Chapter 32

  Regroup and Plan

  “Lyra—find the elder dog woman. Get the children and the noncombatants calmed down before panic sets in.”

  Lyra nodded once, sholdering her bow before jogging off toward the central cluster of survivors.

  Only when the immediate noise started to fade did Luna step toward Lux, her eyes still wide from what she’d witnessed. “You killed it,” she said quietly, disbelief in her tone. “That thing was supposed to be unkillable… and you killed it with one shot.”

  Lux looked at her, expression unreadable. “Guess unkillable’s not what it used to be.

  Luna’s eyes searched his face, like she was trying to read the truth from the set of his jaw.

  “How?” she asked, voice low but firm. “You didn’t just get lucky, Lux. You knew exactly where to hit it. That wasn’t guesswork.”

  He sighed, brushing dust off his sleeve before meeting her gaze. “Every living thing, no matter how big or armored, has weak points. Eyes, joints, unprotected spots where the armor’s thin. That wyvern’s eye was the size of a dinner plate—I didn’t need luck, just a clear shot.”

  Her brow furrowed. “But to bring it down… so fast—”

  “That’s the other part,” Lux cut in, his tone matter-of-fact. “You’ve seen swords and bows all your life. Strong in the right hands, but they’ve got limits. A gun—” he lifted the revolver slightly, the metal catching the fading light— “isn’t about muscle or magic. It’s about force and speed. This thing sends a piece of lead faster than you can blink. Armor doesn’t mean much when the bullet’s moving that quick. Even a wyvern’s skull can’t stop it if you hit the right spot.”

  Luna’s lips parted slightly, her mind turning over what he’d just said. “So… you’re saying with these, we could kill almost anything.”

  Lux nodded slowly. “Almost. You still need skill, ammo, and the right conditions. But yeah—these change the rules. For good… or for bad.”

  She shivered slightly, but not from the cold.

  Luna held he gaze, her breath shallow. There was something in Lux’s eyes—certainty, not arrogance—that made her stomach tighten. She had seen powerful magic before, ancient spells that could tear stone from the earth… but what he’d done was different. It was precise. Cold. Final.

  She glanced at the revolver in his hand, almost afraid to look too long. “With this… we could kill almost anything,” she murmured.

  Lux gave a single nod. “Almost. You still need the skill to hit the right spot, the ammo to keep firing, and the right moment to take the shot.” He looked down at the weapon, turning it slightly so the dim firelight caught the steel. “But yeah—this changes the rules.”

  A shiver ran up her spine. “Lux… that means—”

  “That means,” he interrupted, his tone shifting heavier, “for the stuff we can kill with this, there are bigger guns.”

  Her eyes widened, both awe and dread mixing in her chest. She could already imagine—machines far larger than the revolver, dealing destruction on a scale that could match a dragon’s fire.

  “And you’ve seen them?” she asked quietly.

  “Used them,” he replied simply. His gaze slid past her toward the dark treeline, scanning for movement. “And trust me, Princess… you don’t want to be on the wrong end of those.”

  Luna’s eyes were still fixed on Lux, mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just said. She didn’t know if the thrill in her chest came from the possibilities his weapons offered… or the danger they represented.

  Lux holstered the revolver slowly. “If we keep working, we can change the balance out here. No baron, no mage, no monster—”

  “Lux…” she interrupted softly, searching his face. “If what you say is true… we can’t waste a single one of those shots.”

  He was about to reply when heavy, nervous footsteps approached from behind. Garrick appeared, his hands twisting together, eyes darting toward the forge as if hoping the answer might be sitting there.

  “Lux…” Garrick’s voice cracked. “We… we’re out of metal.”

  Lux turned sharply. “Out? Already?”

  Garrick nodded, swallowing hard. “That means no more guns. No more bullets. Nothing. We’ve scraped every hinge, pan, and scrap nail in this settlement dry. Strenn’s working with what we have left, but… once that’s gone, we’re finished.”

  Luna’s heart sank. The forge, the revolvers—her flicker of hope—it all suddenly felt fragile, like sand slipping between her fingers.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  Lux’s jaw tightened, a shadow passing over his face. “Then we find more. There’s always more.”

  Garrick shifted from foot to foot, wringing his hands. “Listen… because I wasn’t fully seen by Jack or the Blackwood guards, I can still move around Springvale without drawing too much attention. If I go back in, I can withdraw every last coin I have from the bank, head to my shop, gather up all the metal there, and buy more from the smithing district. I can also get ration food stocks—enough to keep everyone here fed for a while.”

  Luna glanced between the two men, uncertainty flashing in her eyes. “That’s… risky,” she murmured.

  Lux’s gaze was sharp, running over Garrick as if measuring him against the dangers. “It could work,” he admitted after a moment, “but only if you wait until morning. It’s getting late, and traveling at night is just asking to get your throat cut by something out there—whether it walks on two legs or four.”

  Garrick gave a curt nod, jaw set. “Morning, then. First light.”

  Lux crossed his arms, the revolver hanging at his hip. “First light,” he confirmed. “You move fast, you keep your head down, and you don’t stop for anything. We can’t afford to lose you—or what you’re bringing.”

  Luna silently studied Lux’s expression. The fact he was already planning around Garrick’s return… it made something in her chest tighten.

  As the others drifted off to prepare for the night, Luna lingered near the wall, her mind churning. Garrick’s plan made sense—too much sense to dismiss—but leaving him to walk into Springvale alone, unprotected, was asking for trouble.

  She found Lyra standing watch near the gate, her bow resting lightly in her hands.

  “Lyra,” Luna said quietly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Lux was still talking with Strenn by the forge. “At first light, Garrick will be heading into Springvale. I want you to follow him—quietly. No contact unless he’s in danger. Make sure he returns with the supplies… or warn us if he doesn’t.”

  Lyra’s sharp eyes narrowed. “Without telling Lux?”

  Luna’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He’d order me to keep everyone here, and Garrick wouldn’t go if he thought we didn’t trust him. This way, no one’s pride is bruised, and we still keep our people safe.”

  Lyra gave a slow nod. “Understood.”

  The next morning, when Garrick set off, Lyra slipped out a few minutes later, hugging the shadows between the trees. She stopped just at the forest’s edge, crouching low.

  Garrick glanced around once, never spotting her, before heading toward the city road. Lyra waited a heartbeat, then ghosted after him, keeping to the underbrush—far enough to stay unseen, close enough to strike if anything moved on him.

  Back in the settlement, Lux didn’t notice the missing archer. His focus was already on the forge, the map spread across the worktable, and the thousand new dangers looming over them.

  Lyra's pov

  Lyra kept to the tree line, every footstep silent, her eyes locked on Garrick’s back as he made his way toward the road.

  When the clustered rooftops of Springvale came into view, she froze. Even from this distance, she could see them—pairs of robed figures at the gates, each radiating that distinct, unnatural stillness that only battle-trained mages carried. The faint shimmer of wards flickered between their hands as they scanned every newcomer.

  Lyra’s grip tightened on her bow. If she stepped any closer, they’d feel her presence before she got within arrow range.

  She crouched low in the brush, shadowed by the last line of trees, and watched as Garrick approached the outer checkpoint.

  One of the mages looked him over, his eyes glowing faintly with a detection spell. Garrick stood calm, almost bored, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. After a brief exchange with the guards, the heavy gates creaked open.

  Lyra’s jaw tightened as he walked through and disappeared into the streets beyond. The doors slammed shut, leaving her with nothing but the sight of armed men pacing along the walls and the faint hum of magical wards overhead.

  She pulled back into deeper cover, her mind already running through the worst-case scenarios—and how fast she could get back to warn Luna if Garrick didn’t return.

  Back at the settlement 2 days have passed.

  The forge crackled softly, the glow from the small furnace painting the walls in flickering orange light. Lux leaned against the anvil, rolling his shoulder, still stiff from the fight 2 days ago.

  Luna stood opposite him, arms crossed, though her eyes kept drifting to the revolver resting on the bench. “Garrick’s taking to take a risk going back,” she said quietly. “If he’s caught—”

  “He knows the risks,” Lux cut in, voice low but steady. “If he pulls it off, we’ve got metal, food, maybe enough to get through the next week without scraping for every scrap.”

  Her gaze lingered on him, as if weighing whether he was reassuring her or himself. “And if he doesn’t?”

  Lux exhaled slowly, eyes drifting toward the barred door. “Then we adapt. We keep moving, and we make do with what we have.”

  The pause between them stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts. She hated how her chest tightened when she caught him staring back, that strange mix of stubbornness and determination in his expression.

  Outside, the night wind howled through the broken rafters, rattling loose wood like distant bones.

  Luna’s voice broke the silence. “We should plan for the worst… just in case Garrick doesn’t come back.”

  Lux nodded once, pushing away from the anvil. “Then let’s make sure no one gets caught off guard again.”

  The forge’s warmth was almost hypnotic, the only sound the occasional pop of coal and the faint, metallic hiss of cooling iron. Lux leaned forward on the anvil, running a hand over the cold steel surface, lost in thought.

  Luna lingered across from him, her arms no longer crossed, hands resting lightly on the edge of the workbench. Her eyes, though, weren’t on the revolver anymore—they were on him.

  “You know…” she began, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it, “when I first met you, I didn’t think you’d last a week. You were… reckless. And you didn’t understand how dangerous this place is.”

  Lux smirked faintly. “Still here, though.”

  “Yes,” she admitted, a small, almost reluctant smile ghosting her lips. “And not just here. You’ve… given them something I couldn’t.” She glanced toward the door, where muffled laughter of children drifted in from the next room. “Hope.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And you think I planned that?”

  She shook her head, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I think you just can’t help yourself. You see something broken, and you try to fix it. No matter the risk.”

  Lux straightened, the playful smirk fading into something more guarded. “And you? You keep testing me, Luna. Throwing me into fights, sending me into danger… sometimes I wonder if you’re hoping I’ll fail.”

  Her gaze snapped up, startled. “That’s not—” She cut herself off, exhaling slowly. “I test you because… because I don’t want to lose you. Not like I’ve lost everyone else.”

  The fire’s glow deepened the gold in her eyes, making them seem almost fragile. For a heartbeat, the walls between them felt thinner than ever.

  Lux didn’t press. He just nodded once. “Then let’s make sure neither of us gets lost.”