“It seems His Majesty hasn’t held a single meeting all day, from yesterday until now.” Cumberland, who was invited to the officials’ inauguration banquet, took a sip of his wine and frowned at Emerson, saying, “Pah, this wine tastes like swill!”
As Emerson flipped through the list of officials, he teased, "Your Majesty may have some urgent matters to attend to... You've never been so picky about food before. When you were conquering the barbarian clans, you still drank rainwater mixed with mud with relish, didn't you?"
Cumberland put down his glass, gazing at the actors energetically performing "The Tale of Ortór's Campaign" on the distant stage, and shook his head, saying, "Look at this awful acting, and these gaudy costumes, not to mention the inexplicable background music! These guys haven't captured even a fraction of the tragic grandeur of a war epic. You don't know, the other day I watched that segment about the siege of Samuel, the scene, the atmosphere, and the music—it was simply..."
Emerson interrupted his old friend: "You can't expect a bunch of actors to act out real history. Besides, you've never cared about this kind of entertainment before."
Cumberland sighed, shrugged, and said, "The old saying is true: good times always make people complacent. Besides, having already gotten used to the wine of heaven and seen so much of the truth of history, it's really hard for me to accept these things again."
Emerson closed the book in his hands: "Let's change the subject. What do you think about the Kingdom of Heaven that we discussed in the past?"
“You’re not going to question the existence of Heaven again, are you?!” Cumberland’s face flushed red, and he stroked his mustache. “Look at all those things inside—mirrors that recreate history, images that reveal destiny, and countless machines whose purpose we have no idea. Have you ever seen anything like that in the Bible?!”
“I’m not questioning the existence of Heaven; I’m just helping you clarify the relationship between His Majesty and the Father.” Emerson pointed to the cross on the old knight’s chest: “Just as you said, nothing in Heaven is mentioned in any church scripture. Logically speaking, everything in Heaven cannot be fabricated or imagined; it must be real, so…”
Seeing the old knight still looking confused, Emerson slapped his head in exasperation: "This presents a contradiction. People believe the Son is the Father's apostle, but what this apostle brought is completely incompatible with the teachings of the Father's Church and the Orthodox Church; there seems to be no connection whatsoever. In fact, these things are far more real and reliable than the grand visions in the scriptures..."
Upon hearing this, Cumberland gasped, "You mean?!"
“Think about it carefully, think about what kind of being our Majesty really is.” Emerson left the old knight lost in thought, looked at the stage, took a small sip of red wine, and then spat it onto the ground: “You’re right, this wine is fucking awful!”
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The Craftsmen's Guild of Twilight City, Aiden Colm's secret workshop.
Old Aiden picked up the newly made replica musket, weighed it in his hand, and said with a bitter face, "This thing is almost as heavy as a blacksmith's hammer."
One of the apprentices suggested, "Teacher, why don't we try it now?"
Old Aiden nodded, recalling Todd's instructions, and said, "Bring the experimental equipment, be careful with the sealed chamber, and when firing, use remote ignition. No one is allowed to stand nearby!"
Having found a secluded spot on the outskirts of town, old Aiden directed his apprentices to begin preparations for testing the guns.
The musket was fixed to a wooden frame and aimed at a wooden target ten meters away.
An assistant, carrying a 1.5-meter-long wooden pole with a piece of burning cotton tied to the end, carefully extended it toward the muzzle of the musket.
Old Aiden and the others crouched behind a mound, craning their necks to see what was happening ahead.
boom!
The sound of gunpowder exploding was deafening.
After the smoke cleared, old Aiden rushed to the testing ground and carefully examined the results, which chilled him to the bone.
The powerful recoil sent the musket flying from its wooden frame to the ground, igniting some gunpowder that sprayed out from the breech, scorching the wood and grass.
The wooden target, intended as the attack, remained intact, while the lead bullet that had been fired was nowhere to be found.
Old Aiden, looking distressed, tugged at his beard, already fully imagining how this weapon would perform on the battlefield.
A gunman raised the musket and aimed it at an enemy ten meters away.
The spark ignited the gunpowder, and after a loud bang, the gunman and the enemy fell to the ground simultaneously.
The musket's immense recoil caused the user's arm to dislocate or even break, and the gunpowder that splattered backward burned his skin and even his eyes.
As for the enemy, they were terrified by the loud noise and billowing smoke. After frantically checking their bodies and confirming that they were unharmed, they quickly became enraged and continued their attack.
Watching his assistant present the slightly deformed pistol, wrapped in cloth, to him, old Aiden touched his forehead and shook his head helplessly, saying, "There's still a long way to go..."
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Liliel's Clothing Store in Twilight City.
This is a new store that has only been established for a little over three months, but its reputation is already second to none in the entire Yuexi Plain.
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