CHAPTER 38: A BRAVE NEW WORLD

Caedrion’s victory echoed throughout the streets of Dawnhaven, and beyond.

It was an instant in time which he knew would be echoed throughout all eternity.

The world did not quite understand what they had witnessed, and if they did, they denied it out of the sake of maintaining the clarity of their minds.

But Caedrion knew... The era of Industry had begun. Like how in his past life, steel and shot had ended the era of Knights and Chivalry, so too had Caedrion brought forth that which was needed to end the Tyranny of Magic.

Youths, and men of proper age alike lined up to join Caedrion’s army.

Inspired by the victory over House Ignarion which saw their lands defended, and their families safeguarded.

It had been unthinkable, a Null putting up a fight against a Magus, let alone an army of Nulls half defeating an Army of Ignarion Spellswords more than ten times their size.

And yet that is exactly what occurred.

Banners of House Ferrondel flew proudly for the first time in living memory.

A chant of defiance by the people, against a world that sought to keep them down. A chant of loyalty, and love for their Lords who had shared in their misery, rather than oppressed them like the others.

Caedrion became a symbol of the people of Dawnhaven. And rumors of him, whispers of his goals, and his grandeur spread to other Human realms.

Some saw him as a prophet that would usher in the end of the Magi, others saw him as a revolutionary, and a few considered him little more than a bandit, who used trickery, and low cunning to overcome his betters.

But one thing was certain, his name spread far and wide.

As for Caedrion, nothing really changed. He did not pursue the Ignarion forces, despite having broken their ranks.

Nor did he care about the torrential firestorm that Valerius had evolved into, as a last gasp of desperation against the walls ever closing in on him.

That was House Ignarion’s cross to bear. Instead he bathed, ate, and continued with his work.

Feeding the ancient engine which housed a long forgotten secret. And building the industry that would fuel the growth of his Empire.

Magitech Rifles, enchanted half-plate armor, and shells by the batch of thousands were produced en masse.

Between the machinery, and Baelius’ flames fueling them. As well as a small number of semi-skilled labor to assist with his efforts.

Production capacity quickly reached the peak within its current abilities. But that was enough for now.

Caedrion spent the coming days not only drilling conscripts, but pouring over sketches and concepts for something entirely new.

A weapon of war no sorcerer could mimic. A weapon of fire, iron, and will.

Where others saw flames as magic, he saw them as fuel, something to be harnessed, directed, and controlled.

Mages excelled currently as a class of warrior elites, but in reality they were far more suited towards industry.

This was something that only a man like Caedrion could possibly understand considering his unique synthesis.

And thus, the same infernal blaze that once threatened to consume Dawnhaven now stoked the furnaces of its salvation.

From those fires, he began to draw the first lines of a cannon that would change warfare as surely as the arquebus had ended the age of plate.

A horizontal sliding breech, patterned loosely after Krupp designs he remembered from another life.

Robust, fast to reload, and durable even under stress.

The recoil system would not rely on springs or hydraulics, but on runes, glyphs etched into reinforced struts that absorbed and redirected the backlash into the ground beneath.

Magical counter-recoil, stabilized chassis, and reinforced alloys blended with enchanted steel: the fusion of gunpowder logic and arcane conductivity.

What emerged from his blueprints was not a primitive field gun, but something altogether modern, sleek, brutal, and efficient.

The shells it would fire were self-contained, like the .410-style cartridges he’d devised for his magitech rifles.

But on a scale unseen in this world. Internal primers ignited by mechanical firing pins, not spells. Rifled barrels forged at an atomic level with muzzle brake notches built in forming a monolithic structure.

A 10cm bore, yet light enough to be hauled by a horse team across plains and mountains alike.

It could be deployed in minutes not hours, and deliver firepower that would tear apart a spellshield and shatter the illusion of magical invulnerability in a single blast.

This was not just a cannon.

It was a message.

And though the blueprints were still scattered across his desk, ink drying, edges curled by the heat of the forge, Caedrion knew, as surely as he knew the beat of his own heart, that this was only the beginning.

The Tyranny of Magic would not fall with sword or spear.

It would fall with iron and flame.

Thus after finishing the draft, he sat back, and sighed heavily as he shook his head.

A smirk upon his face, as he lifted a beer to his future victories.

"If they thought the Magitech rifles in the hands of my levies were terrifying, wait until they face a true modern armor, powered by Magic and Steel alike...."

He rose from his stool, walking toward the tall windows of his study.

Beyond them, the forges roared, casting orange reflections against the vaulted glass like a thousand restless spirits.

He could see workers, his people, laboring not as serfs, but as artisans of a new age.

Steam hissed, arcane welders flared. Assembly cradles turned slowly like sacred relics in motion.

Not because he ordered it. But because they believed.

That was what frightened the world most.

Not Caedrion’s fire. Not his steel.

But that belief had become contagious.

And nothing burned hotter than conviction.

Caedrion took one last look out to the city below, admiring its beauty, and the hearth fires of industry that burned within its walls.

And then he walked away, leaving behind his thoughts to linger on the wind as he did so.

"It is the start of a brave new world...."