One month later.
I stood in Velusia's workshop, a spacious room that smelled of oil, metal, and the faint scent of ozone from concentrated mana. Artificial sunlight from the ceiling illuminated a large wooden workbench cluttered with sketches, tools, and scattered weapon components.
Velusia stood across the table, her posture straight, her ice-blue eyes watching me with a mix of anticipation and suppressed pride.
"My Lord, is this weapon to your liking?" she asked, her voice calm but with an urgent edge.
On the table lay a long-barreled rifle. I reached out, my fingers tracing the cold metal surface.
The rifle was… beautiful. Too beautiful.
The stock was made of finely polished ebony, carved with intricate vine motifs typical of Elven craftsmanship, reminding me of a musket from the Napoleonic era. However, the barrel and mechanism looked like a blend of art and technology, with sharp lines and matte black metal.
"Can you explain the specifications?" I asked, lifting the rifle. It felt perfectly balanced in my hand.
Velusia nodded, her eyes sparkling. She stepped forward, took a small wooden box from the table, and opened it. Inside lay rows of glittering bullets.
"This rifle, My Lord, is fully semi-automatic," she explained enthusiastically. She picked up a bullet and showed it to me. The casing was pure gold, made of finely forged Mithril.
"The key is here. The magic bullet." Her slender index finger traced the microscopic rune engraving on the bullet casing. "I designed a special rune on the body of this bullet: Vacuum Field. When fired, this rune creates a thin layer of vacuum around the projectile."
She looked at me, waiting for a reaction.
"This means," she continued, "no air friction. No wind deviation. This bullet will fly perfectly straight, just like being fired in outer space. Effective range two kilometers, maximum range two kilometers. Accuracy 99.8 percent. Wherever you aim, that is where the bullet will land."
She put the bullet back and picked up another one, which had a small red mark on the tip.
"And upon impact, the Vacuum Field collapses instantly. Oxygen and atmosphere rush in at supersonic speeds, triggering the elemental core inside the bullet. And BOOM! An explosion of fire, or water, or lightning… depending on the element filled. The damage effect far exceeds conventional bullets."
I listened to her explanation, staring at the glittering Mithril bullet. The technology was brilliant. Deadly. Perfect.
But…
"Velusia," I cut in gently. "You know our magic metals are limited. Mithril is a strategic resource."
Before I could finish my sentence, Velusia interrupted, her eyes burning with the passion of a creator defending her work.
"We can also use magic crystals as a substitute for metal, My Lord! And as for Mithril… our Mithril mines on Floors Two, Five, and Six are still very abundant. According to my calculations, the reserves won't run out for another thousand years!"
She stepped closer, pointing to a geological diagram on the wall.
"Even if it runs out, we can use magic manipulation to increase the concentration of mana in ordinary caves, turning the metal or soil there into artificial Mithril within a few decades. Resources are not a problem, My Lord!"
I sighed deeply, placing the beautiful rifle back on the table. The sharp clack of metal hitting wood echoed.
"I still disagree," I said firmly. "Besides, this weapon is for us to sell, not for us to use!"
Velusia fell silent, her smile fading.
I walked around the table, picking up the Mithril bullet. "Think about it, Velusia. Who is our target market? Who will buy this weapon?"
"Humans," she answered softly.
"Exactly. Ordinary humans. Rebels in the jungle, militias in the desert. They won't be able to find these Mithril bullets at the grocery store. If they run out of these magic bullets, your beautiful weapon will just be an expensive club."
I tossed the bullet into the air and caught it again.
"And this design… it's too flashy. Too artistic. Weapons on Earth are ugly, Velusia. They are functional, rough, and made to be abused in mud and sand."
I took a blank sheet of paper and a charcoal pencil from the table. Quickly, I drew a rough sketch. A shape very familiar to anyone who had ever played an FPS game.
"AK-47," I muttered as I drew the distinctive curved line of its magazine. "This is our gold standard. The mechanism is simple, loose, and durable."
I pushed the sketch toward Velusia.
"Use gunpowder. Don't use magic at all. We're not ready to show Magi-Tech to the world. Let them think we're just ordinary arms dealers."
"The bullets," I continued, tapping the table. "Use NATO or Soviet standards. 5.56mm or 7.62mm. They have to be able to find these bullets anywhere, even in the cheapest black market."
I looked at Velusia. She was studying my sketch with a furrowed brow, clearly struggling between her artist's instinct and the pragmatic logic of my order.
"I want this weapon to be so cheap and easy to get that a warlord in Africa can buy a whole crate without blinking. I want these weapons to flood the black market, making every local conflict bloodier and longer."
"Currently, our craftsmen in the factory are already using assembly lines, right? Producing junk like this in the millions shouldn't be a problem. We have unlimited resources from the Martian mines. Iron, steel, lead… use it all."
Velusia was silent for a moment. She picked up my rough sketch, her slender fingers tracing the messy pencil lines.
"An ugly weapon…" she murmured softly. "A weapon that requires no skill or beauty. Just a pure tool for killing."
She raised her head, and I saw the fire of understanding ignite in her eyes. No longer the pride of an artist, but the efficiency of a war engineer.
"I understand, Lord Arthur," she said firmly. "I will shed my Elven aesthetics. I will make you the deadliest, cheapest, and most… human weapon ever made."
"Then I'll wait for the sample, tomorrow."
"Don't worry, My Lord. By this afternoon at the latest, I will give you the sample."
"Good."
I nodded.
"In that case, I'll be going now."