"A... gun?" Lady Diana's voice trembled, not from fear, but intrigue. Her eyes, normally calm and commanding, sparkled with curiosity as she leaned forward to examine Dante's creation.
"Yes, Lady Diana," Dante replied, holding the sleek, silver weapon with pride. "It's called a gun. To use it, you simply channel your mana into it. See this bar here on the handle?" He gestured toward a slim, glassy strip embedded into the side of the weapon. "It measures how much mana it's absorbed."
The fill bar was completely empty, clear and waiting.
"Care to do the honors?" Dante offered the weapon respectfully.
"Certainly, dear boy," Lady Diana said, her tone softening. She accepted the weapon with grace, turning it in her palm, inspecting every curve and corner. As she gently pushed her mana into the core of the gun, a glowing blue essence began to slither through the fill bar, like water filling a narrow tube.
Then—
Beep.
A faint sound echoed from the weapon.
"Oh my!" Diana gasped, momentarily pulling her hands back. "Did I break it?"
Dante laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, Lady Diana. You didn't destroy anything. That sound just means it's full. No more mana can enter until some is used."
Relieved, Diana handed the weapon back to him, her expression somewhere between awe and concern.
Dante turned to the old blacksmith nearby. "Hey, old man, got any scrap metal lying around? Something heavy. Let's make this fun."
The gruff man nodded and, with the help of a few Ruthwilfer children, hauled a rusted metal slab some fifty meters away and propped it upright.
Dante spun the gun in his hand, looping his finger through the trigger guard with a practiced flair. He pulled back the slider with one hand, locking it into place.
"Time to show you all the fun part."
He raised the gun, aimed at the slab—and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The thunderous explosion echoed through the forge chamber. Everyone recoiled instinctively, hands rushing to cover ears. Diana flinched. Evan's brow twitched. Even Sean, ever the composed one, looked shaken.
Smoke sizzled from the gun's barrel. A clean hole had been punched through the center of the scrap slab.
"My, my," Diana whispered. "What a fascinating technique."
"But that's not all," Dante said as he walked back to the table, already disassembling the gun piece by piece. Springs, screws, and metal parts clicked as they came apart.
"You broke it, lad," the old blacksmith muttered with a grunt.
Dante smirked. "Didn't you say 'crazy'? Well, here's the crazier part." In a flash, he reassembled the weapon with swift, sure fingers.
Sean blinked. "Wait, you can do that?"
"Yup. Kinda disturbed me drawing up the plans, honestly, but hey—worth it."
"Can I give it a go, lad?" asked the old smith, eyes shining.
"Of course. Everyone should get a turn. But remember—three key things: dexterity, precision, and speed."
The children of the forge gathered close, eager to hear more.
"Dexterity," Dante began, "is like holding a sword. If your grip's shaky, even the best aim's useless."
"Precision," he continued, "means using your mana smartly. You don't want to waste a full charge just trying to hit one target. Control your mana, focus it, then release."
"And speed?" He smiled. "Speed means keeping your cool. When the trigger's hot and the stakes are high, hesitation gets you killed. React fast—but hit right."
A slow clap rang out. Lady Diana applauded, followed by Sean. Then the blacksmith, the Ruthwilfer children, and even some of the assistants joined in.
Only two did not.
Taka scoffed, arms folded. Beside him, his father Evan remained stone-faced.
"I think we already know who the real winner is, Sean," Diana said quietly.
"I believe so, Great-Grandlady Diana," Sean replied with a nod. "Dante wins this challenge."
"You've got to be kidding!" Taka roared, face reddening.
He stormed forward, weapon in hand. "No way can this loser beat my sword!"
In one violent motion, he raised his blade to strike.
But Dante was faster.
His reflexes, honed by a lifetime of survival, kicked in. He drew the gun and fired two quick shots.
BANG! BANG!
Taka froze.
The clang of metal echoed as fragments of his blade fell to the floor. He stared in disbelief. His weapon—split in two.
"EVAN!" Diana's voice cut through the silence like a whip.
Evan flinched.
"Control your son, or I will see to it myself! First, the sparring incident two years ago. Now this?!"
Evan swallowed hard. "Don't worry, Lady Diana. I'll make sure Taka faces punishment."
He grabbed Taka by the arm and dragged him away, the boy fuming.
Diana turned, her gaze sharp on Dante. Her voice dropped to a lower pitch, stern but not unkind. "You too will be punished. You attacked without provocation."
Dante surprised everyone. "Understood. I pulled the trigger. That counts as an attack. I accept my punishment."
His tone was calm. Unshaken.
Diana sighed. "Sean, dismiss the children for today."
"Yes, Great-Grandlady."
The young instructor gathered the kids and escorted them from the grounds.
Left alone with her thoughts, Diana pinched the bridge of her nose.
"These two... always up to their necks."
A shadow moved behind her.
"Lady Diana," came the voice of her bodyguard, Fina. "What about the ball tonight? Dante won fair and square. But Evan... he'll protect Taka. He always does."
"I know," Diana said quietly. "And Taka wants to prove himself. Just like Dante."
She turned her gaze to the gun on the table.
"Hide that," she ordered the blacksmith. "And the plans. The world isn't ready for this, not until Dante..... ."
The smith nodded solemnly and took both away.
---
Dante sat in the cold chamber, awaiting his sentence.
The door creaked open. In stepped the punisher—and behind him, Evan Ruthwilfer.
"You should've died that night," Evan hissed. "An infant. Powerless. But now... at least there's one less rival."
Dante didn't flinch.
Then he laughed.
Mocking. Cold.
Evan scowled. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing," Dante said, still smiling. "Just thinking of ways to kill."
"You?" Evan sneered. "Kill? With what? No mana, no talent—"
"First one to forge an unknown weapon though," Dante said with a mocking wink.
"You'll never see daylight again," Evan snapped, turning away.
The punisher stepped forward. "Sorry, kid. Evan wants this to hurt."
Dante gave a casual nod. "Do your job. I'll do mine."
The punishment began.
A cane. Salted ice water. Beatings. Each blow echoing in the chamber like thunder. Dante's body was a canvas of bruises, blood, and pain.
Then, the punisher struck with a mana-infused punch—electric energy surging through his fist.
THUD.
Dante slammed into the wall, breath knocked from his lungs.
The door burst open.
"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING?!"
Lady Diana came in to check on Dante but was now furious on what was going on. Beside her, Will Ruthwilfer, clan patriarch, glared in stunned silence.
They rushed to Dante's side.
Will's hands trembled as he examined the boy's body. He could feel it—his curse. A deadly one, dormant but awakening.
"Healing him isn't enough," Diana whispered. She closed her eyes—and summoned forbidden magic.
Her life essence surged outward.
In a flash, Dante's wounds vanished. He blinked. Alive. Healed. But Diana collapsed.
Dante caught her.
"Get her to her bed," he said to Will, voice low.
Will lifted her gently. "Be grateful, illegitimate son. Not many get this kind of opportunity."
---
"Still hiding in the shadows?" Dante asked as he was now alone in the chamber.
Dante turned. Fina stepped into view.
"My lady's taken quite an interest in you," she said.
"I remember when you nearly drew your blade on me," he replied.
"I follow Lady Diana to the death," she said firmly.
"And I respect that loyalty."
They stood in silence for a moment.
"The ball is tonight," Fina said. "Taka and Evan will be there."
"And let me guess... Taka's been promoted to the adult section?"
Fina nodded.
Dante cracked his neck, his wrists and grinned. "Did Lady Diana…?"
"She gave her approval. Under her name, you're attending."
"That's more than enough." He smiled wide. "Tonight, I'll set the stage on fire."
---
Chapter 5 — End