Legacy's Wake

The two boys eagerly decided to visit Laziel's uncle, who lived in a modest house with a small shop beside it, situated not too far from the main marine facility. The excitement of seeing a real collection of guns and hearing stories from an experienced marksman like Jericho made their steps light and their conversation lively as they approached the house. When they arrived, Laziel knocked on the door confidently, calling out to his uncle. A moment later, the door creaked open to reveal a warm and familiar face. Jericho greeted them with a welcoming smile and a wave.

"Ah, welcome, boys. Come on in! Here for a little chat, are we?" he asked, his deep, fatherly chuckle resonating through the small porch. Jericho's demeanor was always one of kindness, and he seemed genuinely pleased to see the two young recruits. Nathaniel, too excited to hold back, shot his hands up into the air and beamed.

"Hello, sir!" Nathaniel began, his voice brimming with energy. "Laziel told me you've got an amazing collection of weapons here—like, really cool ones—on display and in the shop. Can we see them? Maybe even get a tour?" His eyes sparkled with youthful enthusiasm, clearly imagining rows upon rows of rifles, pistols, and other guns lined up neatly, waiting to be admired.

Jericho laughed heartily, patting the boys on their shoulders and gently guiding them into the house. "Of course, of course! I've always got time for you two," he said, his tone as encouraging as ever. "Still dreaming of becoming the best marine snipers, I see. I admire that kind of confidence and determination. If you keep working hard and honing your skills, I've no doubt you'll grow into outstanding marksmen. And who knows? You might even become rivals—pushing each other to new heights!" Jericho's words carried the weight of his own experience, and it was clear that he truly believed in their potential.

"You really think so, Uncle?" Laziel asked, his voice filled with hope and excitement. His eyes practically glowed as he leaned forward, hanging on every word. "Me and Nate, the best marksmen? That would be incredible! Imagine us hitting targets from impossible distances, threading bullets through tiny hoops like it's second nature!" Laziel's excitement was infectious, and Nathaniel couldn't help but grin ear to ear at the thought. The idea of one day living up to Jericho's legacy filled them both with determination, sparking dreams of greatness that felt closer with every passing moment.

Jericho led the boys to a private room at the back of the shop, pulling out a heavy brass key from his pocket to unlock the door. As the door creaked open, he gestured for them to enter. "Welcome, boys, to my personal collection—a casket of rifles, pistols, and marksman tools. This is where dreams of precision and mastery take shape."

The two boys stepped into the room, and their eyes immediately lit up with amazement. The walls were adorned with an array of finely crafted firearms, ranging from gleaming silver and iron pistols to long-barreled muskets and rifles. Each weapon was meticulously mounted on the wall, displayed as if they were works of art in a gallery. Jericho's collection spanned decades of craftsmanship, and the room carried the faint scent of gunpowder and polished wood.

"Holy bullets! There's so many!" Nathaniel exclaimed, his excitement spilling over as he dashed toward a nearby table. There, an intricate pistol lay in pieces, its polished parts glinting under the room's soft light. The weapon seemed incomplete, yet its craftsmanship was already exceptional.

Jericho followed Nathaniel's gaze and chuckled warmly. "Ah, I see your eye is drawn to that one. That's a special project of mine—a new pistol I'm designing for the next generation of marksmen. It's not just any pistol, though." He reached down and carefully picked up one of the larger components, holding it up for the boys to see. "This beauty is made from chromacite alloy. Ever heard of it?"

Laziel and Nathaniel shook their heads, their curiosity piqued.

Jericho smiled and continued. "Chromacite is a rare metal found deep in the mountains of Horizon's Peak. It's known for its unique properties—it's both incredibly lightweight and durable, but what makes it special is how it reacts to heat. When this pistol fires, the chromacite absorbs the energy from the heat and stabilizes the barrel, preventing recoil from affecting your aim. That's a marksman's dream, isn't it? A weapon that lets you stay steady even in the heat of battle."

Nathaniel's jaw practically hit the floor. "That's insane! So, like... even if someone's got shaky hands, they could still hit their target perfectly?"

Jericho chuckled and set the piece back down. "Well, not quite. A gun is only as good as the one who wields it. Chromacite might make it easier to control, but precision, timing, and patience—that's all on the shooter. This pistol is for those who've mastered the basics and are ready to take their skills to the next level. It's a tool for perfection, not a crutch."

Laziel's eyes sparkled as he leaned closer, examining the finely crafted pieces. "Uncle, this is amazing. Have you ever used chromacite for your missions before?"

Jericho nodded, a nostalgic smile crossing his face. "I have, lad. Back in my active days, I used a chromacite rifle during a mission to take down a notorious pirate captain. Its precision and durability saved my life more times than I can count. But let me tell you, no weapon, no matter how advanced, can replace experience and skill. That's why training is so important."

The boys nodded, their admiration for Jericho and his craftsmanship growing with every word. The room, filled with weapons that told stories of battles and victories, felt like a treasure trove of inspiration. It was a glimpse into the future they dreamed of—one where they too could be masters of the marksmanship art.

"Speaking of training," Jericho began, leaning casually against the workbench, "I take it the higher-ups kept you two busy yesterday, and you missed out on our session?"

The boys nodded, their expressions tightening with irritation as they recalled the events of the previous day. Laziel was the first to speak, his voice tinged with frustration. "It was awful! We had to clean the entire dining room from top to bottom, and it took us three hours straight. By the time we were done, we'd missed the training completely. I didn't sign up to be a marine just to end up as some glorified chore boy!" He crossed his arms and scowled, clearly still fuming.

Jericho chuckled softly and crouched down to meet Laziel's gaze, resting a firm but gentle hand on his nephew's shoulder. "That's the life of a rookie marine, kid. You're both at the bottom of the ranks, which means chores and grunt work are just part of the deal. It's not glamorous, but it's how you earn your stripes and work your way up."

Nathaniel sighed, his irritation softening slightly. "I get it, but it's just... frustrating, you know? We're here to become marksmen, not janitors."

Jericho gave a knowing smile and straightened up. "I get where you're coming from, boys. Nobody enjoys scrubbing floors and cleaning up after others, but don't lose sight of the bigger picture. Those small tasks teach discipline, patience, and responsibility—skills you'll need when the real challenges come your way. But..." He paused, his smile widening as he leaned in conspiratorially, "if you're eager to prove yourselves, I might have something special in store for you."

The boys perked up immediately, their irritation replaced with curiosity and excitement. "What is it?" Nathaniel asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.

"Tomorrow, there's an excursion outside Cerulean Tide," Jericho explained. "It's a large-scale operation involving marines and marksmen alike. We're heading to a nearby island to hunt down some dangerous beasts that have been causing trouble in the area. It'll be a real test of skill and courage, not to mention a great learning experience. I've managed to secure a couple of spots for the two of you—if you're interested, that is."

Laziel's eyes lit up, and he practically jumped with excitement. "Are you serious? You mean we'd get to join the hunt with real marksmen?!"

Jericho nodded, his expression proud. "That's right. You two have already shown great promise with all the lessons we've had. Your sharpshooting skills are solid for your age—better than most rookies I've trained. This is your chance to put those skills to the test and prove just how tough you've become."

Nathaniel clenched his fists, his earlier frustration replaced by a renewed sense of determination. "We won't let you down, Jericho! We'll show everyone that we're ready for more than just cleaning duties."

Jericho chuckled, ruffling Nathaniel's hair. "That's the spirit. Get a good night's rest, boys. Tomorrow's going to be an adventure you'll never forget."

To be continued...