Chapter 310: Gawain’s Improvement Plan

The shell exploded within the target zone, unleashing a thunderous roar that echoed in everyone’s ears. Gawain knew this blast wasn’t just a strike against the target—it was a shattering blow to the traditions of this world. From this day forward, the walls of noble castles would no longer be impregnable, and the towers of mages would no longer stand untouchable. For centuries, the power to tear through stone and steel had been tightly held by the supernaturals. But now, all it took was a militia member trained for three months to pull a trigger.

Some people were left stunned.

Jenny stared blankly at the fiery explosion, trying to gauge the magical equivalent of its destructive force. Even though she had personally helped optimize the acceleration rails, the moment the shell detonated still exceeded her expectations.

She thought of her formidable mentor and wondered how many shots he could withstand from this railgun—one? Two?

But it didn’t matter how many shots he could endure. In the new order the lord was building, anyone opposing Cecil would face a barrage of thousands of shells.

Those who tried to defend themselves with magical shields or protective charms against the heat-ray gun’s rapid fire had already paid with their lives.

Hetty was also dazed, but her mind immediately compared this war machine to the bomb-throwing catapults used in the Second Defensive War. After a moment’s thought, she realized these were two entirely different concepts.

Catapults were often just a deterrent. Huge stones or flaming balls soared through the air, crashing down with unstoppable force on heads or walls. The pressure they exerted was deadly to traditional noble mercenaries lacking honor or responsibility. But beyond morale damage, catapults caused limited destruction in battle. They were a supplement to ranged attacks when there weren’t enough battle mages. Usually, battle mages were too few, tasked with killing key enemy units, disrupting formations, or countering enemy magic.

But this “Arcane Crystal Railgun,” as their ancestors had named it, was a weapon designed purely for destruction.

Accuracy, range, destructive power, stability, ease of operation—every metric aimed at one goal: to efficiently, precisely, and swiftly obliterate the target. As the ancestors had said, once the shell exploded, the shield walls formed by noble castles and knightly orders would vanish without a trace.

Byron watched the smoke slowly dissipate in the north wind, scratching his messy gray hair. “This thing’s way more powerful than the heat-ray gun… and way more powerful than a catapult.”

“If the future battlefield is filled with these…” Philip frowned, staring into the distance. “What will become of knights and heavy infantry?”

Byron glanced at his partner and shrugged. “Didn’t you see? The knights just shout ‘Fire!’ while the infantry load and pull the trigger.”

Philip, ever serious, couldn’t help but feel conflicted. “I just feel like this kind of fighting lacks honor…”

Byron tried to reason with him. “Think about it. Once these things are widespread, there’ll basically be two kinds of people on the battlefield: those who get blasted before they even meet the enemy, and those who fire the guns. Honor on the battlefield is either in brave fighting or in ultimate victory. Now, if the brave fighters die before the fight even starts, then the ones who fire the guns are the ones who win—and that’s the real honor.”

Philip blinked in surprise. “Can you really explain it like that?”

“How else? You can’t say the loser is honorable every time. Then who’d bother winning? Might as well surrender right away. So the gunners have the most honor—at least more than those lying dead on the ground. If you’re the most honorable on the field, who else could be?”

Philip thought it over seriously, then turned and walked away. “I think you’re just talking nonsense again.”

Byron smirked, watching Philip’s retreating back. “If you’re so sure, don’t ask for one of these railguns when they’re first issued…”

He then hurried over to Gawain. “My lord, will these new weapons be ready for deployment soon?”

Gawain could tell from the seasoned knight’s eyes that Byron was genuinely interested. Byron was a pragmatist who didn’t care if a weapon fit knightly tradition—as long as it worked against the enemy, it was good equipment. The Arcane Crystal Railgun was clearly such a weapon.

“We still need some final testing and adjustments for mass production. Even if we start manufacturing soon, the earliest will be next spring.”

Seeing the slight disappointment on Byron’s face, Gawain smiled. “Even if we had a batch of finished railguns now, the combat corps isn’t ready to deploy them. To use this new weapon efficiently, we need to form a new specialized unit.”

“A new specialized unit?” Byron snapped out of his excitement over “finally having a big cannon” and immediately understood Gawain’s meaning.

Judging by the weapon’s range, power, and attack style, it was clear this wasn’t just a “bigger catapult.” For the soldiers operating the railgun, everything—from basic training to battlefield roles to command methods—had to be redesigned to maximize the weapon’s effectiveness.

“The Cecil Combat Corps will add an artillery unit dedicated to operating this heavy firepower. I’ll hand over the organization, training, and logistics to you and Philip,” Gawain said calmly. “Operating the railgun requires technical skill. Unlike the heat-ray gun, the railgun’s range exceeds what can be aimed by intuition alone. Operators must use various aiming aids to calibrate angles, consult pre-calculated firing tables to estimate shell impact points, and respond quickly to commanders’ orders. This demands a higher level of literacy—just being able to read isn’t enough. So when selecting the first artillery recruits, pay close attention.”

After Byron accepted the order and left, Gawain exhaled softly.

Under his command, soldiers and technicians fired all the prepared test and live rounds, gathering a wealth of valuable data in the process.

When testing concluded, he called Kamail and Nicholas Egg over.

“Are you satisfied with this weapon?” Kamail’s arcane aura flickered brightly; he was clearly in high spirits.

Gawain nodded. “Very much so. It meets all my requirements, but there’s still plenty of room for improvement. Do you know what that is?”

Kamail was still getting used to Gawain’s uncanny ability to instantly grasp new things and immediately suggest practical improvements, so he was momentarily stunned. Nicholas Egg, however, was more accustomed to it. The 1.3-meter-wide mechanical marvel buzzed softly: “By analogy, now that firing shells with acceleration rails is a reality, you’ll want to develop various sizes and types of similar devices next, right?”

“Exactly,” Gawain nodded, his gaze drifting toward the firing range. After the railgun endured continuous high-intensity firing tests, it was now cooling down. Technicians carefully removed the gun mount’s cover to inspect the charging structure and overload devices (Rebecca’s enhancement modules), checking for any changes after the stress. “This cannon packs a punch, but it’s only suitable for fixed positions like castle walls. The large acceleration rails require a stationary magic network to power them, which means our soldiers lack offensive mobility. A weapon that can’t attack proactively is inherently incomplete.”

Kamail understood immediately. “Miniaturization?”

“That’s the first direction,” Gawain agreed. “On a conventional battlefield, that cannon is overkill. We need to find ways to lighten the shells, reduce the acceleration rails, lower energy consumption, and make it powered by magic capacitors. It should be mountable on wagons or even broken down so artillery crews can carry it. The other direction is diversifying the shells. Right now, there’s only one type—explosive. But since we can launch dozens-of-kilograms magical devices hundreds or even thousands of meters away, why not add some variety?”

Kamail’s eyes lit up with new ideas.

As a researcher from the Gondor Empire, innovation was never in short supply.

“Magical devices weighing dozens of kilograms… the possibilities are endless,” the ancient mage said with delight. “I could even fit a ‘Cataclysmic Rift’ inside!”

Gawain gave him a sideways glance. “…You’d better suggest something cheaper, and usable in this era.”

“…I’ll think about it later.”

“You’ll handle the mechanical design of the artillery,” Gawain said to Nicholas Egg, then looked at Kamail. “You’re the magic expert. I believe with you two, creating improved models that better suit battlefield needs won’t be difficult. But research must be practical, and production must consider factory capacity. For now, let’s focus on a few key projects and not spread ourselves too thin.”

Nicholas Egg bobbed up and down, and Kamail nodded. “Don’t worry, I understand.”

Gawain suddenly remembered something else. “By the way… Santis left two days ago, right?”

“Yes. He wants to complete the task you gave him as soon as possible,” Kamail said. “He also hopes to quickly establish connections with the mage circles in the capital. That will help ease the talent shortage in the territory. If we can also recruit a batch of technicians from the capital by spring, when the population grows, everything will be perfect.”

Gawain looked thoughtful. “Is that plan progressing smoothly as well…”

He looked up and saw Jenny and Rebecca standing nearby, pointing and chatting excitedly about the dismantled railgun.

“Jenny! Rebecca!” Gawain called out.

The two girls quickly ran over. Rebecca beamed. “Ancestor, you called? What’s up?”

Gawain nodded. “I have an idea about the magic network architecture. See if it’s feasible.”

“You’ve thought of an improvement?” Jenny looked surprised at the seemingly inexhaustible energy and inspiration of their lord. “Or did you find a flaw in the current magic network?”

“No, I’m planning to create a flaw…”

Both girls blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Gawain smiled. “I’m going to dig a hole…”

(End of chapter)