a shout, without any casting preparation.
Several light webs bound the boar tightly. No matter how it struggled, it couldn't break free.
"Oink, oink!" The strong boar, weighing several hundred pounds with big tusks, thrashed and foamed, but the light webs held firm.
After a minute, then two, it remained bound, unable to move.
"Amintok's Web (Enhanced), this Bright Magic spell is bound to the carriage's magic array," Veronica explained proudly. "My enhanced Amintok's Web can suppress any large beast unless it has high magic resistance, like a true dragon. We tested it on Ryan; even he was bound for three seconds."
"Oh~ that's impressive," Belegar finally got a satisfactory answer. Drinking Bagman black beer, he mumbled, "You learned quite a bit from the dwarfs."
Saying that, Belegar took out a small notebook and scribbled furiously.
"Dwarven Calendar D.C. 5508, X month X day, these damned Bretonnian knights and chivalry syndrome patients didn't listen to me seriously and secretly called me long-winded. I'll remember this."
After thinking for a moment, Belegar crossed out the sentence and added, "But since Ryan and Veronica showed me their powerful war machine, I'll let it go this time."
Putting away the notebook, Belegar's face turned serious as he approached Ryan. "Brother Ryan, if it works as you say, it's a great asset for war, especially against enemy leaders and monsters. Can you get more?"
"A bit difficult," Ryan shook his head. "The Bright Magic Chariot is the Empire's strategic reserve. Their productivity is very low, taking two to three years to produce one. Emperor Karl Franz's special order allowed me to get one."
"That's a pity." Belegar nodded understandingly. "If dwarfs knew magic, I could have my engineers inspect it and see if it could be replicated."
"Impossible. I tried to open the internal mechanism, but the Bright Wizard Academy's wards would destroy it instantly, reducing it to scrap metal," Veronica explained. "Besides, the chariot's creation likely involves High Elf secrets. Our magical knowledge is only a fraction of theirs, making replication impossible."
"Those arrogant elves are always like that. Dwarfs are the most reliable," Belegar grumbled. "Before your human era, we dwarfs severed ties with the elves. They're too arrogant, always thinking they're the world's masters. Humans are more reliable, especially friends like Ryan. If I weren't focused on reclaiming Eight Peaks, I'd invite him to adventure with me. We lost a famous fortress, Karak-Varn, rich in meteoric iron, in the southern World's Edge Mountains..."
Ryan smiled, nodding as he listened to Belegar's rambling. His patience and attentiveness pleased Belegar, who thought Ryan was a perfect friend for dwarfs
. While being invited to dinner, Belegar thought he must record this later.
Unknown to Belegar, Ryan's surface attentiveness masked thoughts of the evening's activities with Teresa.
Meanwhile, in the Old World, at the Empire-Bretonnia border, Grey Mountains, Blackstone Stronghold.
The necromancer Heinrich Kemmler led his Tomb Guard back to his fortress, once a strong dwarven stronghold, now a haven for the undead.
Following Kemmler was a new addition, a Chaos Champion of the Four Gods, Krell. This towering figure, over two meters tall, wielding a black jagged great axe and clad in blood-red cursed armor, led a squad of undead Chaos Chosen, eternally craving slaughter and blood.
Krell constantly urged Kemmler to march on human lands, bringing ruin to those ignorant of "civilization." Sometimes, Kemmler doubted his control over Krell, but for now, the necromancer's commands held.
Suspiciously eyeing Krell, Kemmler sat on his throne of gold and bones, pondering his next move—attacking Montfort Castle or marching south to Bastonne?
Regardless, the summer season was unsuitable for campaigns. The sun god Petra's power was strongest in summer; Kemmler and his undead needed to bide their time.
"Master, a messenger has arrived at Blackstone Stronghold, seeking an audience," Krell approached, carrying a message.
"From where? Manfred?" Kemmler screeched.
"From Mousillon, a Blood Knight of the Blood Dragon family," Krell rasped. "He brings gifts and goodwill from Duke Mashubad, seeking an alliance against Bretonnian knights."
"...Let him in!"
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