Jiang Ning rode at an even pace, neither urging his horse forward nor allowing it to slow. The road back to North Pine stretched long and quiet beneath a sky washed clean by the morning sun. Wind brushed past him, tugging at his cloak, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. Hooves struck the packed dirt in a steady rhythm, unhurried, unbroken.
There was no rush.
Each rise and fall of the terrain passed beneath his mount, hours slipping by with nothing but time to think or not think at all. All he was doing was moving forward as the world passed him by.
That was when the familiar cyan glow appeared at the edge of his vision.
It didn't startle him. By now, the system's presence was as much a part of his life as breathing was. Still, he drew his horse to a slower pace, eyes flicking briefly to the translucent screen hovering before him.
[System Mission Completed!]
Mission: Signature Weapon
Difficulty: Medium
Reward:
• A-Rank Passive Talent Card ×1
Jiang studied the words for a moment longer than necessary. An A-rank. He hadn't expected that, not from simply choosing a weapon to use.
The screen shifted.
[Do you wish to reveal the A-Rank Talent Card?]
[Yes] [No]
There was no reason to delay. No benefit in hesitation.
He selected [Yes].
The glow deepened, then condensed, lines of text resolving with crisp clarity.
[New Talent Acquired]
Ballistic Perception (A)
Effect:
When wielding a firearm, you can perceive the predicted trajectory, ricochet paths, and impact vectors of fired shots.
The words lingered for a breath.
Jiang's gaze unfocused for a moment. A new sensation came next, it wasn't overwhelming, but he could feel a shift, like a new layer settling over his awareness.
He could feel it.
If he fired now, from this angle, the bullet would skip once off the stone marker by the roadside, clip the iron rim of a wagon wheel leaning against a fence, then bury itself in the tree trunk beyond. The knowledge wasn't intrusive. It simply existed, waiting to be acknowledged.
Jiang exhaled softly.
My accuracy will improve greatly with this skill, he thought.
The screen faded, leaving only the road, the wind, and the steady gait of his horse.
By the time the towers of North Pine came into view, the sun had lowed from its noon rise. Life buzzed at the edges of the town, merchants calling, carts creaking, guards rotating shifts atop the walls. When Jiang approached the gates, conversation faltered.
Then recognition sparked.
"Lord Jiang!"
The call carried, and the response was immediate. Gates opened without delay. Guards straightened, saluting as he passed.
He dismounted within the estate grounds, passing the reins to a stablehand before adjusting the reinforced case secured at his side. The weight was familiar already, pressing against his leg with a presence that demanded acknowledgment.
As he crossed into the inner estate, a voice rose from near the training yard.
"…hold on. Is that—?"
Jiang turned slightly.
An older knight stood near the weapon racks, graying hair pulled back neatly, his weathered face etched with lines earned through decades of service. Sir Caldor, captain of the estate guard. Ren Ning's contemporary. A man who had seen more wars than most would ever hear about.
Sir Caldor's eyes were fixed on the case.
"Lord Jiang," he said slowly, stepping closer. "May I see that?"
Jiang inclined his head. "Of course, Sir Caldor."
He unlatched the case and lifted the weapon just enough for its form to be seen. Gold-trimmed metal caught the light, the lines of the firearm elegant and unmistakably deliberate.
Sir Caldor sucked in a breath.
"Well I'll be damned," he muttered, then laughed sharply. "Did you get this weapon from the Oliver estate?"
"I did, how could you tell?" Jiang asked.
Caldor shook his head, eyes bright with something between disbelief and excitement. "House Ning earns its name through style," he said. "Your ancestors carved a path with the blade, passing down sacred techniques from head to head, refined over generations."
A few nearby knights drifted closer, drawn in by his tone.
"But House Olliver?" Caldor continued. "They're different."
He gestured vaguely northward. "From the western marches of Valecrest to the iron valleys of Karsin, the Ollivers were never known for their techniques but rather earned their fame for the weapons they produced."
"Guns," one knight said, grinning.
"Named guns," Caldor corrected. "Each generation creates one or two at most. Weapons forged to such specificity that only a single hand could ever truly wield them at its full potential."
His gaze returned to the weapon in Jiang's hands.
"The one you're holding," he said quietly, "is one of those named guns."
Jiang's fingers tightened slightly around the grip. "Really???"
Caldor's smile widened. "The Golden Eagle," he said, savoring the name. "A true Named Legendary Firearm. Lower-ranked among the Olliver collection, sure but still one of the few in the world that earned a name and its been around for a long time."
A murmur rippled through the gathered knights.
"You're kidding," one said. "A named weapon?"
"Only one I've ever seen," another added, half-laughing. "Aside from Lord Ren's."
"That one's been passed down since the founding," a third said. "Family treasure."
Jealousy crept into their voices, unhidden and good-natured.
"Anthony must've gone soft in his old age," someone joked. "Giving that away?"
Jiang listened, expression calm, but inside, something stirred.
A named weapon…
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the battlefields of his past life. Smoke, blood, thunder. He had faced legendary men, monstrous weapons, but never this.
If it's truly legendary…
Why didn't I ever face it before?
No answer came. Only a faint unease.
He set the thought aside.
"I need to see my father," Jiang said after a moment, re-securing the weapon in its case. "I'll speak with you all later."
Sir Caldor chuckled. "Don't forget us when you're done, my lord. I'd like to see how that thing moves."
"Same here," another knight added. "A spar, at least."
Jiang smiled faintly. "We'll see."
He turned and walked down the corridor leading deeper into the estate, footsteps echoing softly against stone. The noise behind him faded, replaced by the familiar hush of the inner halls.
At the end of the passage stood a heavy wooden door.
Ren Ning's study.
Jiang stopped, lifted his hand, and knocked.
A pause.
Then, from within.
"Come in."