Chapter 11: I Have a Dream...

Having alighted from the carriage in front of the manor, Anta had her carriage take her three friends home, then followed Durin into the estate.

As soon as they entered the main gate, Xialu, who was cleaning the hall, ran over to Durin and Anta: "The master came back and left again. He said when the young master returns, you should stay at home. Oh, and Miss Hemo, I have already fed her some meat."

"I know," Durin said while lifting Xialu for a high five. Xialu was at most ninety centimeters tall, only reaching up to Durin's chest—it was a mystery why she was so petite; perhaps she was a half-blood.

Xialu was a bit embarrassed; she had no idea that Durin was merely looking for a cat to pet. Since he couldn't pet a big cat, he settled for what he could get.

Durin adored such a golden little kitty. Even though she was three years older than Durin in this life, cuteness was still cuteness.

Anta smiled, patted the head of Xialu whom Durin had set down, and said, "Do your work well, Durin and I don't need your help here."

"Yes, I'll keep cleaning." Xialu took her broom and resumed her work.

Durin turned to look at the second floor where his pet owl Hemo was perched on the banister, her large eyes fixed on her master.

Giving a nod to his big girl, Durin took Anta into his workshop, which was on the other side of the kitchen and served as Durin's crucial armory.

It was the main source of income in Durin's business, incomparable to things like copying books.

"Are you making your new gun again?" As soon as she entered, Anta exclaimed at the various firearms on the wall, clearly noticing that there were a few more odd and fascinating guns than before.

Considering practicality, most of the guns Durin made were pistols, primarily revolvers and Glock replicas.

Of course, there were also three long guns, but they were all shotguns; as for rifles...well, there were many reasons why, but the primary one was that after Durin had dislocated his arm twice from the recoil of his homemade rifles, he decided not to consider full-power rifle ammunition until he could come up with recoilless stocks.

After all, everyone was using full-power cartridges at that time. Durin had tried reduced-power cartridges only to find that small caliber reduced-power bullets couldn't penetrate the hide of outdoor monsters, while large caliber full-power bullets almost caused him habitual dislocations—an embarrassment that could be thrown as far as Lublin.

And the blueprints for the full-power automatic rifles were now locked in the safe at the Engineering Academy, the old-timers deeming the invention too advanced for the times.

Among the shotguns, the first Durin made was a double-barreled hunting shotgun with long barrels, ample sights, a pistol grip, and an additional handle below the barrels for easy use with both hands. This design earned Durin his entry into the Craftsmen's Guild—the officers, after using the new shotgun, said that shotguns had never felt so naturally an extension of their arms, hitting precisely where aimed.

The second was a replica of the M870, the key to Durin's rise within the Craftsmen's Guild, dubbed the "Durin Model 11" (the 11 was his age when he made the gun, signifying the recognition of his status as a gunsmith). The police force and the Hunters Guild throughout the Eastern Elven Territory had nothing but praise for this gun and its various modified versions—from the "Durin 11 Large Caliber Variant" designed for targets over two meters tall (with 12-shot magazines and large calibers such as #8, #6, and even #4, with barrels of various lengths), to the "Durin 11 Mini Variant" for the Grassland Elves (with a 3-shot magazine, ultra-short barrel, and no stock), and even the rifled barrels for steel core slugs.

This gun could be said to be the culmination of Durin's work—featuring quickly detachable stocks, various iron sights (including two-times scopes and small iron sights on the side of the barrel), a fore-end with an Arcane Flashlight, horizontal and constricting muzzles, and just about anything that could be manufactured.

The evaluation of this gun in the Human World was simply three words: sold like crazy—nobility from various human nations now wouldn't go hunting without a "Durin Model 11 Hunter Variant" (three-times scope, rifled long barrel, quick loading device), as it felt embarrassing not to own the latest trend among hunters.

And the police officers in the Eastern Elven Territory were the last people that all the big shots wanted to confront; while officers in other places were still wielding revolvers, those in the Eastern Elven Territory had already started to use firepower to dominate uninvited troublemakers.

The third shotgun Durin was nearly finished with—this one was requested by the police to address the increasingly severe Transcendent criminal incidents, and the military also spoke highly of it.

Based on the Saiga-12, it had a folding stock, easily interchangeable long and short barrels, simple and reliable stamping parts, from four-times optics to red dot sights. It featured ejector ports and side-mounted Arcane Crystal red dots designed for either left- or right-handed use, forends tailored to users' preferences, and large muzzle brakes to reduce recoil.

Most importantly, this shotgun, which would inevitably be called something like the "Durin Model 13" by the Craftsmen's Guild suffering from naming difficulty, used a 10-shot straight magazine with a see-through center, allowing the user to clearly see the remaining rounds.

Moreover, Durin also produced 14-shot and 20-shot curved magazines, and both 20-shot and 30-shot drum magazines with visible round counters.

The military has been engaged in constant battle with monsters and mutants in the east, and after delivering ten sample guns to the assault team, they received unanimous praise—simplicity and reliability meant easy maintenance, and even jamming could be swiftly addressed. The lethality of the full-power slugs satisfied the soldiers; although it was semi-automatic, it could be fired at high speeds. Even monsters and mutants, which were previously difficult to handle, could be quickly killed under the crossfire of two guns.

For the military units dealing with huge beings over two meters tall—like high-hoofed bovine people and forest giants—calibers No. 4 and No. 2 heavy types especially stood out like powerful brick throwers. Forest giants (three-meter-tall beings) even used caliber No. 1 steel core bullets to hit a hapless mutant from a hundred meters away, obliterating half of its body.

The military requested a hundred thousand guns and spent a significant amount of money to purchase the patent for the gun designs. They also paid Durin an annual salary with the stipulation that Durin must first submit any new rifles he designed for their scrutiny. As a result, Durin rose three ranks in the Craftsmen's Guild and is now the hottest star gunsmith, most importantly, he is only 12 years old.

What does a promising future mean? This is it.

Anta also took notice of this new gun and after examining it for a moment, she said, "What a strange look it has, it really seems to be filled with violence and killing power, just like you said."

Durin smiled and at that moment, he thought of the line spoken by Nicholas Cage's character Yuri Orlov, standing at a crossroads covered in cartridge cases, "You know, Anta, out of every thirteen people in this land, one uses the shotgun I made. My greatest dream is to have the other twelve also buy my guns."

"Haha, if that happens, you'll be the richest Grassland Elf in the land, right?" Anta laughed as she playfully poked Durin's cheek with her hand.

"With money, I can do a lot of things, like take you to play on the beaches of the South, adventure in the far North's snowy plains, and most importantly, make you beautiful movies," Durin said, sharing his true dream.

He vowed to create the movie that had lingered in his memory—Lord of War.

He particularly enjoyed its scathingly satirical take on politics—which reflects that this land does not believe in tears, does not worship the law, and justice is always in the arms of those with swords. The truly kind-hearted hustle and bustle tirelessly for the future of this land, only to leave the world all too soon.

While the petty, the conspirators, the war profiteers, live to an old age, their families blossom, and their descendants enjoy longevity and prosperity.

Such a world is truly regrettable.

"Do you really want to make movies? Will they be better than those made by humans... wow, are you serious, you're not lying to me, right?" Anta asked with a bit of doubt and nervousness.

"Of course, I believe I'll make them countless times better than theirs. You have to believe in me too, okay?" Durin said, smiling as he took down a Glock 23C from the wall, a gift for her, "I remember you have a gun license, right?"

"Mhm." Anta didn't reach out for it: "I remember you said this was the first non-revolver you made, and it has a lot of sentimental value."

"Yes, but today is your birthday, happy birthday, my ally," Durin said, his smile finally causing Anta to happily open her arms—not to embrace the gift, but to hug Durin: "I thought you had been through so much suffering that you might have forgotten for a moment. Look, I've already forgiven you."

"I could never forget your birthday, my dear ally," Durin replied, handing her the gun. She accepted it with a smile, engaged the safety, and then stowed it away in her personal space—a benefit of being a mage, as a mage's personal space could hide many things.

Durin picked out a Glock 33 for himself, compact and reliable, fitting well in his hand. In an era where the strong are wielding revolvers, either misfiring or firing six shots a second before ducking behind cover to reload one round at a time, the future master gunsmith Durin had already outfitted them with more than just end-of-life firepower—though the gun looked small, the standard magazine held ten rounds, plus it could be fitted with a 16-round extended magazine. Durin even had a 24-round super-extended magazine at his disposal.

Furthermore, Durin had equipped the gun with a fully automatic mode. When the arcane power gloves were activated, the recoil felt almost non-existent at the muzzle.

It outclassed all in sustained firepower, and it used dum-dum bullets, perfect for taking down those with high flesh resistance. And there was no need to worry about transformations, such as the Stoneskin Spell or Elementalization—Durin had plenty of Spell Formulas to thin out the tough skin of any Transcendent.

"Do we really need to prepare to this extent?" asked Anta somewhat perplexedly.

"That merchant caravan must be human traffickers in disguise. If they were dispersed by my grandfather, what if someone gets a wild idea to charge our small manor, trying to take hostages?" Durin presented a very realistic possibility to Anta.

Spells require casting time, but nothing is faster than pulling the trigger to send a Transcendent to their death.

After contemplating, Anta nodded emphatically.