Qin Mo slowly finished all the loading work, straightened the dozens of meters of fire rope, and then hid at a distance with Ximan and pulled the rope.
A burst of fireworks was very conspicuous on the beach at night. The shell, carrying sparks, flew hundreds of feet before falling into the sea with a muffled "plop".
"...Your Highness, you...stole the 'Wrath of Thor' from the dwarves?" Seaman's eyes were strange. Although he had never seen the legendary Wrath of Thor, the thunderous roar and the sudden burst of dazzling fire were extremely similar to the characteristics of the Wrath of Thor.
"Thor's Wrath? Seaman, are you crazy? Thor's Wrath is nowhere near as high-end, classy, and sophisticated as ours. Don't lower your own standards! I'll name this... Elf's Wrath."
"................" Ximan felt dizzy. He thought that this great weapon was related to the Elven race. He didn't know whether it was an honor or a misfortune for the Elven race.
Qin Mo only cast a dozen or so round cannonballs. He experimented with different amounts of gunpowder, bombarding a boulder on the beach one shot after another. As the cannonballs became more and more accurate, the two became excited, cheering and jumping for joy as they experienced the power of gunpowder.
"Your Highness, have you stolen the 'Wrath of Thor' from the dwarves?"
"Allen, how can you say such a thing? How could I, a prince of the Great Xia Dynasty, do such a despicable thing? This is my legacy, the tradition I inherited from my mother."
"Allen, Your Highness, this powerful weapon is called... the Wrath of the Elves."
Allen recalled the agony Qin Mo had suffered from being burned alive, the mark on his chest, and his teacher Luna. He suppressed his excitement and agreed.
“Yes, Wrath of the Elves... is a good name.”
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