Morning arrived cold and gray over Elarion.

The snow had stopped during the night, leaving the entire valley buried beneath a clean white silence broken only by distant hammering from the western workshops and the occasional roar of furnace flames.

Raven stood near the upper market road with gloved hands tucked beneath his cloak while watching soldiers move through the lower training grounds below.

At first glance, it looked ordinary.

Winter drills.

Formation practice.

Northern discipline.

Then the rifles appeared.

And the atmosphere changed immediately.

Rows of armed men marched into the snow-covered field carrying long rifled weapons across their shoulders while Malen walked slowly along the formation line like a predator inspecting prey.

Even from a distance, Raven could feel the difference between these soldiers and ordinary guards.

They moved carefully.

Measured.

Not knights.

Not militia either.

Something new.

A young northern guard noticed Raven watching from the roadside and laughed quietly.

"First time seeing the marksmen?"

Raven forced an amused smile.

"The whole settlement keeps talking about them."

"That’s because they’re insane."

The guard sounded strangely proud while saying it.

Below them, Malen suddenly barked:

"Formation!" 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

The riflemen moved instantly.

No hesitation.

Boots crushed deep snow as the soldiers shifted into firing positions across the field while assistants moved behind them carrying powder satchels and ammunition boxes.

Raven narrowed his eyes slightly.

Assistants too.

Organized logistics.

Interesting.

The guard beside him folded his arms against the cold.

"Three weeks ago half of them couldn’t even load properly."

"And now?"

The guard watched the formation below with visible admiration.

"Now they hit targets farther than most archers can even see."

That bothered Raven more than he expected.

Because rumors exaggerated.

Reality usually disappointed.

Yet Elarion somehow kept proving worse than the rumors.

Far below, Malen walked slowly between the lines.

"Steady your breathing."

No one spoke.

Cold wind swept through the valley while distant furnace smoke drifted across the mountains.

"Rifles are not swords," Malen continued calmly. "You do not fight emotion with them."

One soldier adjusted his grip slightly.

Malen stopped instantly beside him.

"You’re anticipating recoil."

"...Sorry, sir."

"If you fear the weapon, it becomes useless."

The Peak Knight crouched beside the nervous marksman before adjusting the man’s shoulder position himself.

"Again."

Raven studied the soldiers carefully afterward.

And finally noticed something deeply unusual.

Mixed ranks.

Some riflemen wore light noble armor.

Others clearly came from common backgrounds.

One still had miner calluses across both hands.

Yet they trained together.

No separation.

No visible hierarchy.

That alone would terrify southern nobles if word spread properly.

A commoner with a rifle could kill armored cavalry from impossible distance.

And Lucien was training them deliberately.

The field suddenly erupted with sound.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Thunder rolled across the valley as the first firing line unleashed synchronized rifle fire toward distant targets.

Snow burst upward near impact zones far across the field.

Raven blinked slowly.

The range was absurd.

Even nearby workers stopped briefly to watch.

A second volley followed moments later.

Then a third.

Disciplined.

Controlled.

Not experimental anymore.

Military.

A quiet voice suddenly spoke beside Raven.

"Loud, aren’t they?"

Raven turned calmly.

Cedric stood nearby wrapped in a heavy winter cloak with snow across one shoulder and a steaming cup in hand.

The knight looked toward the firing lines below.

"Scared the hell out of the horses the first week."

Raven smiled slightly.

"I can imagine."

Cedric took another sip before continuing casually.

"The dwarves are still arguing over barrel quality."

"Are they improving?"

"Depends which dwarf you ask."

Another thunderous volley echoed through the valley.

Cedric glanced toward the soldiers again.

"They’re getting faster."

Raven noticed it too.

The reload timing had improved dramatically.

Powder.

Ramrod.

Aim.

Fire.

Still slower than bows.

But far deadlier.

The disguised spy kept his voice careful.

"Do you truly think rifles can replace knights?"

Cedric laughed softly.

"No."

The answer surprised Raven slightly.

Then Cedric continued:

"But they don’t need to replace knights to change battlefields."

That answer was much worse.

Below them, Malen suddenly raised one arm.

The firing stopped instantly.

Silence returned across the valley.

Then the Peak Knight pointed toward the distant targets.

"Retrieve them."

Several soldiers jogged through the snow while the rest remained disciplined in formation.

A few moments later the damaged armor plates were brought back.

Raven’s eyes narrowed immediately.

Direct penetrations.

Even at that range.

One nearby marksman whispered quietly:

"...Gods."

The miner-turned-rifleman standing beside him grinned proudly.

"Told you."

Malen overheard instantly.

"This is not entertainment."

Both men immediately straightened.

"Yes, sir."

The Peak Knight looked across the formation afterward.

"Never forget what these weapons are for."

The atmosphere cooled slightly.

Because everyone there understood the implication.

These rifles were made to kill people.

Not targets.

Not armor plates.

People.

Raven quietly watched the soldiers again.

The discipline impressed him more than the weapons.

Lucien wasn’t simply building firearms.

He was building doctrine around them.

That required vision.

Which made the prince’s concerns increasingly justified.

Suddenly a loud argument erupted from near the western workshop road.

Everyone turned instinctively.

One dwarf stormed across the snow carrying a rifle scope tube while Gandalf followed behind him yelling angrily.

"The crystal alignment was correct!"

"It exploded!"

"That does not automatically mean it failed!"

"IT CAUGHT FIRE!"

The soldiers nearby immediately started laughing.

Even Cedric rubbed his forehead tiredly.

Raven frowned slightly.

"...Scope?"

Cedric sighed deeply.

"You’re going to hear rumors eventually anyway."

The knight pointed toward the metal tube in the dwarf’s hands.

"They’re trying to improve long-range sighting."

For the first time since entering Elarion—

Raven genuinely felt uneasy.

Not because of the rifles.

Not because of the dragon.

Because the people here kept innovating faster than expected.

Every week Elarion became more dangerous than the last.

And somewhere deep inside the snowy fortress beyond the training grounds—

Lucien Valcroix was still building.