The first cannon nearly killed three dwarves.

Which, according to the dwarves themselves, meant the design was "extremely promising."

Snow covered the western testing grounds outside Elarion while workers hurried across the frozen field carrying powder crates, tools, and reinforced support beams beneath the sharp northern wind.

At the center of the chaos rested the largest weapon Elarion had ever built.

A twelve-pound field cannon.

The steel barrel sat mounted atop a reinforced wheeled carriage while fresh hammer marks still lined portions of the frame where dwarven craftsmen had apparently continued modifications less than an hour earlier.

Lucas stood a very safe distance away from it.

Very safe.

"I hate this already."

Beside him, Cedric folded his arms proudly.

"It’s beautiful."

"It looks violent."

"It can be both."

Nearby, dwarves argued loudly around the cannon while Gandalf held several design papers upside down with complete confidence.

"I still believe a slightly larger powder chamber would improve performance."

One dwarf stared at him in horror.

"You are not allowed near the cannon anymore."

"That restriction feels political."

"It is survival."

Lucien ignored the arguing while walking slowly around the massive weapon.

The cannon represented more than military power.

It represented production capability.

Steel quality.

Precision boring.

Industrial consistency.

A year ago Elarion could barely maintain proper roads during winter.

Now they were manufacturing artillery.

That thought alone felt absurd sometimes.

Malen approached from the lower field shortly afterward.

"Perimeter secured."

Lucien nodded once.

"Marksmen?"

"Watching the ridges."

Good.

Because cannon testing in the north tended to attract unwanted attention.

And sometimes unwanted creatures.

Aurethar meanwhile rested atop the nearby stone ridge overlooking the field with obvious amusement.

"You humans continue building louder weapons."

Cedric glanced upward.

"You breathe fire."

"That is natural."

"This explodes."

"Also natural."

"That is not how nature works."

The dragon ignored him completely.

Workers eventually cleared the immediate area while the dwarves loaded the cannon with almost religious seriousness.

Powder first.

Then wadding.

Then the twelve-pound iron shell.

One younger worker swallowed nervously.

"...What if it explodes?"

An older dwarf snorted.

"Then we improve the next one."

That did not comfort anyone.

Lucas quietly stepped farther backward.

Lucien raised one hand.

The field gradually fell silent.

Only the wind remained.

Then—

"Fire."

The cannon roared.

Not cracked.

Not boomed.

Roared.

The ground itself shook beneath the blast while smoke exploded outward across the snowy field hard enough to knock several workers backward.

Far across the valley—

The target wall vanished.

Stone shattered outward violently beneath the impact while snow burst high into the air around the destroyed position.

Silence followed.

Complete silence.

Even the wind seemed quieter afterward.

Then one dwarf whispered softly:

"...Beautiful."

The entire field erupted immediately afterward.

Workers shouted.

Dwarves started yelling triumphantly.

Several soldiers stared toward the obliterated stone target with pale expressions.

One marksman muttered:

"Gods."

Cedric laughed loudly while slapping Lucas across the shoulder hard enough to nearly kill him.

"Did you see that?!"

"I FELT IT IN MY BONES!"

Even Malen looked mildly disturbed.

Which honestly made the cannon even more impressive.

Aurethar watched the smoke drifting across the valley carefully.

"...That weapon would break cavalry formations instantly."

Lucien nodded once.

"And fortress gates eventually."

The dragon slowly looked toward him afterward.

"...You truly are trying to drag this world into a new age by force."

"Yes."

No hesitation.

No denial.

Just truth.

The cannon crews began reloading immediately afterward while nearby engineers rushed forward excitedly to inspect barrel stability and carriage damage.

One dwarf shouted proudly:

"Minimal cracking!"

Another raised both fists.

"WE LIVE!"

A third dwarf looked offended.

"That was always the plan!"

Nearby, Gandalf had already moved on to bothering an exhausted engineer beside a strange iron machine resting beneath heavy canvas near the workshop road.

"What about the pressure valves?"

"They’re stable."

"The boiler?"

"Stable."

"The wheel alignment?"

"Mostly stable."

Gandalf looked suspicious.

"What does ’mostly’ mean?"

The engineer looked away.

Lucien walked toward the covered machine afterward while Lucas followed behind nervously.

"...Please tell me that thing is less explosive than the cannon."

"No."

Lucas stopped walking.

"...Wonderful."

The canvas covering was finally pulled away.

Silence spread across the nearby workers immediately.

The machine looked crude by future standards.

But here?

Now?

It looked revolutionary.

Iron boiler.

Pressure pipes.

Connecting rods.

Heavy steel wheels.

The first steam engine.

Even the dwarves stopped arguing long enough to stare at it properly.

Aurethar narrowed his eyes from the ridge above.

"...That machine smells dangerous."

Gandalf looked proud.

"It is science."

"That was not reassuring."

Lucien slowly walked around the engine while engineers prepared the furnace chamber beneath the boiler.

Coal was loaded carefully afterward.

Then fire.

Workers stepped back nervously.

Nothing happened at first.

Only the sound of crackling flames beneath iron.

Then gradually—

Steam hissed.

Pressure gauges trembled slightly.

The entire machine vibrated.

One worker whispered:

"It’s alive."

Lucas looked deeply offended by the statement.

"It absolutely should not be."

More steam escaped through the upper pipes.

The pistons jerked suddenly once.

Twice.

Then began moving rhythmically.

Clank.

Hiss.

Clank.

Hiss.

The heavy wheels turned slowly through the snow.

Not quickly.

Not smoothly either.

But they moved.

The engineers erupted into celebration immediately.

One dwarf actually cried.

Though he later denied it aggressively.

Lucien watched the machine carefully while steam rolled into the freezing northern air.

This.

More than rifles.

More than cannons.

This would truly change everything eventually.

Rail transport. Factories. Mining. Mechanized industry.

Aurethar stared at the moving engine with unusual silence.

"...Humans were simpler when you fought with sticks."

Then suddenly—

A rifle shot echoed sharply from the northern ridge.

Not training.

Warning.

Every soldier on the field turned instantly.

Malen’s expression changed first.

Then another rifle shot came.

And another.

Fast.

Urgent.

A marksman came sprinting down the ridge through deep snow while breathing hard.

"My lord!"

The entire testing ground quieted immediately.

The soldier stopped before Lucien.

"Scouts confirmed movement beyond the northern forest."

Malen stepped forward instantly.

"How many?"

The marksman swallowed once.

Then answered:

"...Thousands."

The northern wind suddenly felt colder.

"Beast tide," the soldier finished quietly.

And somewhere far beyond the snowy ridges—

The forests were already moving.