Evelyn's POV
After discussing everything with my parents, it was decided that my father, Mr. Darius, and Mr. Gareth would handle the business side of things. They would decide how to move forward, how to divide the profit, and how to keep everything organized.
Lucas was the one who suggested building something he called a shooting range—a place not only to practice with the guns but also to sell them. The idea was simple, but it made sense. A safe, controlled environment where adventurers and knights could train without accidentally hurting themselves or others.
Mr. Gareth, with his sharp merchant's foresight, had already registered the gun's design with the king. That meant if anyone tried to copy it, they would need our permission—and pay for it. Of course, if they designed something new that was distinct from ours, they were free to sell it without owing us anything. That was the rule, and I could already see how quickly others would try to make their own versions.
One afternoon, while the shooting range was still under construction, Mr. Darius visited us with something new. He carried a weapon slightly larger than the original gun, with a longer barrel.
"This one can only hold four bullets at a time," he explained, placing it on the table carefully. "But the spark spell carved into the casing is stronger. Strong enough that only a stage three cultivator or higher could handle the recoil."
Lucas' eyes widened with excitement. "So… it's stronger than the revolver?"
"Yes," Mr. Darius said with a grin. "Strong enough to wound someone at stage three cultivation."
I raised a brow. That's impressive… and a little concerning. He had already asked Mr. Gareth to register the new design with the royal archives. I didn't fully understand the bureaucracy behind it, but I trusted their judgment.
Within three months, the shooting range was finally complete. As expected, most of our customers were adventurers. Word spread quickly, and before long, we were already talking about opening another branch in a nearby town.
It didn't take long for others to reverse-engineer our design and release their own versions, each slightly different. I wasn't bothered by competition. There were too many cultivators in the world for us to monopolize such a weapon, and with my mother's influence as a stage six cultivator, nobody dared to cross us directly.
A battle between stage six cultivators would be devastating. People still whispered about the Barrens Land, created by nothing more than a stage five undead king. If stage five could do that, the destruction stage six cultivators could unleash was unthinkable. Nobody wanted to provoke that kind of power.
My brother mentioned to me one evening that among lower-level cultivators, guns had become a trend.
"Especially with nobles," he said with a shake of his head. "They're commissioning guns covered in gold, with fancy carvings. They want theirs to stand out, even if it doesn't make the weapon any stronger."
I couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds exactly like nobles. Always trying to look important—even with a weapon that's meant to be practical."
---
First Day at the Range
When the range finally opened, I went to see how people would react to their first shots. The training area had sturdy wooden partitions, reinforced targets, and runes carved into the walls to absorb stray mana.
A group of young adventurers were the first to try. One of them, a boy barely older than Lucas, picked up a revolver nervously.
"So I just… pull the trigger?" he asked.
Lucas nodded, grinning. "Aim at the target. Don't worry, it won't bite."
The boy fired—and yelped as the recoil jerked his hand back. The bullet hit the target, but nowhere near the center. His friends laughed, though not unkindly.
"Too much for you?" one teased.
The boy scowled and steadied himself for another shot. This time, the recoil didn't knock him back as much, and the bullet struck closer to the bullseye.
An older adventurer stepped up next, a woman with a scar across her cheek. She held the gun with confidence, fired three times in quick succession, and hit dead center with all of them.
Her companions whistled. "Looks like someone found her new favorite weapon."
The woman smirked. "Faster than a crossbow. Lighter than a spear. I could get used to this."
Watching them, I realized something. The gun wasn't meant to replace cultivators or mages. But for ordinary adventurers… this really could change everything.
---
Meanwhile, Sarah was still operating deep within the Barrens Land, silently hunting down vampire remnants who had once tried to assassinate Lucas. Her efficiency kept our enemies on edge.
Arthur, on the other hand, was gaining fame as the so-called Hero. That worked perfectly as a distraction, letting Lucas live a relatively normal childhood—or as close to normal as it could be for him.
Lucas spent more and more of his time involved with the development and sale of guns. While I personally wasn't as interested in the finer details, I could see the passion in his eyes every time he explained a new design.
"This one's going to change everything," he told me once, holding up a sketchbook full of notes and diagrams.
I smiled faintly. He's still just a boy, but at least he's found something to look forward to. A passion, a hobby, and maybe even a future.