Chapter 49 Magic for Everyone

"Boom!!!"

A dazzling flash of fire burst from the tip of the strange shell, instantly illuminating the entire courtyard.

The powerful force swept outward, sending sand and dust trickling down from the sandbag wall.

Everyone instinctively shrank their heads.

After a brief roar, the courtyard fell into a dead silence, broken only by the idling engine of Ludwig's armored knight. A pungent smell permeated the air.

A few seconds later, people cautiously poked their heads out from behind the cover.

Through the smoke, they saw the massive white armor plate still standing there, completely undamaged.

Failed?

This thought flashed through the minds of the vast majority of people at the same time.

"I knew it..." an artillery officer shook his head in disappointment. "Pure fantasy..."

Even Andre from the International Brigades, the chemistry professor, and the workers wore expressions of regret.

Only Morin's face carried no disappointment; instead, a confident smile played on his lips.

Because the familiar prompt tone sounded in his ear.

[The 'Technology' category has been unlocked. Please check it promptly.]

When Morin opened the golden finger interface according to the prompt, he found that an option on the left tab that had previously displayed a question mark had now changed to 'Technology'.

However, upon opening it, there was currently only one major classification: [Military Industry Technology], and under this classification, there was only one item: 'Shaped Charge High-Explosive Anti-Tank Shell'.

Below it was a line of small text: Upgradable

...

"Lieutenant Colonel, why don't you go over and take a closer look."

Morin's voice finally broke the silence.

Inside the cockpit, Ludwig had also thought it was a failure.

He was just about to throw away this useless piece of iron in his hand when, hearing Morin's words, he felt a shred of doubt but still engaged the cockpit release and jumped down.

However, as the smoke gradually cleared and allowed him to see the full view of the armor plate, he froze completely.

Right in the center of the seemingly intact armor plate, a small, inconspicuous hole had appeared.

The hole was only about the size of an imperial copper pfennig, with impossibly smooth edges. The surrounding metal exhibited a state of having been melted by high heat and then resolidified, still glowing with a faint red tint.

This... this is...

Ludwig felt his mind go blank.

His body slowly squatted down, and with a gloved finger, he gently touched the edge of the hole.

A scorching heat clearly transmitted through the glove to his fingertips.

Morin: "Lieutenant Colonel, watch out! It's hot!"

Ludwig no longer had the capacity to heed Morin's words, because he saw the other side of the hole.

A beam of light shone straight through that tiny opening.

"Damn it, it really penetrated..."

Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig, who had always behaved with elegance and was regarded by many as the benchmark of nobility, could not help but drop an oath at this moment.

The main armor plate of the Garter Knights' primary armored knight had been cleanly and neatly pierced from the front by a bizarre, hand-crafted contraption?!

How could this be possible?!

Ludwig snapped his head around, staring fixedly at Morin not far away with the expression of someone looking at a monster.

His lips trembled. He wanted to say something, but he found that his throat seemed blocked by something, unable to utter a single word.

Everyone present had also clearly seen the 'wound' on the armor plate by now.

Shock, ecstasy, disbelief...

Various complex emotions surfaced on everyone's faces.

Immediately afterward, they erupted into deafening cheers!

"It worked! We did it!"

"Good heavens! It actually pierced through!"

The few workers and veteran artillerymen hugged each other in excitement, laughing and crying at the same time.

The chemistry teacher from Celsia adjusted his glasses and muttered, "Incredible... Truly, learning knows no bounds, learning knows no bounds..."

Amidst the noise and euphoria, Ludwig finally found his voice.

He strode up to Morin, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him hard.

"I swear by the name of the Emperor... Morin! What kind of magic is this?! Are you an undercover archmage in disguise?!"

As an aristocrat of noble birth who had received the most orthodox chivalric education, Ludwig's world was constructed upon clear rules.

On one side was mortal steel and courage, and on the other was the mysterious magic controlled by mages, which required talent and heritage.

Between the two lay an impassable chasm.

Yet today, Morin and his hastily assembled ragtag group had used a pile of scrap metal to forge a weapon capable of threatening the ultimate magitech creation.

This completely shattered his cognition.

Morin did not answer the question. His gaze drifted past Ludwig's shoulders, looking at the cheering ordinary people from different nations and walks of life—the Saxon artillerymen, the workers of the International Brigade, the Celsian intellectuals.

Their faces radiated the same pure joy and hope.

They came from different places, held different identities, and harbored different beliefs.

Yet at this moment, they were undivided, their faces glowing with the exact same emotion—hope.

Morin suddenly smiled.

It was a smile from the heart, incomparably relaxed.

Meeting Ludwig's bright eyes, he slowly shook his head.

"No, Your Excellency Lieutenant Colonel."

"This is not magic."

Morin's voice was not loud, but it clearly cut through all the commotion of the scene.

He broke free from Ludwig's grip, turned around, and pointed at the diverse group of people currently marveling at the armor plate.

"This is not magic," Morin repeated.

"This is his knowledge," he pointed to the bespectacled chemistry teaching assistant.

"This is his technique," he pointed to the calloused-handed workers.

"This is their rigor and experience," he pointed once more to the relieved veteran artillerymen.

Finally, his gaze returned to Ludwig's face, carrying an unprecedented, brilliant smile.

"And you, Your Excellency Lieutenant Colonel... it is your courage to take risks."

"This is science, Lieutenant Colonel... a power that does not rely on mysterious bloodlines, nor requires the grace of gods, but a power that any ordinary person can master, so long as they are willing to learn and practice."

He paused, allowing everyone present a moment to digest the subversive implications of his words.

He looked at those people—the ragged workers, the oil-stained soldiers, the bookish intellectuals—and on their faces, a light called 'epiphany' was emerging.

"Though in a sense, I suppose it is indeed a kind of magic... a magic that belongs to every single one of us!"

These words were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up monstrous waves in everyone's hearts.

Ludwig slowly released his grip. The way he looked at Morin had completely changed.

From initial curiosity, to later appreciation, and then to the shock of moments ago...

It finally settled into a complex emotion mixed with admiration, and even a trace of imperceptible fear.

He fully understood the meaning behind Morin's words.

This thing was not merely a weapon.

It would change warfare, and change everything in this world.

"Hahahaha! Well said!"

A hearty and booming laugh broke the solemn moment.

Andre of the International Brigade strode over, his fan-like palm slamming heavily onto Morin's back, making him stagger.

"A 'magic that belongs to everyone'! Wonderfully said, Comrade Morin! I love that phrase!"

His laughter ignited the atmosphere of the scene.

The oppressive silence was completely shattered, replaced by mountain-shaking cheers and shouts!

The soldiers and workers lifted Morin high into the air, tossing him up.

The despair was swept away, and the flame of hope reignited in everyone's eyes, burning hotter than ever before.

"Quick! Mass produce! How many more shells do we have? Dismantle them all for me!"

"Molds! Make a few more molds! Everyone get moving!"

This makeshift workshop transformed once again into a furiously operating 'factory', and a crude yet efficient assembly line was rapidly organized.

With the experience of success, their speed grew faster and faster.

However, the time left to them by the Kingdom's army and the Britons was not much.

Just as everyone was passionately throwing themselves into production, warning whistles sounded from all across the city.

And this signaled that the enemy had made a new move.