Demoness 2 - Chapter 56 - Artificing and Reports (Patreon)

Yolani surveyed the workshop, her eyes assessing the progress of each worker as they diligently crafted firearms.

The air hummed with focused energy, punctuated by the rhythmic sounds of metal being shaped and the occasional crackle of arcane energy.

She moved between the workstations, her steps purposeful and assured. At one bench, a young apprentice struggled to align the barrel of a musket.

Yolani paused, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Ease up on the pressure,” she advised, her voice calm and encouraging. “Let the wand guide the metal. Don’t force it.”

The apprentice nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his technique. Yolani watched approvingly as the barrel began to take shape under his renewed efforts.

In the corner, a group of workers toiled over the preparation of charcoal and sulfur, their faces streaked with sweat and grime.

Yolani approached them, inspecting the quality of the powders. “Excellent work,” she praised, scooping a handful of the fine black powder, and letting it sift through her fingers. “We’ll need more charcoal.”

Satisfied with the progress, Yolani returned to her personal workbench.

She laid out an array of tooling wands, each one meticulously crafted for a specific purpose. The wands gleamed in the workshop’s light, their intricate runes pulsing with latent power.

She selected a musket from the rack, its wooden stock smooth and worn from use.

With practiced movements, Yolani began to disassemble the weapon, her hands working deftly as she separated the barrel, lock, and stock.

Each piece was laid out before her, ready for inspection and refinement.

Yolani reached for the cutting wand, its tip glowing with a precise, blue light.

She held it aloft, poised to begin the delicate process of taking the musket apart.

Her mind raced with ideas for improvements as the original work came out, piece by piece.

Yolani’s fingers danced over the disassembled musket parts, her eyes scrutinizing every surface for imperfections.

She picked up the barrel, running a thumb along its length, feeling for any irregularities. Satisfied, she set it aside and turned her attention to the blank chunk of steel that would become the modified rifle’s innards.

Taking it in hand, Yolani scrutinized it, its surface gleaming under the workshop’s light.

She hefted the chunk in her palm, gauging its weight and density.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she envisioned the potential within the raw material.

Yolani selected a carving wand, its tip glowing with a soft, amber light. Setting her goggles down over her eyes, she got to work.

Wand met metal, and she focused her intent as she began to shape the material.

Her artifice tool hummed as it sliced through the metal like butter, leaving behind smooth, precise cuts.

Sparks flew as Yolani worked, the metal taking form under her skilled manipulations.

She carved out the rough shapes of the components she needed; each one perfectly sized to fit the musket’s new design. The air filled with the acrid scent of heated metal and the crackling of arcane energy.

When the cutting was down, she finished the components with a polishing. Then she turned her attention to the mana shard that would be the central piece for the weapon for Elania to dump her [Power] into.

Holding it up to the light, Yolani admired its prismatic brilliance. It was higher quality than the last one she had used and would allow her to increase the magazine capacity and muzzle velocity for Elania.

Considering what they were up again, that was definitely necessary, even if she had to reinforce the barrel with thicker bands. It wasn’t like the extra weight was going to bother Elania, either.

The crystal thrummed with latent energy as she carefully set the shard into the custom-designed housing, ensuring it was securely nestled within the intricately carved metal.

With a steady hand, Yolani reached for her etching wand.

Its tip glowed with a soft, blue light as she brought it to the surface of the housing.

Delicate runes began to take shape under her precise movements, each one imbued with arcane power.

The runes pulsed in sync with the mana shard, forming a complex network of energy pathways.

Yolani’s brow furrowed in concentration as she worked, her eyes focused on the intricate details of the housing. She carefully aligned the mana shard with the musket’s firing mechanism, ensuring a seamless connection between the arcane power source and the weapon’s internal components.

Next, Yolani turned her attention to the musket’s barrel.

She selected a reinforced alloy, and then a melding wand. The original barrel was of a lesser material, but she’d combine the two and they would take on the characteristics she wanted.

Shaping the metal was a joy, but melding it was a science. If she got the ratio wrong, there was every chance that barrel would simply fracture or explode on first use.

Thankfully, she didn’t get it wrong.

She cooled the metal with another wand without affecting the temper and then began to etch patterns on the inside of the barrel that would direct and amplify the velocity of the projectile while applying the spin that Elania had described for flight stabilization.

That was notoriously difficult, and Yolani grunted as she nearly missed a rune. Not being able to see anything until the etching glowed to [Mana Sight] while working on the inside of the barrel was a real pain.

She didn’t let the difficulty distract her from her principal goal.

She fitted the mana shard housing into the musket’s stock, aligning it with the firing mechanism and barrel. The components clicked into place, forming a seamless and elegant design.

With a last flourish of her wand, Yolani activated the mana shard.

The crystal pulsed with a brilliant light, its energy flowing through the intricate network of runes and channels.

The musket hummed with power, ready to unleash its arcane might upon the battlefield.

Yolani glanced at the clock, her eyes widening as she realized hours had passed. The workshop buzzed with activity; the workers were still engrossed in their tasks.

Her muscles protested from the prolonged focus as she stretched. The magazines and oddly shaped projectiles still needed to be made.

She made her way to the corner of the room, dedicated to resting. There was a barrel of fresh water and some old biscuits. She skipped those with a wary look and took a cup of cool water, the liquid pleasantly soothing.

On the opposite side of the workshop, the freight elevator came to a stop, its arrival announced by a loud clang.

A rough-looking man emerged, pushing a cart laden with rocks. His face twisted into a scowl.

“Who ordered me to dig up these rocks from my Ralfot Farm?” he demanded, his voice gruff and irritated.

Yolani’s heart leaped with excitement. “That’s me!”

She hurried to the cart, her eyes eagerly examining the rocks.

A pungent odor assaulted her nostrils, and she noticed traces of manure clinging to the stones.

Wrinkling her nose, Yolani gingerly picked up a rock. She brought it close to her face, scrutinizing its surface.

Her mind raced, comparing its characteristics to the descriptions Elania had provided.

A grin spread across her face. “This is it,” she whispered, her voice tinged with triumph. She was almost certain that it was the saltpeter that Elania had described.

She just needed to do a few more tests…

And then they could start trying to find the correct ratio of the three key ingredients.

Saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur.

Gunpowder.

* * *

Elania strode through the Magistry halls, her wings pulsing with the radiant glow of her replenished [Divinity]. Stares followed her every step, a mixture of awe and apprehension etched on the faces of those she passed.

She reached Keswick’s office and was promptly ushered inside by a secretary. The Magister sat at her desk; her expression inscrutable as Elania entered.

“The Central district gate to the Noble district holds,” Elania said, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. “I fought at the gate myself.”

“Finally, some good news,” Keswick muttered.

Elania frowned. “The Lightbringer soldiers, they don’t provide [Divinity] like the monks do.”

Keswick’s gaze flicked to Elania’s wings, noting their luminous state. “Yet your wings are glowing.”

Elania nodded. “The battle at the Conclave gate. Monks attacked from within while Lightbringers assaulted from outside. They control the causeway there now.”

She paused, her eyes meeting Keswick’s. “I could have destroyed the causeway entirely, but I wanted to consult with you first before taking such drastic action.”

A flicker of approval crossed Keswick’s features. “A wise decision. It’s a measure we may be forced to take, and soon.”

“There’s more,” Elania continued. “Before the Elder drove me back, I observed Lightbringers and Monks working together from both sides to repair a bridge to the Conclave fortress.”

Her words hung heavy in the air. “If they succeed, the Conclave will have an even stronger foothold in the south.”

Keswick rose from her desk, gesturing for Elania to follow. “Come, let me show you something.”

She led Elania to a large table dominated by a detailed map of the city. The districts were clearly delineated, each with its own unique markings and symbols.

Keswick traced a finger along the map. “As you can see, the City Watch and Magistry are both connected this wall.” She tapped a line that ran between two circular walls enclosing their respective districts. “The City Watch Headquarters and Magistry Tower both serve as fortresses themselves.”

Elania leaned in, studying the layout. Her gaze settled on a section of the wall that looked different from the rest. “There,” she pointed, “the seraph’s laser swept through there.”

Keswick nodded grimly. “It destroyed a section of the wall between our districts.”

“I saw it during the battle,” Elania confirmed, her wings twitching at the memory. “The damage was extensive.”

“And it’s left us vulnerable,” Keswick sighed, her fingers drumming against the table. “We need to prioritize repairs and reinforcements in that area. Restore the line of supply. It’s taking too long for me to receive and send word to Magister Bannon.”

“Isn’t that more to do with the way stones being disrupted and losing the Guards’ telepathy?” Elania asked.

Keswick nodded. “But not being able to send reliable messengers back and forth makes it even worse.”

Elania’s eyes scanned the map, taking in the positions of their forces and those of the enemy. “The Lightbringers and Monks will probably target that weakness.”

“Agreed,” Keswick said, her brow furrowed in thought. “We’ll need to deploy additional troops and perhaps have you assist there.”

“I can help with that,” Elania offered, straightening up.

Keswick’s lips curved into a smile. “I had a feeling you would say that.” She rolled up the map, her gaze meeting Elania’s.

Drinks and cookies arrived, and they spent the next hour discussing the specifics of the battles that Elania had been in. Keswick was very impressed with the way she had demolished the tortoise formation’s barrier.

The aerial bombing was also commented on, and Keswick wondered if there was a way for her to improve the efficiency of those attacks.

Elania drew a blank. Maybe if they made gunpowder bombs? But those would be much too heavy for her to carry. Utilizing her [Power] would probably continue to be the most effective method of explosive delivery.

Elania studied the map, her brow furrowed. “What’s the situation in the Slums?”

Keswick’s lips pressed into a thin line. “We don’t know.” She tapped the map, her nail clicking against the parchment. “We pulled all our units stationed along the wall with it to defend other districts.”

“So the enemy could be making significant gains there,” Elania mused, her wings twitching with unease.

“It’s a distinct possibility.” Keswick sighed, rubbing her temples. “Then again, we hoped the locals would slow them down.”

There was possibly some truth to that. The slums were a rough place, and the Ironfist Mercenary Company wasn’t the only para-military group operating there. But she doubted they would slow down the organized Lightbringers or the monks much.

Most people would just keep their heads down, hoping to wait for the conflict to blow over.

It wasn’t like the Magistry had done much to engender any loyalty from them.

Elania’s gaze drifted to the markers representing their own forces. The pieces seemed woefully inadequate compared to the sea of enemy tokens. “We’re outnumbered,” she breathed, a thread of despair weaving through her words.

Keswick nodded grimly. “We’ve lost three Magisters already.” She looked up at Elania, her eyes haunted. “Magister-level combatants, gone. Just like that.”

“And we do not know how many Paladins the Lightbringers have in reserve,” Elania finished the thought, her stomach twisting.

“Elders, Paladins, who knows what else they’ve brought to bear.” Keswick’s fingers curled into fists on the table.

Elania’s mind raced, trying to find a glimmer of hope in the bleak picture before them. “What about reinforcements? Allies from other cities?”

Keswick shook her head.

Elania’s wings drooped, the weight of their situation bearing down on her. She looked at the map again, desperately searching for something, anything, they could use to their advantage.

But the cold, hard truth stared back at her from the parchment.

They were losing ground, and fast.

The enemy’s advance seemed inexorable, a tide of destruction sweeping over the city.

Keswick reached out, placing a hand on Elania’s arm. The Magister must have seen the despair on her face. “We’re not done yet,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “We’ll fight with everything we have. To the last breath.”

Elania grunted. That might have been supposed to comfort her, but…

She really didn’t feel any loyalty to the city.

She just wanted Yolani to be safe. For both of them to be safe.

Keswick’s eyes narrowed as she traced a finger along the map. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said, her voice crisp with authority. “Elania, I need you to make an assault on the monks in the Artisan District.”

Elania’s wings flickered, the prospect of battle sending a thrill through her veins. That… feeling wasn’t entirely comforting when she realized how fast it had changed her mood.

“Aim for the ones between the Magistry and City Watch district,” Keswick continued, “while you do that, make your way along the wall towards the City Guard. Try to ease the pressure there so we can attempt to reestablish contact.”

She tapped a spot on the map, her nail clicking against the parchment. “Contacting Magister Bannon is a priority. If that proves impossible, return here, and we’ll devise a new plan to send reinforcements and relieve the Guard.”

Elania nodded, her jaw set with determination. “Understood.”

She turned to leave, but a thought pulled her back. “I need to see Yolani before I go.”

Keswick’s expression softened, understanding in her eyes. “Of course. But remember, Elania, you’re free to manage your time. But remember, you need to be back soon to recharge the engine.”

The weight of that responsibility settled on Elania’s shoulders, but she squared them, ready to bear the burden.

With a final nod to Keswick, Elania strode out of the room, her wings pulsing with barely contained energy.

She had a mission.

If things were going to turn around, she couldn’t fail.