The chalkboard filled quickly as Evan sketched the first concept for the mana cannon. He drew long parallel channels extending like ribs from a central core. He mapped the flow of energy from input to amplification. He marked heat sinks vents stabilizers safety locks and pressure gates.

The craftsmen watched the shapes with wide eyes. For them lances and repeaters were already ground breaking. But this… this was something from another world.

Taron took a breath. “Master Marshall, this is bigger than anything we have tried. Will the walls even support this weight”

Evan nodded. “With reinforcement. We anchor the frame into the stone. We carve energy channels into the tower’s foundation. The whole thing will be part weapon part building.”

Rhel let out a low whistle. “You are turning the fortress into a machine.”

Evan smirked. “Why not If this world wants war through innovation then Ironhold becomes a forge.”

The room buzzed with heat and anticipation.
Craftsmen sharpened tools.
Metalworkers heated alloy slabs.
Lens shapers fetched every crystal they had.

Evan stood over the blueprint and added new lines.
A long focus barrel.
A control lever.
A stabilizing core chamber big enough for a compressed mana crystal.

“This will not be easy,” Evan said. “It needs perfect symmetry. If any channel is off by even a finger width the cannon will misfire.”

Taron nodded quickly. “Then we work slow and careful.”

Evan pointed at him. “Not slow. Efficient.”

Rhel crossed his arms. “How long to build the first one”

Evan paused. “Three days if we push. Maybe two if nothing goes wrong.”

Rhel didn’t like the answer but he nodded. “Then we start now.”

They began assembling the first frame. It took six men just to lift the outer plate. Evan directed them to bolt the edges, then guided the crystal cutters to begin shaping the long inner lens. The workshop floor shook with the rhythm of hammers and boots.

Hours went by.
Heat filled the air.
Sweat dripped from every forehead.

Evan worked the entire time without stopping. His hands scraped the metal edge, carved grooves, smoothed panels, and slotted stabilizer bars into place. Taron assisted without hesitation, handing him tools before he even asked for them.

At one point a craftsman exclaimed, “Master Marshall the stabilizer coils are overheating again.”

Evan rushed over and examined the coil. “Too tight. You did not leave enough space for mana drift.”

He loosened the coil and added a thin coating of mana paste. The glow stabilized and the trembling stopped.

The craftsman bowed in relief. “Thank you.”

“No mistakes,” Evan said. “Not on this weapon.”

By midday the cannon frame was almost complete. The long barrel rested across wooden supports like a metallic beast. The alloy shimmered faintly as mana flowed through the early channels.

But as Evan stepped back to admire the work, a soldier ran into the workshop out of breath.

“Commander Rhel! Message from the north towers!”

Rhel turned sharply. “Speak.”

“A figure was seen near the forest edge. Not a scout. A lone mage. Standing still for several minutes. Watching the fortress. And then… he vanished.”

Evan’s blood chilled. “The Coil Guild.”

Rhel nodded grimly. “They must have sensed the new weapon forming.”

Taron whispered. “Can they sense the cannon from that far away”

Evan answered softly. “If they are good enough.”

Another messenger rushed in. “Commander! One more report. The mage left a mark on a tree. A spiral sigil carved deep with mana. A warning.”

Rhel looked at Evan. “They are watching every step we take.”

Evan tightened his grip on a metal brace. “Good. Then let them watch. Let them see what real precision looks like.”

He walked back to the cannon frame with renewed determination.

“We finish the prototype by dawn,” he said. “No delays. No stops. If the Coil Guild wants to judge our work, then they should judge it completed, not half made.”

The workshop erupted with energy.
Tools slammed.
Metal rang like distant thunder.
Crystals glowed bright.

Evan climbed onto the frame and began carving the main flow path with slow steady pressure. His hands moved with perfect consistency, guided by years of miniaturizing and modeling.

Craftsmen worked beside him.
Soldiers reinforced the walls.
Rhel coordinated everything with sharp commands.

As night fell the mana cannon stood half finished but undeniably real—a towering testament to innovation and stubborn craft.

Evan stepped down, wiped sweat from his eyes, and stared at the weapon.

This world wanted an arms race.
The Coil Guild wanted balance.
The Serpent Kingdom wanted control.

Ironhold wanted survival.
Evan wanted progress.

And by dawn the balance of power would shift again.

The first mana cannon was coming to life.