Chapter 197: One of the Small Project

Chapter 197: One of the Small Project



The next morning, the forge on Akarios Island was alive with activity. Dwarven blacksmiths, elven enchanters, and human engineers worked side by side, each group focused on their task yet constantly observing the others. It was the first true collaboration between the three, and while there was still a sense of rivalry in the air, the shared goal of survival pushed them forward. They weren't just working to impress each other-they were crafting something that could change the tide of war.

At the center of the forge stood the object of their focus: an M2 machine gun. Disassembled and laid out on the workbench, it was nothing special at first glance. Yet today, it was destined to become something extraordinary. Their mission was to craft a weapon that would not jam, overheat, or break down under any condition. Dwarven craftsmanship would reinforce its durability, elven magic would provide enhancements, and human technology would be the foundation upon which it all rested.

Vincent stood on one side of the forge, watching the scene unfold. His role was to ensure that the three groups worked in unison without stepping on each other's toes. He had brought them together, and now he was tasked with ensuring this delicate alliance held. His gaze followed the dwarves as they carefully inspected the gun's components, their rough, experienced hands handling the parts with precision honed over centuries of blacksmithing. Queen Velara stood nearby, her arms crossed as she observed her blacksmiths with an intensity Vincent had come to expect. Her sharp eyes missed nothing, and he could see she was paying close attention to the process, ready to step in if needed. She had to ensure her people's methods were not compromised.

On the opposite side of the forge, Princess Elara and her team of enchanters were gathered around a table filled with ancient scrolls and magical tools. They had already begun preparing the spells that would be woven into the machine gun, their low whispers barely audible over the hum of the forge. Runes glimmered faintly on the scrolls, a sign of the powerful magic they were preparing to infuse into the weapon.

Vincent cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "We're going to begin with reinforcing the gun's barrel," he announced. "Dwarves, you'll need to strengthen the steel. Elves, once the metal is ready, you'll weave the enchantments."

The dwarves wasted no time. The sound of hammers ringing against steel filled the room as they heated the barrel in the forge, then cooled it in water before hammering it again. The metal glowed faintly from the heat as the dwarves worked swiftly to reshape it. Their movements were precise, shaping the barrel into something stronger than its original form. Velara stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the work. Satisfied with what she saw, she nodded to the elven enchanters. "It's ready for you now."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Elara moved gracefully toward the workbench, her fingers lightly tracing the air above the glowing barrel. Her voice was soft as she muttered incantations, and slowly, the air around the barrel began to shimmer. The faint glow of runes appeared along the surface of the metal, as though the magic was being etched into the steel itself.

"The runes will ensure that the barrel remains cool, no matter how many rounds are fired," Elara explained as she worked. "It will allow the gun to handle prolonged use without overheating or warping."

The dwarves watched, their expressions skeptical but intrigued. One of them, Torvin, a burly blacksmith with thick arms, stepped closer to inspect the magic-infused barrel. He ran his hand over the runes, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Magic and steel... this will either be brilliant or it'll ruin the barrel," he grumbled, though there was no malice in his voice.

"It won't ruin anything," Elara said confidently. "We've woven the magic into the natural properties of the steel. It will enhance what's already there without disrupting its function." Torvin grunted in response but stepped back, allowing the enchanters to finish their work. Once the barrel was complete, Vincent turned to the rest of the gun's components.

The group dispersed, making their way to the test range. By the time they arrived, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the range. Targets had been set up at varying distances, some armored and others left exposed. Dwarven marksmen stood by, eager to see if this weapon could live up to the promises.

The first marksman took his position, the modified M2 machine gun in his hands. He fired off a short burst, and the rapid thudding echoed across the range. The bullets tore into the target, shredding it with ease. He fired again, and again, letting the gun roar as round after round ripped through the air. As the minutes passed, the gun showed no sign of overheating or

jamming.

Velara watched intently, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Keep firing," she ordered.

The marksman complied, holding down the trigger and unleashing a relentless hail of bullets. Thousands of rounds were fired from the gun, the metal plate targets riddled with holes. And yet, the machine gun held strong. No glow of heat, no warping, no jamming. The barrel remained cool to the touch, and the firing mechanism worked flawlessly.

After hours of continuous firing, the marksman finally released the trigger. The M2 stood tall, no worse for wear after its relentless use. Velara stepped forward, inspecting the weapon herself. "It's still cool," she muttered.

One of the blacksmiths deliberately scratched the gun's surface with a tool, testing the self- repair. Within seconds, the scratch disappeared, the wood and metal knitting back together

seamlessly.

Velara let out a breath, turning to Vincent and Elara. "It works," she said, a smile creeping across her face. "We've done it."

"So this is what happens when we integrate magic with technology, huh?" Vincent exclaimed softly, marveling at the M2 machine gun resting on the workbench. His eyes traced the smooth, unblemished barrel that had endured an onslaught of a million rounds without so much as a glow of heat. In the real world, without the enchantments, this gun would have been glowing red-hot, nearly molten from the relentless fire. But here, it was as cool as if it had just been assembled.

Queen Velara crossed her arms, watching the weapon with a faint glint of approval in her sharp eyes. "Impressive," she murmured, almost to herself.