Free Web NovelChapter 214: Chapter 207: The Six-Barrel Answer
Thirty-three days remained before the ninety-day industrial review.
Two years and 308 days remained before the compulsory quest deadline.
Seven days had passed since Lucien proposed the six-barrel design.
Titanworks had spent all seven proving that an idea could become considerably more troublesome after gaining weight.
The first powered mechanism now occupied the centre of the testing hall, bolted to a reinforced frame originally intended for heavier machinery — machinery that had presumably done nothing to deserve the comparison. Six 20 mm barrels surrounded a central shaft, each connected to the same rotating assembly. Behind them sat the feed mechanism, timing cam, extraction path, and mana-driven power unit that Gandalf had spent two nights insisting was simple.
Brakka had responded by asking why simple things required so many diagrams.
Gandalf had not answered, which was its own kind of answer.
Ironbreaker stood beside the frame with both hands on his hips, studying the barrel cluster as though waiting for it to confess a structural weakness. Maerath remained near the mana controls, where the faint light moving through the drive channels reflected across his face with the serene expression of a man whose suggestions had been rejected all week and who had not yet accepted this.
The communication set rested on a workbench behind them.
Lucien’s voice came through beneath a layer of soft static. "So this is the first complete mechanism?"
Brakka checked the locking pins along the central housing. "It is the first mechanism with all the important parts attached."
"That sounds less complete."
"It is more accurate."
Ironbreaker leaned toward the communication set. "It rotates, chambers, extracts, and has not yet thrown a barrel through the roof."
Lucien paused. "You say that as though the last part was uncertain."
"It remains untested."
The hand-driven model had worked three days earlier. At low speed, the six barrels rotated in sequence while the mechanical cam guided dummy cartridges into the chambers and pulled them free again. It had been, briefly, the most promising thing in the room.
The first attempt to add power had exposed how generous slow movement could be.
At higher speed, the barrels stopped reaching the firing position at precisely the same angle. One arrived early enough to damage a cartridge rim. Another arrived late enough that the extractor began moving before the chamber had fully aligned. The difference had been smaller than the thickness of a fingernail.
It had still jammed the entire assembly with the enthusiasm of a mechanism that had found its calling.
Ironbreaker rebuilt the main bearing and reinforced the central shaft. Brakka altered the timing cam so the firing mechanism could not release until a barrel reached full alignment. Gandalf separated the mana drive from the firing cycle entirely — the drive now provided rotation and nothing more, while every critical action remained controlled mechanically by the cam.
Maerath had objected to this arrangement for most of the week. He had not stopped.
"A properly synchronized runic system would still be more precise," he said.
Brakka did not look up. "A properly synchronized runic system would also require a properly synchronized mage every time someone wanted to repair it."
"A trained technician could maintain the lesser channels."
"How long would training take?"
Maerath considered the question with the careful honesty of a man who already knew the answer wouldn’t help him. "Several years but magic demands sacrifice."
Ironbreaker grunted. "Excellent. The enemy can circle until the technician finishes."
Maerath looked toward him. "You continue confusing ease of production with quality."
"No," Brakka said. "We continue insisting that quality must survive production."
Gandalf adjusted the mana flow through the drive. "You have built a sophisticated magical weapon and carefully prevented the magic from controlling anything important."
Brakka finally looked at him. "That is why workers may eventually build more than one."
Lucien’s quiet laugh came through the communication line.
Maerath folded his arms. "One day, you will admit that magic can improve machinery."
"It can," Brakka said. "Usually after it stops trying to replace it."
The testing crew brought forward the first belt of dummy cartridges — correct weight and dimensions, no propellant, no projectile. The purpose was to cycle the mechanism under power and expose any timing fault before live ammunition made the lesson expensive. This was the kind of caution that nobody celebrated but everyone appreciated afterward.
Brakka stepped behind the protective screen. "Begin at one-quarter speed."
Gandalf opened the mana flow. The drive unit hummed. The six-barrel cluster began turning.
At first the motion appeared slow enough to follow. One barrel descended toward the feed position, accepted a dummy round, moved into alignment, then continued around the axis while the next barrel repeated the sequence. The spent casing emerged from the extraction path and dropped into the tray. Then another followed.
Ironbreaker watched the central bearing. Maerath watched the mana flow. Brakka watched everything else, with the expression of someone expecting a problem and determined to find it before it found him.
The first rotation completed cleanly. Then the second.
On the third, the fourth barrel reached the extraction point and held the casing for a fraction too long. The next motion forced the damaged round sideways. Metal struck metal. The entire mechanism jammed with a violent jerk.
Gandalf cut the mana drive before Brakka spoke.
Silence returned to the hall.
Ironbreaker looked at the locked assembly. "There."
Brakka crossed the barrier. "Yes. It has failed. Your powers of observation remain terrifying."
They opened the central housing and found the damaged dummy casing caught behind the extractor. The claw on the fourth barrel sat slightly farther inward than the others — a manufacturing difference small enough to escape notice until speed turned it into a catastrophe.
Maerath examined it. "The difference is small."
"It was large enough," Brakka said.
Ironbreaker compared the claw with the others. "We tighten the tolerance."
Brakka shook his head. "For one demonstration model, yes. For hundreds of guns, no."
Ironbreaker frowned. "You want a less precise extractor?"
"I want one that survives ordinary production. Precision that only exists in the first unit is decoration."
Maerath touched the damaged claw. "A self-adjusting runic grip would compensate."
Brakka stared at him.
Maerath sighed. "Yes. Specialist maintenance. Several years. Enemy circling. I remember the speech."
Gandalf crouched beside the mechanism. "A spring-mounted claw with limited travel could centre itself against the casing rim."
Ironbreaker considered it. "Too much movement will delay extraction."
"Then limit the travel," Brakka said. "Enough to absorb small differences, not enough to change timing."
The modification took less than an hour because the replacement part had already been prepared. Brakka suspected Gandalf had built it in advance in case the argument became useful. He chose not to give him the satisfaction of asking.
The second cycling test began at one-quarter speed. Then half. Then three-quarters.
The revised extractor released every dummy casing cleanly. The cluster completed ten full rotations before Gandalf increased the power again.
At higher speed, the ammunition belt began whipping against the feed guide. Each movement pulled the next cartridge forward unevenly, and vibration spread through the rear assembly. Brakka stopped the test before the belt could strike the receiver.
Ironbreaker examined the feed path. "The belt is too free."
Gandalf pointed toward the drive. "A mana-assisted feed pull would keep the pressure constant."
"No direct control," Brakka said.
"I did not say direct control."
"You were about to."
"I was about to suggest a separate feed motor."
"That is another system that must match rotation perfectly."
Maerath stepped closer to the belt. "Use a constant-force enchantment instead. It does not control speed. It only maintains tension." He paused. "And before you say it — no specialist required, limited channels, replaceable sections."
Brakka looked at him. "That is almost reasonable."
"I will try not to repeat the mistake."
Ironbreaker traced the belt’s path. "The pull still needs a buffer. Otherwise every change reaches the cartridges directly."
They settled on a mechanical wheel mounted between the ammunition box and receiver, absorbing the belt’s movement while the simple runic pull maintained steady pressure. The rotating cam continued drawing each cartridge only when its chamber reached the correct position.
For the first time that day, none of them argued over who had solved the problem.
Brakka distrusted the silence. It usually meant everyone was already thinking of something worse.
By late afternoon, the dummy belt ran through the mechanism without whipping or feeding unevenly. The cluster completed twenty rotations at test speed.
Brakka ordered the hall cleared.
The dummy cartridges were removed. A live belt containing twelve 20 mm rounds was carried forward and locked into place. Two firing cycles. No more.
The weapon aimed into a reinforced earthen wall built behind layered timber and packed stone. Heavy barriers separated the test crew from the mechanism. Gandalf strengthened the protective ward around the firing position, which everyone appreciated without commenting on, since commenting would have meant acknowledging they were concerned.
Lucien remained on the communication set. "Twelve rounds?"
"Two complete cycles," Brakka said.
"After seven days of work, that sounds offensively brief."
Ironbreaker checked the frame bolts. "Destruction has always been efficient when properly engineered."
Maerath watched the timing channels. "The mana drive is stable."
Gandalf examined the power flow. "The firing cam is synchronized."
Brakka checked every mechanical lock himself. Nobody commented on how long he took. They valued breathing after all.
The crew withdrew behind the final barrier.
Gandalf opened the drive. The six barrels began turning — slowly at first, then faster, the cluster reaching test speed as the timing cam settled into its mechanical rhythm.
Brakka lifted one hand. "Fire."
The Vulcan answered with a single tearing roar.
Twelve rounds left the weapon so quickly that the separate reports collapsed into one violent sound. The reinforced frame shuddered under the recoil while the ammunition belt vanished into the receiver and empty casings burst from the extraction path. The barrels completed one cycle, then another. The firing mechanism stopped exactly where it had been set to stop. The cluster continued rotating at low speed, distributing heat across the six barrels, performing the one task that had been too much to ask of one.
Smoke drifted around the central housing.
Nobody spoke.
The impact wall carried a concentrated line of fresh strikes close enough together to resemble one long wound in the earth.
Lucien’s voice came from the communication set. "Did it work?"
Brakka remained behind the barrier. "I have not inspected it."
Ironbreaker leaned toward the set. "He would inspect a dragon’s teeth before admitting it had bitten someone."
"That seems so sensible of him," Lucien replied.
Brakka waited until the barrels slowed enough to approach safely.
The central assembly remained aligned. Every casing had extracted. All twelve chambers had locked and fired in sequence. No barrel showed abnormal movement.
The main bearing, however, carried more heat than expected. One frame bolt had shifted under the combined recoil. And the ammunition box was, naturally, empty.
Ironbreaker looked inside it. "Twelve rounds disappear quickly."
Brakka examined the receiver. "That was the idea."
"It becomes less charming when someone calculates supply requirements."
"Then they can calculate them after we determine whether it survives a longer burst."
Maerath held one hand near the central housing. "Heat is collecting around the receiver."
Gandalf nodded. "The barrels divided their load as intended. The chambering cycle concentrates heat here."
"A runic cooling ring would solve it," Maerath said.
"A dispersal lattice tied into the outer housing would be simpler," Gandalf replied.
Brakka looked at both of them. "Limited channels. Replaceable sections. No specialist required for routine repair."
Maerath sighed with the weariness of a man who has been right all week and has nothing to show for it. "You have a remarkable talent for making useful magic sound ashamed of itself."
"I prefer obedient magic."
Ironbreaker checked the mounting frame again. "The future carriage will need stronger stabilization."
"This is not the carriage," Brakka said.
"It moved."
"It was bolted to a workshop frame."
"Then the workshop frame has submitted a complaint."
Lucien spoke through the set. "So the concept works?"
Brakka studied the six smoking barrels.
The mechanism had rotated under power, chambered live ammunition, fired through all six barrels, extracted every casing, and stopped as intended. It had also produced a hotter receiver, a recoil problem, a larger ammunition requirement, and a mounting challenge that would become worse at higher speed.
Twelve rounds fired. Five new problems generated. Which was, on balance, more useful than generating the same old problem for the sixth time.
"It works well enough to continue," Brakka said.
Ironbreaker looked toward him. "That was dangerously close to approval."
"Do not become emotional."
Lucien laughed. "How long before a full burst?"
Brakka glanced at the empty ammunition box. "We fired twelve rounds and discovered five new problems."
"That sounds like progress."
"It is. The old prototypes produced one problem, endlessly, in different costumes."
Brakka looked again at the central assembly.
"The six-barrel design becomes the primary 20 mm development path. We strengthen the bearing, cool the receiver, reinforce the mount, and build a larger feed system."
"What happens to the older prototypes?" Gandalf asked.
"We reuse what worked. Barrels, alloys, ammunition, sighting data, and every lesson they charged us for."
Ironbreaker nodded. "Expensive teachers."
"Effective ones," Maerath said.
Brakka looked toward him. "You are beginning to sound like Malen."
Maerath appeared genuinely offended, which was the most honest reaction anyone had produced all day.
The test crew carried in a longer ammunition belt and set it beside the frame. Nobody loaded it. The six barrels continued turning slowly while heat faded from the central housing. Around them, technicians recorded measurements, marked shifted bolts, and began dismantling the outer bearing cover with the focused energy of people who had just watched something work and were already suspicious about it.
Thirty-three days remained before the industrial review.
The Vulcan was nowhere near production. Its drive needed refinement, its receiver needed cooling, its ammunition supply needed a serious conversation with logistics, and its future mount had not yet earned the right to exist.
Yet for the first time since the original 20 mm gun failed, Titanworks faced problems that pointed forward instead of circling back.
Brakka placed one hand on the workbench and looked at the longer belt.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we find out how much worse it becomes."
Ironbreaker’s beard shifted with a slow grin. "At last, optimism."
Brakka gave him a flat look. "No.This is called scheduling you dim wit"
"Optimism died the day we all started working together"
