Once enough Arquebuses were made, Duke Vardon summoned several of the top non-aura users amongst his soldiers. Despite not having any Aura, they had survived numerous battles in the North. Their experience was unmatched among the non-Aura users.
They had proven their loyalty to the Dukedom numerous times. Even Sir Thalos had vouched for them.
The group of people didn't know why they were called, but they did not question the order given by Iron Duke himself. They waited inside a heavily guarded area, as if a priceless treasure were hidden within.
The place they were in now was like a large training ground with several training dummies seen in the distance.
It was a confusing setup. If this was just a training ground, why were the dummies placed so far away?
At this distance, the only thing that could hit those training dummies was a third-circle spell, which, of course, none of them could do.
The group of soldiers was looking around in confusion while talking to each other, wondering why they were called to such a place. In the midst of their discussion, the Iron Duke arrived.
The moment the Iron Duke appeared, the entire area fell silent as the soldiers stood at attention. Behind the Iron Duke were two other people. One was an old man, and someone all of them knew, the former Knight Vahn.
The third figure was a well-built youth they didn't recognize, but his presence beside the Iron Duke spoke volumes about his importance. That person was, of course, Lucen Thornehart.
"My soldiers, I have called upon you for an important task." The Iron Duke's voice cut clean through the open courtyard like a blade through fresh snow.
"What you are about to see is something that will change the way we deal with the monster waves. This is something that will save many soldiers that we lose every time, either a monster wave comes or one of the barbarian tribes, which come to do battle. This is the weapon that will protect our beloved kingdom from all threats. This is the future!"
As his father spoke, Lucen silently loaded the arquebus, lit the match cord, and took aim.
The thundering roar of the shot stunned the gathered soldiers. Some instinctively reached for their swords, others flinched as the echo rolled across the training field, but none spoke. The training dummy's head had been partially obliterated.
The dull glow of the match cord, the iron smell of powder, it was like nothing the seasoned veterans had ever seen.
One of the older soldiers, a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek, blinked in disbelief. "Was that magic?"
"My soldiers," the Iron Duke spoke once more, his voice cold and firm, "what you just witnessed was not a spell. It was not Aura. That was a tool similar to a crossbow, but far deadlier."
He gestured to Lucen, who stepped forward and held the arquebus upright, the barrel still faintly warm.
"This," Vardon continued, "is an arquebus. A weapon anyone can wield. A weapon that will give even those without Aura or Mana the power to slay enemies from afar. This young man is my son, Lucen. He and Vahn will instruct you in its use."
He looked at each soldier in turn, his gaze sharp as a whetted blade. "Train hard. Master this weapon. With it, we will defend Norvaegard from any threat."
The soldiers pounded their right hands to their chests in salute. Vardon returned the gesture.
"For Norvaegard! For Stellhart!"
Vahn, ever the pragmatic one, wasted no time. He clapped his hands and barked, "Enough standing around! You're soldiers, not wide-eyed recruits. Fall in! Two rows!"
The men swiftly formed up. The older ones moved with the efficiency of countless drills; the younger ones followed their lead, stiff-backed and alert.
Vahn nodded to Lucen, who stood beside a crate of supplies. "We start with the basics. Listen to him. Disrespect this weapon, and it will kill you."
Once Vahn and Lucen started, Vardon left.
...
The soldiers learned the fundamentals: loading, firing, and reloading. Once that was covered, Lucen stepped back and left the rest to Vahn.
Lucen, who was in his room, was looking at the notes he had written the day he remembered his past life's memories.
'Even with Sir Thalos's help, my growth has slowed. I've strengthened the North's army—given them arquebuses, secured Duskwell as an ally, but I'm still not strong enough. I need to get stronger before the next monster wave or before the territorial wars... Without levels, how am I supposed to unlock the rest of the Gun Mage's skills...?'
Lucen once again asked a question that no one could answer. He set the notes down and leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet sigh.
'I already trained hard enough that this once lanky body has now become incredibly sturdy for someone my age, but I still could not gain Aura. There's a possibility that training isn't enough; I need to have a real battle.'
Lucen stood up from his chair and looked outside his window. The snow wasn't as heavy as usual, and the roads were clearer.
"This might be a good time to go out on an adventure... Now that I think about it, I haven't left this place ever."
All of his memories were here; the only thing he ever did was swing his sword, trying so hard to gain recognition. Lucen then unconsciously looked at his hands. There were many scars, bruises, and calluses on his hands. This wasn't the hand of a twelve-year-old kid.
Before and after he regained his past life memories, the child called Lucen Thornehart had never done anything another would call fun. Lucen, whose thoughts were starting to wander, shook his head.
'There are several items nearby that could increase my strength. Maybe when I go out, I'll try to find those things. Still, first things first, I got to get permission.'
If possible, Lucen wanted to simply go out by himself, but of course, he would be blocked by the soldier, and even if he tried to sneak out with his level of skill, he would be spotted immediately.
...
Once he made up his mind, Lucen went to meet his father. As he was now facing his father, he once again felt his overwhelming presence.
Lucen snapped his heels together and placed his right hand over his chest in salute. "Requesting permission to speak, sir."
Vardon's brow twitched slightly, but he gave a curt nod.
"I wish to leave the estate and travel outside the northern fortress for a period of time to conduct independent field training and resource gathering," Lucen said, his tone firm and precise. "My objective is to gain real battle experience."
Vardon set his pen down. "You wish to leave... alone."
"Yes, sir."
"You are twelve."
"Yes, sir."
"You are not an Aura user."
"Not yet, sir."
Vardon leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing. 'It seems that even though he seems mature, he is a twelve-year-old.'
"State your reasoning, and do not waste my time."
Lucen's hand stayed firmly against his chest as he responded.
"Sir, I believe the training regimen I've been following under Sir Thalos has yielded diminishing returns. Despite consistent physical conditioning and mana exercises, I have hit a plateau. The body has become strong, but the mind requires combat experience. The next stage of growth, as seen in the past knights, only occurs under real pressure. Aura is often awakened in moments of life-and-death trial."
The way Lucen answered was nothing like how a twelve-year-old would speak, but here in the north, in the household of the Thornehart, this was not that abnormal.
"Your life is valuable to this house," Vardon replied, unmoved. "If you die, it will be by my command, not foolishness."
"That would be normal if you sent one of your inexperienced soldiers out, but I'm a Thornehart! The children of the Thornehart need to uphold a certain standard. The First Duke of Stellhart, of Norvaegard, the blade of the king, Duke Edric Thornehart. At a similar age of twelve, he was in a mercenary camp, going from one battlefield to another."
Lucen's voice was becoming firmer as he spoke.
"Duke Richard Thornehart, at the age of twelve, slayed a nest of goblins barehanded. Elizabeth Thornehart, at the age of twelve, had defeated a wounded ogre with her sword. Duke Vardon joined his first monster wave defense at the age of nine. A Thornehart isn't one born from talent alone, a Thornehart is forged through battle!"
Vardon's gaze didn't leave Lucen's for quite some time. Then he spoke, slowly.
"... You are right. We are not nobles of silk and song. We are born in frost and forged by steel. Fine, if you wish to leave, then I shall allow it."
Vardon's fingers drummed once against his desk. "You will face more than beasts out there. Not all monsters walk on four legs."
"Then I will face them as a Thornehart without fear and with steel."
Vardon's stony face had his lip curved upward a little.
"How long do you think your little expedition will last?"
"Two months, it would take around two months," Lucen answered without hesitation.
"Fine, I shall give you two months. When will you leave?"
"I'll leave in a week, I need to prepare first."
"Very well, make your preparations... Is there anything else that you want?"
"No, Sir."
"Then you may leave."
Lucen gave a knight's salute and turned to leave. Just before stepping out, he murmured, barely audible even to himself.
"Thank you, Father."
Normal people wouldn't be able to hear what was said, but an aura user like Vardon, who had superhuman senses, heard what his son said.
"Hmph, what a troublesome son you are," Vardon replied in an empty room with a soft smile on his face.