The workshop roared with tension when Evan returned carrying the foreign compact weapon. Craftsmen rushed toward him, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Rhel held up a hand to silence the room.

Evan placed the weapon on the main bench. The metal had a dark gray sheen and elegant curves along the barrel. Unlike Ironhold’s weapons, this one used layered channels—overlapping, spiraling, and bending mana lines around the core.

Taron pointed at the device, speechless.

Evan finally broke the silence. “Everyone look. This is what the enemy is building.”

Whispers spread like wildfire.

“Impossible…”
“How did they forge that curve…”
“The core shape is strange…”
“They are copying us…”

Evan tapped the weapon firmly. “They are not copying. They are innovating. Their craftsmen found a new method—spiral compression. Dangerous but clever.”

Taron swallowed hard. “Master Marshall… can we beat this design”

Evan smirked faintly. “We do not beat it. We get better. Much better.”

He lifted the foreign weapon to eye level and started analyzing its flaws. “They used curved channels to redirect mana. Smart idea. Terrible execution. The mana twists too violently here. This stress will crack under high heat. And the core chamber is too close to the outer frame. One misfire and this thing explodes.”

Several craftsmen stepped back fearfully.

Rhel stepped forward. “Meaning their craftsmen are experimenting recklessly.”

“Exactly,” Evan said. “They are smart, but not smart enough to stabilize these curves.”

He set the weapon down and drew a quick sketch on the chalk wall—straight channels leading into curved paths, merging into a stable ring.

“The idea is sound,” Evan admitted. “If we refine it, straighten the load path, and tighten the flow, we could make something even more powerful than our repeater.”

The workshop buzzed with excitement.

Taron whispered, “A spiral repeater…”

Evan nodded. “Yes. Smaller. Faster. Stronger. The next generation.”

Rhel crossed his arms. “Then build it. Before they do.”

Evan set to work immediately. He dismantled the foreign weapon with steady hands, piece by piece, analyzing every flawed line. Craftsmen gathered around him forming a silent ring of anticipation.

“This piece is too thin,” he said.
“This crystal cut is unstable.”
“This spiral channel collapses under pressure.”
“This seam is welded poorly.”

Then he placed a blank metal slab on the bench. “We make our own version. Clean lines. Stable mana compression. No shortcuts.”

The workshop exploded into motion.
Metalworkers heated new alloy plates.
Crystal shapers polished lenses with a steady rhythm.
Taron prepared fresh mana paste mixed with powdered beast shell for extra stability.

Evan shaped the first spiraled channel by hand. He cut the groove slowly, curving it with a steady motion like carving the hull of a miniature ship. The craftsmen watched in awe as the line wrapped around itself without breaking.

“This,” Evan said, “is how you make a curved channel that does not kill the user.”

By midday he had the full frame laid out. A beautiful design—part straight, part spiraled, merging old precision with new innovation.

Taron stared at it with admiration. “It looks like a coil wrapped in logic.”

Evan smiled. “Good. Because that is what it is.”

He assembled the prototype. It hummed with smooth mana—no wobble, no uncontrolled pulse.

Rhel stepped forward. “Test it.”

They went outside. Soldiers lined the courtyard.

Evan aimed at a reinforced dummy and fired.
The beam spiraled outward in a tight corkscrew pattern before snapping into a straight piercing shot.

The blast punched deep, far deeper than the repeater.

The soldiers shouted in astonishment.

Rhel stared. “You built something stronger than the enemy weapon on your first try.”

Evan rotated the chamber and fired again.
The beam struck a stone block and drilled through it like a heated needle.

Even the mages watching from the tower flinched.

Taron whispered, “Master… this is beyond anything…”

Evan lowered the weapon. “This is only the beginning. We refine it. We mass produce it. And we stay ahead.”

Rhel clasped his arm. “With this, Ironhold has a future.”

Evan looked at the spiraled weapon, feeling the weight of the next step.
The rival kingdom had awakened.
The Arcane Coil Guild had risen.
But Ironhold had him—
and he was not done building.

The arms race had officially begun.

And Evan Marshall was not planning to lose.