The next day, the testing field was covered in a white blanket of snow. Flakes gently fell from the cloudy sky, covering the ground and the surrounding trees, as a cold wind swept across the terrain. John was there, surrounded by dozens of soldiers, blacksmiths, and carpenters. Among them, Arthur, his son Benjamin, and Marcus, the carpenter, were preparing for the first big test of the day.

  Benjamin's weapon, the pistol he had built based on Miguel’s sketches, would be the first to be tested. A wooden target, usually used for archery practice, was positioned 150 meters away, on a snow-covered tree. The wood was worn from previous use with arrows but was still firm enough for the test they were about to conduct.

  Benjamin, somewhat nervous, explained to the designated archer how the pistol worked. He demonstrated how to hold it properly, load the cartridges, aim, and reload after each shot. The archer, a calm and experienced man, listened attentively before taking the weapon. Everyone present watched in silence, their breath creating clouds of vapor in the cold air.

  The archer positioned himself, feeling the weight of the gun in his hands, something entirely different from the bow and arrow he was accustomed to. With a slight movement, he pulled the trigger. A loud bang echoed across the field, breaking the icy silence. Everyone flinched, impressed by the sound the pistol made. The recoil pushed the archer slightly back, but he managed to hold his stance. The shot had been fired, and the sound of impact against the wood was audible shortly after.

  John, Arthur, Marcus, and the others watched as a soldier mounted his horse and quickly rode to the target. After a brief inspection, he waved to the group. "Hit! There's a hole in the tree!" the soldier shouted back. Everyone at the testing field let out exclamations of surprise and admiration.

  The archer fired five more times, following Benjamin's instructions on how to reload the weapon. Each shot was accompanied by the same loud bang, and each time the soldier rode to the target to check. All the shots hit the target, some with impressive accuracy, considering the distance and the intense cold affecting the environment.

  “The weapon is incredible,” commented one of the soldiers, still surprised by the power that small piece of metal possessed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  John, equally impressed, approached Benjamin and asked, "And how long until we can mass-produce these weapons?"

  Benjamin, still with trembling hands from excitement, explained, "We’ll need to set up a production line, something similar to what we did with the brick factory. Every piece of this weapon needs to be precise, and the manufacturing process is complex. With an organized production line, we can make many, but it’s going to take some time to get ready."

  John nodded, understanding the complexity involved. "Then we need to start organizing for that as soon as possible."

  As everyone murmured in approval, the group began to prepare for the second big test of the day: the cannon. Arthur, Marcus, and the blacksmiths adjusted the cannon on its mount, securing it to the wooden cart with thick, sturdy wheels. The snow covering the field increased the challenge, but everyone was eager to see what Miguel had designed this time.

  The atmosphere grew more tense, the vapor from the men’s breath rising like smoke as they made the final adjustments. The cold intensified, but the excitement kept everyone warm.

  “Let’s see what this beast can do,” Arthur said, preparing the cannon with seriousness.

  Everyone focused once again, ready for what was coming next.

  The surrounding environment was covered in thick snow, with the cloudy sky and cold wind cutting across the testing field. The nearby trees were drenched in snow, their branches heavy and bent under the weight of the harsh winter. The wooden cart, where the cannon was positioned, had robust oak wheels, wide enough to move steadily over the snow-covered terrain. The cannon itself was an imposing weapon, about 2 meters long, its dark metal body gleaming in the dim daylight.

  Arthur, with a serious and focused expression, carefully handled the gunpowder, filling the cannon’s barrel with a pre-prepared bag. He then inserted the heavy steel ball into the barrel with the help of other blacksmiths. The team worked in sync, knowing that this moment was crucial for testing one of the most powerful weapons Miguel had designed.

  “Attention, stand back,” Arthur said, holding the torch in his hand. He stepped away from the cannon, while the others watched from a safe distance. With a swift movement, he lit the fuse.

  The silence before the shot was filled only by the wind lightly whistling around. Then, a deafening boom shattered the tranquility, echoing across the fields and reverberating off the distant mountains. The impact of the explosion was palpable; the air seemed to vibrate with the power of the shot. Everyone watched as the steel ball flew through the air, hitting the trees 500 meters away. The projectile knocked down four trees at once, their thick trunks falling with their own thundering crashes, crushed by the devastating force of the cannonball.

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  John, wide-eyed, watched the impact. “This is simply… incredible!” he exclaimed, still stunned by the sound and power he had just witnessed.

  Arthur, with a slight smile, wiped the sweat from his forehead despite the cold. "I followed all of Miguel’s notes to the letter," he said proudly. "The manufacturing process, the loading, even the adjustments to the cart were exactly as he designed."

  The other blacksmiths, who had also helped create the cannon, exchanged looks of satisfaction. It was clear that everyone was impressed and, at the same time, proud of their work. The sound of the impact still rang in their ears, as snow began to fall again, covering the debris of the fallen trees.

  John approached the cannon, inspecting it more closely, touching the large wooden wheels. "This will change how we defend Drakmoor," he said, still amazed by the weapon’s effectiveness. “Miguel really created something extraordinary.”

  Arthur, always modest, just nodded. “Now we just need to test it in real combat... and I hope, when that happens, we’ll be ready.”

  Everyone silently agreed as they watched the cannon, knowing this was just the beginning of something much bigger.

  ***

  The cold wind blew intensely at the camp near the village, kicking up small gusts of snow that accumulated on the tents and along the paths already marked by soldiers. The dense vegetation around, covered by a layer of snow, made the scene seem even more isolated and somber. Miguel sat next to the mage, both watching the final preparations for the visit to the village. The situation was delicate, and Miguel knew that any mistake could be fatal.

  The mage, wrapped in a black cloak that almost blended with the surroundings, held an ancient necklace in his hands. The object glowed faintly, with an ethereal and mysterious energy. He explained to Miguel while watching him closely. “This artifact is rare, very rare. It’s one of the few remaining that can deceive Mana disease. The reason for this is that it holds a condensed amount of mana inside it, enough to make the virus believe that whoever wears it has mana... when in fact, you don’t.”

  Miguel looked at the necklace, intrigued. “So, it basically camouflages me?”

  The mage nodded slowly, handing the necklace to Miguel. “Exactly. By wearing it, you’ll be protected while in the contaminated area. But remember, this is a temporary fix. It doesn’t cure the disease, it just prevents it from attacking you directly. The Mana virus is drawn to those without mana, like yourself. With this necklace, the disease won’t sense your lack of mana.”

  Miguel ran his fingers over the necklace before putting it around his neck. He felt a slight warmth radiating from the piece as soon as it touched his skin. "How long can this last?" Miguel asked, adjusting the necklace under his heavy winter clothes.

  “It’s hard to say,” replied the mage, pulling his hood tighter against the cold wind. “The necklace holds enough mana for a few hours, maybe an entire day, depending on how long you remain exposed. After that, it will need to be recharged, and that takes time, something we unfortunately don’t have in abundance.”

  Miguel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation. The wind blew stronger, making the sound of creaking trees echo around them. The thick clouds in the sky obscured any trace of sunlight, making the day gloomy and unsettling. The sound of boots crunching through the snow seemed to be the only noise cutting through the otherwise reverent silence of the icy environment.

  The mage looked toward the village gates in the distance, covered by a thin layer of ice. “The village is under quarantine, so for all intents and purposes, no one will try to leave or enter without our permission. Once inside, we must remain vigilant for signs of the disease. You’ll see the purple blisters on the bodies of the infected. And Majesty, you can’t touch anything, even with the necklace. The disease can transfer through objects. Every precaution is necessary.”

  Miguel nodded, feeling the gravity of the mage’s words. The snow continued to fall softly around them, covering everything with a white blanket that paradoxically seemed to heighten the hidden danger in the village. He gave one last look at the soldiers in the camp, all waiting anxiously, before turning toward the village with the mage at his side.

  “Let’s go,” Miguel said, tightening the necklace around his neck. “We need to find a solution for this.”

  They began walking toward the village, their footprints quickly erased by the falling snow, while the sound of the wind echoed around them, as if the world itself was watching every step they took.