Firearms in a Fantasy World

Translator: Cinder Translations

...

The gently flickering candlelight cast a weak glow, imprinting a hunched shadow on the pristine white wall.

This was a room within the Scholar's Tower in the capital of the Gabella Empire. An elderly man with a completely white beard and hair was buried amidst a pile of books and scrolls, meticulously flipping through pages as if searching for some information.

Outside, the sound of the clock tower's bells rang out. The ancient and melodious chime reverberated over the entire city, announcing the arrival of midnight. Yet, the old man seemed not to hear it, continuing to immerse himself in the books.

The door to the room quietly opened not far away, and a young man holding a candlestick walked in. He whispered, "Master, it's already midnight. You really should rest."

"What? It's that late already?"

Only then did the old man close the heavy tome in his hands and pull out a handkerchief to rub his tired eyes. "I should indeed get a good night's sleep. Hmm... give me a hand. This old body is getting more and more useless."

The young man put down the candlestick and slowly helped the old man to his feet.

"At today's meeting before the Emperor, everyone was very curious about what you've been doing these past few days. Even His Majesty privately asked me about it again."

"Haha, it must have been quite a headache for you to make up a suitable excuse on the spot, right?"

"Uh..." The young man named Mond hesitated awkwardly for a moment. "Is that meteor from a few days ago really worth such attention?"

As soon as he said this, the smile on the old man's face froze, and his slightly furrowed brow showed that his mind was no longer at peace.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you."

Seeing the old man's serious expression, Mond felt ashamed.

"Sigh, Mond, I'm not blaming you. Being bold enough to question is a good quality."

The old man quickly reassured him. "Indeed, I can't stop worrying about this meteor. I also hope I'm just overthinking it. If, unfortunately, it brings disaster as recorded in the ancient scrolls, then according to previous descriptions, this catastrophe will far exceed our imagination. Let me tell you about the previous occurrences first."

He then unfolded a parchment scroll and began to slowly narrate his findings over the past few days...

...

In a dark alley next to the capital's clock tower, a shadowy figure silently walked in, accompanied by the lingering sound of the bells. Cloaked and moving away from the moonlight, he slowly proceeded deeper into the alley, his face always shrouded in the shadow of his hood.

At the first corner, he stopped.

"Why are you so late today?"

A rough voice sounded. Another cloaked figure, who had been waiting there, spoke, his face also hidden under his hood, faintly revealing a thick beard.

"A storm is coming. We need to make more preparations."

"What kind of preparations?"

"Ropes, canvas, and harpoons."

The bearded man nodded. "With these, we can safely set out to sea. Go ahead, we will be praying for you at the port's church."

Then he disappeared into the shadows. After confirming there was nothing unusual around, the first cloaked man also left.

...

Back in the Scholar's Tower, the old man's narration had ended for a while, but Mond's forehead was now covered in cold sweat.

After a long silence, Mond finally spoke, "If that's the case, shouldn't we immediately report to His Majesty and warn the people?"

"No, we know nothing about the disaster itself. We don't know in what form it will occur, when exactly it will come, or how to effectively respond. Revealing it too early would be useless and would instead cause widespread panic, even giving some ill-intentioned people an opportunity."

"You're right. I was too rash."

The old man's disciple looked slightly ashamed.

The old man opened the window, and a rush of fresh air quickly filled the room. He looked out at the low night sky and murmured:

"A storm is coming..."

(End of Chapter)