Chapter 58
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: The Power of the New Apostle
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Clank!
The cold, precise friction of metal pieces meshing flawlessly echoed through the heavy air of the forge's basement.
"Look at this!"
Mani trembled with a mix of awe and excitement.
"If you pull this back like this..."
Mani hoisted up a rifle as tall as we were, then twisted the breech handle at the rear of the barrel.
She shoved a paper cartridge straight in after that.
"See? The loading speed compared to those muskets where you ram powder and shot down the muzzle? It's not even close!"
What lay before our eyes was loot seized from the Black Stone Mine guards we'd swept away.
The latest Adlerheim Empire needle rifles were impressively precise, even to my eyes informed by memories of another life.
"Hmph, as if you needed to say it. Our Adlerheim Empire's magitech is the best in the world!"
Hilde, standing nearby with arms arrogantly crossed, strutted about for some reason.
"It's a revolutionary design—gunpowder wrapped in paper casings, ignited by a sharp pin piercing through. Something you shorties could never replicate with your crude hammer work. This is the pinnacle of precision engineering!"
"Tch. For a half-elf!"
Mani smacked her lips in regret and set the rifle down on the cold workbench.
"I hate to admit it, but replicating this with our village forge's current setup? Impossible. We'd need incredibly precise metal lathes."
In short, with our crude tools, it wasn't even worth dreaming about.
'Reality is reality. We can't mass-produce guns overnight.'
I silently gazed at the pile of imperial needle rifles Mani had set down, and beside them, the wooden crates stacked high with large quantities of black mining explosives.
The acrid smell of gunpowder and the fishy tang of metallic oil stung my nose.
"Stash these away in the deepest, driest spot of the forge basement warehouse for now."
I pulled a thick waterproof tarp over the crates, covering them completely, and lowered my voice coolly.
"If the military police with their sharp noses catch wind of illegal firearms, or if that nitpicky Inspector Coldwell hears about it, we'll have a real headache. But..."
I glanced sidelong at the heavy iron door of the sealed warehouse.
"If the Foundation bastards cross the line for real, if the worst happens..."
My gaze coldly swept over the steel fangs hidden beneath the tarp.
"Then we'll pull these latest weapons out without hesitation."
We sealed away these bloodstained spoils for the time being.
As we emerged from the basement warehouse, the rich aroma of simmering stew warmly filled the village air.
The homeless beastkin who had lost their homes or had nowhere to return to clung desperately to my pant legs like a lifeline.
"Squeak! I'll work the fields or the hamster wheels to death, so please just let me stay here!"
"I'm hungry, Village Chief!"
On the other hand, some beastkin still had homes and families waiting in distant hometowns.
They wanted to leave as soon as possible but exchanged anxious glances, terrified of the brutal world outside.
I hopped up onto an empty wooden crate in the middle of the clearing.
"I'll send back those who want to return home right away—eventually!"
A few beastkin brightened at my calm words.
But I immediately raised my hand to temper their hasty hopes.
"But listen up! Right now, outside, hunters are foaming at the mouth, baring their teeth for you. The moment you leave defenseless, a heavy iron collar snaps right back on!"
A heavy silence fell like a bucket of cold water.
"So stay quietly in our village until this mess is completely over. We'll feed you. Once it's truly safe outside, our combat squad will escort you home safe and sound, without a scratch!"
Maybe because they'd bone-deep experienced the horrors of abduction.
Not a single fool insisted on packing up alone and leaving.
Thanks to my promise of warm shelter and guaranteed safety, there was no major unrest for now.
Sighs of relief and sniffles erupted here and there.
'Time to collect fair payment for the meals.'
I pulled forward a basket containing small carved wooden hamster wheel models and thumb-sized Rodentia statuettes.
"What's this, Village Chief?"
"Sacred relics of the great Goddess Rodentia!"
"Goddess Rodentia...?"
"First time hearing that..."
A familiar reaction.
"Enshrine this in your room and pray by running the hamster wheel morning and night! The Goddess will safely guide you through your perilous path!"
I instructed the rescued beastkin to pray, pointing at the statuettes and wheels. Their bony hands clutched the figures like precious lifelines.
'I can harvest a nice haul of devoted followers.'
Pragmatic? Fine by me.
That's how this village and my kin survive.
Of course, blind faith alone isn't enough.
The root of the problem, those Ratstein Foundation bastards, wield private soldiers and back-alley gangs like limbs with their massive capital.
A razor-edge situation where they could bare their fangs and rip out our throats any moment.
I pulled a blood-red beret from my pocket and tugged it firmly over my head. Turning my gaze to the dusty training ground, a new sight unfolded.
"Look at that sluggish movement! You think you can protect this village with that rotten old gear?"
A brutal, sharp bellow echoed through the acrid dust of the training ground.
The voice belonged to Temi, the devil drill instructor putting the second batch of Rat Rangers through hell.
The fierce back-alley pickpocket girl who once tried to steal my wallet and got her hand bitten was now sporting a crisply tilted dark green beret, drilling the fear of god into her juniors.
"Posture straight! Drop and give me hamster wheel push-ups! Squeak!"
"Ack! Ranger candidate, Cherry!"
Screams of enraged trainees. A hellish landscape tangled in dust!
I watched the brutal training ground with satisfaction, then quietly slipped into the cool shade of the trees behind.
'I need to build my strength first.'
The thick breastplate from Black Stone Mine and the acrid gunpowder smell of the rifled guns still lingered in my nose.
Against the Ratstein Foundation's elite forces, shallow tricks or command alone won't keep us alive.
'The commander—me—needs real power.'
That's why, for the past few days, whenever I had time, I'd been visiting Hilde and Sena in turns.
Mana and holy power—realms unknown to me.
To etch those two powers into my own body, I'd started private lessons.
"Focus. Mana is a cold, rational flow. Imagine intricate gears meshing in your mind."
Mornings, Hilde drilled mana basics into my head with her usual picky tone.
"No, Lotty. Holy power is like a warm campfire rising from deep in your heart. Kindle the spark with fervent faith."
Afternoons, Sena taught me the feel of holy power in her gentle voice.
Cold mana calculated by the head, warm holy power believed in the heart.
'Body enhancement over magic for now.'
Still, Hilde was the only one who could use mana right away.
But both remained alien sensations.
How to fully absorb them as my own?
The one method both recommended unanimously: meditation.
Blocking out external senses, focusing inward.
I settled into position, crossing my legs.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly closed my eyes.
Vision went black, breaths shallowed, and my floating body sank into deep water.
How much time passed?
'...Squeak squeak! Food!'
Suddenly, unidentified noise intruded my mind.
I thought it tinnitus.
The sharp whine stabbing my temples sharpened into clear sentences, hammering directly into my brain.
'Squeak! Sleepy!'
"Ugh...!"
A skull-splitting headache hit with ragged breaths.
I clutched my head with both hands and snapped my eyes open.
'No way?'
Scanning around, I pinpointed the voice's source.
'Field mice?'
The next day, I confessed this bizarre phenomenon straight to Rodentia.
[Oho! Well done, my poor apostle!]
[Your ingenuity has swelled the village with followers, and the devout prayers offered morning and night have piled up high! Your soul's vessel has grown! Now you can not only understand rat language but peek through their tiny eyes! Go on, practice!]
Rodentia laughed delightedly at my tale.
'My soul's vessel grew?'
I swallowed dryly and decided to test this new ability right away.
Closing my eyes and focusing, the presences of busy field and gutter mice darting between crop rows dotted my mind like a radar net.
'Right side.'
My will extended like an invisible thread. A plump field mouse digging turned its head sharply.
Patter patter!
The mouse toddled off in the direction I indicated, entranced.
Goosebumps rose on my arms.
But the real marvel was something else.
Communication with the spirit horned rats.
Before, summoning them for scouting only yielded vague sensory waves like danger or safe.
Now, it was entirely different.
Eyes squeezed shut, I tuned deep into one horned rat's consciousness.
Flash!
Instantly, my vision flipped to an extreme low-angle, flat on the ground.
A murky black-and-white view, but outlines sharp.
'I can see through the horned rat's eyes!'
The world seen through the horned rat's gaze was immense.
Hilde sipping herbal tea far off looked gigantic like a titan.
Wind-rustled grass blades thundered vividly against eardrums.
I could sync with the horned rat's sight and hearing.
'Whoa, insane.'
I snapped my eyes open, inwardly exclaiming.
'This... it's a living micro-camera!'
At this point, Apostle of the Hamster Wheel feels understated.
A few days later, to stock up on scarce food and winter supplies, our party hit the bustling streets of the capital Dunholm with a pony cart.
The streets swarmed chaotically with blaring carriage horns and merchants' shouts.
Pretending to haggle over flour sacks and dried beans at a market stall, I discreetly released spirit horned rats into the dense shadows at my feet.
'Go, horned rats!'
The horned rats nimbly scattered through sewers and eaves, dodging trampling feet.
'Practice first.'
I activated the apostle's vision-sharing ability.
A tingle, and info flooded my brain in real-time: horned rats vaulting fences, slipping through holes.
'Good. Smoother than expected.'
I smoothly severed the connection.
Grabbing bags of freshly baked baguettes and groceries in both heavy hands, I strolled leisurely through the crowded city center.
Right then.
"Oh my! Who do we have here? Lotty?"
A strangely familiar, chilling voice from the heart of the bustle.
Yet a delighted high tone pierced my round ears.
"I saw your back and thought no way... but it really is our Lotty! Heavens, we meet again!"
Turning, amid the drab, hectic capital crowd stood an elf beauty in a blindingly white uniform, utterly out of place.
One eye revealed through cascading silver hair.
Camilla, necromancer of the Pantheon Temple's Inquisition.
Behind Camilla rattled a skeleton soldier in its old porcelain mask.
'Meeting her here of all places.'
This unexpected chance might prove useful.