“Wait, what did you say your name was…?”
Every person on deck, including those mercenaries whose fingers were currently gushing blood, turned their gazes toward the blonde Elf.
“Iyue Naierfu…? I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere…”
“I remember now! That’s the name of the one from the Brave’s Party who could shoot arrows further than cannonballs — “
“The scout of the Brave’s Party, the most outstanding archer in the Empire, the ‘Bow of the Wind Forest,’ and the ‘Jade Reaper’ — Iyue Naierfu.”
The Elf woman standing before them possessed countless legendary titles and identities… but Ozel only recited a few of the most representative ones for the confused crew and mercenaries.
Then, he stared at her blankly and asked, “Is it… really you?”
“What’s with that? You sounded like you were reading off a menu, Boss,” Iyue said with a smile.
“I should correct you first. Modern artillery has a much longer range than it used to. I can’t shoot an arrow further than a cannonball anymore.”
“Don’t… don’t panic! Grab your weapons! Even if this woman really is that archer from the Brave’s Party, she doesn’t have a bow or arrows right now! We have so many people and so many guns, the advantage is ours — “
To steady his panicked comrades, a mercenary shouted.
He tore a piece of his clothing to wrap his severed finger and tried to take the lead by picking up a firearm dropped on the deck.
“Are you an idiot?”
As Iyue sighed in exasperation, a short gunshot rang out once more… the remaining four fingers on the mercenary’s right hand vanished.
His face turned pale, and he knelt on the ground, clutching his bleeding, bare palm and howling.
Ozel saw Iyue’s hand return to the holster as white smoke with the scent of gunpowder drifted slowly around her.
He noticed many yellow cylinders, scorched black, rolling on the deck at her feet.
‘Are those… fragments of percussion caps? No, they shouldn’t be that shape, nor should there be that many.’
The firearms improved during the Industrial Revolution in Northern Elancia had become some of the most important inventions in the Empire in recent years.
Because these weapons had the potential to become excellent commodities, Ozel knew a fair amount about them.
He knew every step of using such a gun, from loading to firing — the shooter first had to bite open a paper cartridge containing gunpowder and pour it into the chamber.
Then, they had to insert a lead ball and use a ramrod to pack it down bit by bit.
Finally, they had to place a small copper percussion cap on the nipple.
When the trigger was pulled, the hammer fell, the cap exploded, the flame entered the chamber, and the bullet was discharged.
The entire process had to be completed slowly and cautiously… like the long-winded prayers of those priests in Serandor.
Ozel’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
He had counted eight cylinders on the ground, their edges neat and marked by the kiss of fire.
There were six mercenaries on the deck who had intended to open fire on them.
The index fingers of the six mercenaries standing in different positions had all been shot off… and the poor wretch who had still tried to pick up a weapon after losing a finger had lost all his remaining fingers after a single shot.
She had definitely fired.
These copper shells were likely the containers for the ammunition, and their number likely represented how many times she had fired…
She had fired eight shots, severing ten fingers across six men — yet he clearly only heard two gunshots.
What had happened exceeded Ozel’s understanding of firearms.
Even the most skilled marksman he knew would have to restart that lengthy reloading process once the smoke cleared… and no matter how fast one reloaded, that kind of firearm couldn’t possibly achieve rapid fire.
“Kids, times have changed,” Iyue said, glaring coldly at the six mercenaries.
“To think you’d look down on me just because I don’t have a bow… don’t you know this thing is more useful than a bow?”
She finally drew the gun slowly from her leather holster — a silver revolver.
Its lines were compact and restrained, and its cylinder was structured like a meticulously carved gear.
It was like a piece of precision mechanical jewelry. Compared to it, the things the crew and mercenaries held looked like crudely made toys.
Iyue tilted her wrist slightly and pressed the release button on the side of the frame with her thumb.
With a soft, crisp mechanical click, the cylinder swung outward. Then, she gave her wrist a casual flick —
Ding, dang.
Two copper shells, blackened by fire, slid out of the chambers and rolled across the deck, mixing with the previously dropped casings.
“If you want to follow this early bird’s example, the next thing I hit might not be the paws you use to hold your guns. Surrender immediately or put up a fight — choose.”
The sound of the rolling casings and Iyue’s nonchalant warning struck terror into the mercenaries’ hearts.
They watched the gun flip and dance between Iyue’s fingers like a silver butterfly.
“We surrender!”
The remaining five men knelt in unison, slamming their heads against the deck.
Just as their foreheads hit the floor, the mercenaries guarding the stern rushed over from the side.
“Why were there only two shots? Did you handle it… Wait, what are you doing?!”
“Ah.”
Those mercenaries were clearly accomplices of the river pirates as well.
Seeing their companions kneeling on the deck with blood gushing from their hands, they aimed their guns at Iyue in shock and rage —
Short gunshots erupted almost simultaneously. Not once, but several times — so fast that before the muzzle flash could fade, the next discharge chased the echo of the previous one.
The continuous roar of metal was compressed into a single, sharp, and violent resonance… It mingled with Iyue’s pained sigh.
“I really can’t stand this… these bullets are very expensive.”
…
The cargo ship docked at a fuel station by the river. This station was located near a border town in Serandor.
Steamships had to refuel at similar stations at intervals during their journey.
While Ozel supervised his men in refueling, he asked the workers and guards stationed there to take the surrendered river pirates to the nearby town’s Public Security Bureau and purchased supplies.
After effortlessly dealing with the mercenaries on his ship who had colluded with the bandits, Iyue had leaped onto the two pirate ships blocking the path.
The only sounds that had followed were the terrified screams of the pirates and the short, rhythmic cracks of the gun in her hand… and after the gunshots ceased, all the noise returned to silence.
“Everything’s settled. I killed the ones who put up a fight; the rest are kneeling on the deck. Just go over and tie them up.”
Recalling Iyue’s heroic appearance when she returned to him and the crew, Ozel was deeply moved. He searched for her figure among the crowd —
Blech!
Then he saw the Elf woman leaning against a tree, vomiting uncontrollably.
A group of nervous crew members surrounded her.
“Get some champagne! You have to drink champagne for these symptoms!”
“Um, Lady Naierfu, I brought you some ginger mint tea…”
Among them was the crewman who had previously been full of impatience toward her.
This time, he was serving at Iyue’s side with a cup of tea, looking terrified and respectful.
“No… no… I can’t drink anything right now… hurl…!”
Iyue bent over dramatically, a brilliant rainbow pouring from her mouth.