Chapter 21

  Leuke

  Good hustle on those dungeons, Hero!

  In honor of your dungeon-purifying prowess, we at HeavenlyTM Systems have engineered an all-new ballistic round just for you: Null Rounds!

  Specifically designed to work with your Purification Cannon, these rounds deal no damage and apply no inherited effect to the Cannon, making it safe to use on all targets, even those you don't want to horrifically disfigure!

  Remember, you're not shooting blanks! You're shooting Heavenly EssenceTM brand Null Rounds!

  The advertisement had popped up the first time I opened up my points store after we left the Desert Cove dungeon, and I'm still reflecting on it as I turn the gray-striped magazine over in my hand.

  New products like this tend to appear, from what I've noticed, whenever there's a need for them based on what I've been doing. Of course, even the ad stated that this release is related to purifying the dungeons. The real question is, what about it demanded their need? Am I risking damage to the cores using other rounds?

  Well, I have them now. That's the important thing. I can use them on cores and people both when I don't want to, say, take the roof off of an inn. Just to throw out a random example. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that played a part in the generation of these bullets, too.

  I had shared the message with Ayre at the time, and he leans across the carriage to me now. "What does it mean to shoot blanks?"

  "Ah, well," I try, floundering for a moment as I search for the words to explain a meaning I take for granted, "it means there's no bullet."

  Ayre's eyes go to the magazine in my hand. "But the bullets are right there."

  Oh, right, I guess I've never really explained the structure of bullets to him before. Ayre must think they're like the bolt magazines for my crossbow.

  "Ah, no, these are cartridges," I explain. "The bullet is really just the little bit at the end, that's the only part that goes flying. That's why you see the empty cases coming out of my gun."

  I reach into my satchel, pull out my usual overpressure magazine, then pop a loose round out of it. I hold the bullet up and point to the metal bit at the end. "We can call the whole thing a bullet for simplicity's sake, but this bit here, that's the actual projectile, a shaped cap of soft metal like lead or copper. Its shape determines what it does on impact, usually mashing or shredding to increase kinetic damage."

  I turn the bullet around and point to the center of the flat end, where there's a little circle. "This here's the primer. It's what's struck by the pistol's mechanisms when I pull the trigger. When it's struck by the firing pin, it transmits a little spark, like striking flint, to the inside of the cartridge."

  Finally, I turn the bullet sideways, holding it between my index fingers with one on the base and one on the nose. "In between the primer and the bullet is a powder that explodes once that spark reaches it. That's what you hear when the gun goes off, or the better part of it, anyway. The explosion generates high-pressure gases that are what shoves the bullet down the barrel and into the target."

  I can tell that I lost Ayre somewhere along the way from his thousand-yard stare. After a moment, it comes to focus on me again as his ears nearly go as flat as his expression. "Remmi, be honest. Do your people over-complicate their inventions for the fun of it?"

  "Yes," I chirp without missing a beat. "We call them Goldberg machines, and there's whole competitions to see who can accomplish the simplest tasks with the most complex creation!" I motion with the bullet again. "But this isn't one of them! Come on, your people have fireworks, don't you? It's based off of the same idea!"

  "Remmi, that is nothing like a firework!" He pauses after saying that, as if a thought struck him. He leans back and rubs his chin for a moment. "Though, you know what it does remind me of? Your explanation of how your people generate electric-elemented energy. That long chain of transmutation you cycle through to end up with what you want. Except, instead of fire, water, air, metal and, finally, electricity, it's fire, earth, air and metal."

  I rub my cheek in a thinking pose of my own. "Hmm, I guess you could describe it that way. The problem is that we can't just generate the desired element directly, so we come up with ways to quickly do so with something we can generate."

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  "Fire," Ayre immediately provides. "Both processes start with Fire. Do all of your processes start that way?"

  I consider the question for several moments before answering, going over different mechanical processes in my head. "Most certainly do. Heat is easy to create and releases a lot of energy that we can then use to do other things. It's a fundamental universal force, so the number of ways to get it are more limited by our creativity than by a lack of options."

  The elf across from me frowns in contemplation. "I suppose that's the limitation of a world without magic. I can't imagine the chaos of a world where the fundamental elements run completely uncontrolled like that."

  I can only shrug. "To us, that's just the normal world. When we first discovered fire, it was probably from a random lightning strike, and we had to figure out how to keep that source fire burning until we learned to make our own."

  I grin, though. "But now?" And I toss the bullet up and catch it again. "Now, we're masters of the whole planet, and all of those forces work for us. No beast can threaten us and no storm can chase us away."

  Ayre frowns again, this time in disapproval. "If you had magic, a suitably powerful mage could just make the storm go away."

  "Maybe," I admit with a nod, "but from a world without magic, we created a world where nobody needs it, either. Everything we create can be used by anyone, all without using a single drop of magic."

  Further discussion is interrupted by the carriage bell ringing, an indication that the driver needs to speak to us.

  Since Ayre is closer, he gets a knee up on the seat and turns to slide the hatch open. It reveals the road ahead of us, still mostly nothing but fields and trees. I can see some farms in the distance, though, which tells me that we're coming up on some outpost of civilization.

  "Is something wrong?" the elf asks.

  I don't know the driver's name. Drivers are available for hire at way stations for those without one under dedicated employment, but they only drive so far and to a given destination. After that, you have to hire a different one to go any further.

  I'm reminded that this one must be very new the moment he opens his mouth. "Madam," he addresses the archer. "There's a horseman approaching us from the rear."

  I frown at that. "Just one?" That's nothing out of the ordinary. We're passed by mounted horsemen all of the time. They're simply faster than our one-horse carriage. They're usually messengers, mailmen essentially, moving between way stations. The driver wouldn't be alerting us just for that. We'd seen half a dozen of them just since he came on.

  "He appears to be heavily armed, Madam, and I don't see any regalia."

  Oh. Yeah, okay, I can see why that would raise alarm. Anyone would be suspicious seeing such a thing. Even adventurers would be traveling in a group, but a lone warrior bearing no markings? In a world where one man can be more powerful than a dozen soldiers, that could be bad news. You don't need a whole crew to take down one carriage; you only have to be strong enough to beat its defenders.

  I stuff my bullets away and unfasten the strap securing my pistol, then turn around in my own seat to look out the back window.

  There's the warrior, alright, and heavily armed is an understatement. He's wearing steel armor, and while he only has one weapon, it's a massive sword that looks like it could sunder the whole carriage in one strike. And I have no doubt its master has the strength to do exactly that.

  After all, I've seen his status window.

  I strap my gun back down and jump for the door even though we're still moving, and I'm grinning all the while. I ignore Ayre's panicked cry as I lean halfway out the door, holding to the railing on the outside with one hand as I wave to the fiery redhead with the other.

  "LEUKE!"

  It only takes a few moments of the wild swings of my arm as I shout his name before he recognizes what he's seeing and spurs his horse to speed up. In just a dozen seconds or so, he's slowing it down again to match our speed.

  "Rem! Is that you?!"

  "Leuke!" I shout back, more from excitement at bumping into a fellow Hero after so long than a need to be heard. "What are you doing clear out here?!"

  "I could ask you the same," he declares. "I'm on my way home! I heard there's a dispute with some oni over holy grounds and took the excuse to report in."

  "Excuse me, Madam," the driver addresses me, "should I pull over?"

  That's a reminder that I'm still hanging out of the door, and I look down at the road passing by underneath as if seeing it for the first time. "Ah, no, I'll use the window. Just a sec, Leuke."

  I pull myself back in and close the door, then go to open the window.

  While I'm working the crank, Ayre comes over and whispers to me. "Who is he?"

  "Oh, that's Leuke," I say without giving it much thought. "He's the Swordmaster Hero. I haven't seen him since the capitol!"

  "Another Hero ...?"

  I don't get to answer since the window's open now and I'm faced with my fellow Hero again. Just as well, I wouldn't know how to answer it. Ayre's never treated me with any real sense of awe, so I don't know how to deal with the tone with which he's speaking of Leuke.

  I clear my head and focus on the conversation in front of me. "Your hometown doesn't happen to be Giri Village, would it?"

  "That's the one," he cheerfully confirms. "Bigger than most villages, but still doesn't have that big-city feel that makes it all crowded with strangers, you know?"

  "I think I can relate," I agree. "I'm not from a big place, myself, and I just spent a couple months in Dabun! Got myself a piece of land and everything."

  "Oh, that land the Empress promised you?" he recalls. "Glad you like it! But what's bringing you to Giri?"

  "We're doing a dungeon tour," I provide readily. "Clearing all of the dungeons up and down the border with the Demesne!"

  For some reason, mentioning the Demesne seems to unnerve the big guy in a way I didn't think he could be bothered. "The Western Demesne is a dangerous place, Rem."

  I'm gobsmacked. "Dangerous enough to bother you like this?"

  He shakes his head. "It was the first place we were sent. All four of us. We only went to the border, but it was like another world. We barely made it out with our lives."

  I think for a moment. "That's where the darkness is coming from, right?"

  He nods, his jaw set at the memory.

  I force a chipper tune to my voice. "Well, the good news, then, is that this dungeon tour might just help with that!"

  That gets his attention, but the details will have to wait until we're somewhere better for carrying on a long conversation than the middle of the highway.

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