Gunmage-Chapter 292: Detachable truths

Looking at their threadbare clothes and indoor garments—some of which were clearly undersized—Cassius raised an eyebrow, visibly puzzled.

His eyes swept over the group, lingering momentarily on Sela, who, to his evident discomfort, appeared to be wearing little more than an undershirt.

His expression turned vaguely disturbed.

"Why are you all dressed like that?"

"Circumstances,"

Sela replied flatly as she, too, found a reasonably clean slab of concrete to plop down on.

Cassius, still looking mildly thrown off, reached into his coat and retrieved his pistol. Without a word, he handed it to Lugh.

"Be careful,"

He warned, his voice level.

"I know,"

Lugh replied, taking the weapon.

He felt the weight of it in his palm, brows knitting together slightly.

"I haven’t seen this design before."

Cassius leaned back against the wall.

"Oh, that’s because it’s a working prototype. It’ll soon be issued to all active personnel."

Then he paused, frowning.

"Although I say ’soon,’ the logistics mess we’re in might delay things a bit."

Sela leaned forward, watching with interest. Lugh, noticing her curiosity, passed the pistol to her.

She held it up, shifting her grip to accommodate the unfamiliar balance.

"Surprisingly heavy,"

She murmured, carefully rotating it in her hands and inspecting its construction.

"So this is a gun,"

She said aloud, squinting down the barrel.

Cassius visibly paled. His body jerked forward as he yanked the barrel off to the side in a panic.

"I told you to be careful!"

He hissed.

Sela blinked, confused.

"What?! I didn’t even do anything!"

Cassius took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his nose like a man attempting to regain balance at the edge of a breakdown.

He explained,

"This is not a toy."

"I know that,"

She snapped, clearly offended.

He recoiled slightly, both palms raised in surrender.

"Alright, alright. My bad. What I meant to say was—you need to be more conscious of where you point it. Accidents happen. You could seriously injure yourself... or someone else."

"...I see,"

She replied after a pause, finally lowering the barrel to the ground in accordance with his advice.

Mirelle, who had been quietly watching the exchange, asked suddenly:

"Well, does it have a name?"

Cassius looked mildly caught off guard.

"Yes. We call it the semi-automatic Mauser Mk. II."

Mirelle’s brow twitched.

"What the hell kind of name is that?"

Cassius clarified, somewhat proudly.

"Mk. II means ’Mark Two.’ It’s a reverse-engineered model, but we’ve made a lot of advancements. It’s much better now."

Mirelle didn’t look particularly impressed. She frowned.

"I wasn’t talking about the model. I meant the name you gave it. Personally."

"Huh? You want me to name my gun?"

"Yes,"

She said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"How does Jonathan Shieldbreaker sound?"

Lugh could’ve sworn he saw the corners of Cassius’s mouth twitch.

"You name your weapons?"

He asked.

"I name everything,"

She replied.

"My hairbrush. My mirror. My bed. My cat."

"The last one’s normal!"

Cassius looked like he was re-evaluating the trajectory of his life. He inhaled sharply again, bracing himself against the cold air.

"Fine,"

He said, exasperated.

"Jonathan it is."

"Jonathan Shieldbreaker,"

She corrected.

"Right. Jonathan Shieldbreaker."

Lugh blinked, something clicking. He turned to her.

"Oh yeah. How’s Pouncelot?"

"You mean Reginald Pouncelot, Esquire."

"Right. Reginald Pouncelot."

"Esquire."

Lugh exhaled through his nose.

"Esquire."

He was finally getting a taste of what Cassius had just endured.

Mirelle smiled innocently.

"What about him?"

Lugh replied with complete seriousness.

"Tell him, if he eats any more of my mice, I will kill him."

"What?! He’s a cat! Of course he has to hunt! Also, since when do you have mice?"

Cassius watched the exchange with a dizzy, bewildered expression.

Concerned for his mental stability, Lugh turned back to him.

"Hey, what do you mean by semi-automatic?"

Grateful for the change in topic, Cassius responded with a tinge of eagerness.

"A semi-automatic firearm is one that uses the recoil energy—or the gases released from firing—to eject the spent casing, cock the hammer, and load the next round. Our prototype uses both. So you only need to pull the trigger again for each shot."

Lugh frowned, chewing on the information.

"I don’t have to cock the hammer for my revolver."

"That’s because yours is a double-action revolver. Speaking of which—can I see it?"

"I left it at home."

"A shame."

Then he continued, growing animated again.

"Aside from the usual enhancements—heat resistance, improved grips—we’ve increased the magazine size to twelve rounds, up from ten. And here’s the truly amazing part..."

His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, like he was afraid the wind might carry his secrets.

"It’s fitted with detachable mags."

"Detachable?"

Lugh repeated, intrigued.

"Here, I’ll show you."

He gestured to Selaphiel, who handed the pistol back. Spinning it fluidly in his hands, he held it up in a standard grip.

"So. Imagine you’ve just emptied your clip. You’re surrounded. Need to reload. What do you do?"

"Use magic to disrupt them,"

Sela replied flatly.

Both Lugh and Cassius fell silent.

Cassius cleared his throat.

"For people without access to magic,"

He continued, deadpan,

"They do this."

In one swift motion, he flicked a small release catch. A square magazine dropped cleanly from the weapon, clattering softly against the stone floor. From his coat, he retrieved a fresh one and slammed it into place with practiced ease.

The whole exchange took less than three seconds.

"Voilà."

Lugh’s eyes lit up.

"That is... supremely useful. I need one of these. Seriously."

He meant every word. Compared to his revolver—which only held six rounds and took painfully long to reload manually—this was a game-changer.

Cassius chuckled.

"It might be difficult, but I’ll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Just as the words left his mouth, Sela’s voice rang out again.

"Are you sure it’s okay to tell us all this? I might not get the technical bits, but it all seems... really important."

Cassius waved it off.

"Don’t worry. It’s not like you’re spies from Heieg."

Then he paused, his gaze narrowing slightly.

"You’re not... right?"

"Of course not,"

Mirelle answered instantly.

He nodded.

But now that Heieg had been mentioned, Lugh seized the opportunity. If there was anyone in the city with access to classified truths, it would be a scion of House D’Aramitz.

He looked at Cassius, voice quiet but firm.

"Hey Cassius... what’s the true nature of this war?"

Cassius stilled.

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