Chapter 209
Target (2)
But he was going to have to practice somehow. To use mana bullets, you first had to get the mana into them. After years of engineering and because of the difficulty of working with hot weapons, the circuits were far more complicated than a cold weapon.
That made the risk of backlash much higher if IAM failed to direct the mana properly—which could be extremely dangerous.
For practice, he didn't use mana bullets. He used normal bullets. He would slowly feed mana through the small red needle on KASSARA's trigger, stopping just before it reached the bullet, and then fire normally.
It was slow, demanding focus and effort for every shot, but it was absolutely necessary.
To give perspective, a cold weapon might have anywhere from one to fifteen circuits. They were relatively straightforward. In combat, an ascender could feed mana through them without much risk of error, even with distractions all around.
A hot weapon, though, had hundreds of circuits. That meant in the chaos of a real fight, with attacks coming from all directions, the user had to get everything right as often as possible. Every misstep carried the potential for serious injury, or even death. It required a level of control and awareness that few could maintain under pressure.
That's why, even in a society as advanced as theirs, most ascenders preferred cold weapons. They were simpler, safer, and let a person rely more on skill and strategy rather than the danger of misdirected power.
But, of course, with disadvantages came strengths. The power of hot weapons, when used correctly, far outstripped that of cold weapons. The circuits inside them could handle more energy, deliver more force, and due to it being a hot weapon far more dangerous—if the user had the control to manage it.
And the risk of the mech being corroded or damaged by Deadline creatures was almost negligible, which made the effort worthwhile.
As long as IAM could master both the sword and KASSARA, he would be a formidable opponent. Not unbeatable, but certainly someone few would underestimate.
During one of his training sessions with Henry, he had discovered something interesting about himself: he was ambidextrous. It hadn't been intentional. He had been mostly using his right hand by default, until the realization hit him. His left hand was just as capable, even though he hadn't consciously trained it all that much.
Henry had shrugged when IAM told him. "Even if you weren't, I would have forced you to train your left hand too," he said matter-of-factly.
When IAM asked if Henry himself was ambidextrous, Henry had shook his head. No, he wasn't naturally ambidextrous—he had trained his left hand over time until it became as capable as his right.
IAM had asked Reuel the same question. Reuel was naturally ambidextrous, able to use his right hand as well as his preferred left. Yohan had given the same answer—ambidextrous by nature.
For IAM, it didn't matter how he had come to it. The ability itself expanded what he could do. It opened possibilities he hadn't considered before: sword in one hand, KASSARA in the other, moving fluidly between both without hesitation. It gave him an edge, a flexibility in combat few could match without years of training.
But all of that was just potential and possibilities. The hard part now was actually achieving it.
The other functions of KASSARA didn't matter for now. Today was about shooting practice.
IAM raised his right hand and gripped the frame. Its silhouette was still reminiscent of a Glock 18.
The barrel measured 5.5 inches. That length gave more velocity, better control, and greater stability during full-auto bursts.
At the end of the barrel was a compensator. It reduced recoil, especially during continuous fire, helping IAM keep control when the weapon tried to jump.
On top sat a micro red dot sight—a MRDS. It could be turned on or off depending on the situation.
The grip was stippled and custom-textured for his hand. It wouldn't slip, not even when sweat or blood made things messy. An undercut trigger guard allowed a higher grip, giving better leverage and recoil control.
There was also an ambidextrous selector, letting him switch between semi and full auto with ease.
The body was coated in deep gray Cerakote, matte and cool to the touch, reflecting almost no light.
The trigger was flat-faced. Near its center, a tiny red needle glimmered. That was the conduit for mana—each bullet could be infused, empowered, carrying extra force when IAM channeled his energy through it.
But IAM wasn't going to be using mana bullets today.
He rested KASSARA on the shooting station and adjusted his stance. His right hand gripped the frame firmly, left supporting lightly underneath. The first step was feeding mana through the circuits. Slowly and carefully, he let the energy flow, following the small red needle on the trigger.
The mana flowed along the circuits, the coils humming faintly as it traced the barrel. IAM stopped just short of the bullet—these were normal rounds, and they couldn't handle the mana. If it reached them, the bullet would explode. He let the energy stabilize, then squeezed the trigger. The round fired.
He repeated the process. Mana flowed, stabilized, shot fired. Each cycle demanded his full attention. Every circuit had to respond perfectly. His focus narrowed; everything outside the lane fell away.
The third round didn't go as planned. He hesitated for too long, letting the mana through unevenly. A sharp, hot pressure shot up through his chest and temples. His nose bled, a thin trickle running down to his lips. He wiped it quickly and refocused. Every failure was his own fault and any lapse in control was punished instantly.
He tried again. This time a small burst of backlash forced blood into his mouth. He swallowed quickly, took a breath, and pushed forward. There was no need to panic. He just had to keep trying and focus until he became accustomed to it.
A little bit of pain and discomfort was fine.
He repeated the process over and over, alternating between slight adjustments and careful observation of his control. Infuse the mana, stop just short of the bullet, stabilize the circuits, fire. Stop. Adjust. Repeat.
Minutes passed. Each shot required full focus. By the time he ran out of rounds, his arms ached, sweat dripped down his face, and his breathing was steady but deep. Small streaks of blood marred his lips and fingers, minor injuries from the occasional backlash, but nothing serious.
He lowered KASSARA, wiped the weapon down, and looked at the lane. It was exhausting work, but necessary. Every shot, successful or not, was practice.
He had shot thirty rounds, and after looking at his work... He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the target again...
Five had actually hit the target. Two struck the leg, one landed near the chest, and another grazed an arm. The rest… well, they hadn't hit where they were meant to...
IAM wasn't going to dwell on it. After all, he had to focus on many things at once—feeding mana, direct it through the circuits, stopping just short of the bullet—and his accuracy would naturally be lower because of that. Compared to before, though, he had actually improved a decent amount.
It was just… he would perhaps have to include… just… a little more training sessions with KASSARA.
His core was almost drained, even though he had used only the minimal amount of mana for each shot. The repeated focus and strain had taken their toll.
Glancing around, he had saw only two people nearby. And they weren't paying him any attention—too busy with their own things—so he wasn't worried about being noticed using his avien and showing the circulation of an experienced ascender.
Butt now, with the practice done, he quickly turned it off.