The Javelin is a Bargain.

"Thrust forward with force!"

"Look at you lot—a bunch of useless trash!"

"Your movements aren't standard, and your shouts lack strength!"

"Are you wasting the meat and vegetable soup for nothing?"

"One!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"Two!"

"Shout like this!"

On the training ground, Eckley and his younger brother Gray drilled the militia together.

As the weather gradually turned to winter and the supplies for the season were already prepared, the territory had issued a winter training directive to guard against orc raids.

The training boiled down to two things: learning to use spears and forming formations in different situations.

The other was throwing stones.

Such training could later directly transition them into musketeers and grenadiers—simple and cost-effective.

Just as they were getting into the swing of things, a thunderous boom erupted from the mountain outside Aninsbei City, startling everyone.

Gray quickly turned his head. Only then did he see smoke rising from the distant mountain.

Gray: "A mage?"

Eckley: "An enemy attack?"

Gray immediately thought it over: "Miss Lilim and Grand Commander Lynn are on that mountain. It couldn't be an orc raid, could it?"

Eckley: "Possible. If it's Grand Commander Lynn, he could pull off a spell of that power with some charging."

Eckley hurriedly said: "All instructors, follow me. Gray, you stay and lead them onto the city walls. After we go out, seal the city gate tight, and have the dwarves bring out the spears they've finished first."

When the explosion ended, Lynn climbed out of the trench and sighed in admiration: "The Otherworld Superhuman lives up to his name—I actually threw it a hundred meters."

"Back on Blue Star, most people couldn't even pass the grenade throw. I just chucked an explosive pack over a hundred meters."

Lynn remembered the grenade drills on Blue Star: thirty meters was passing for men, twenty for women, and plenty still failed even at that.

Of course, there were some superhumans who could throw over ninety meters. Before his transmigration, Lynn recalled the record was someone tossing it over a hundred meters, earning the nickname "Human Mortar."

With Battle Qi boosting him, Lynn felt he could turn anyone with talent for cultivating Battle Qi into mortar artillery.

The power exceeded Lynn's imagination. If this were magic, it could count as a Big Move.

But he had an SSS-rank talent—he couldn't apply his own standards to others.

He'd thrown an explosive pack directly, and a wooden one at that.

If it were a grenade, could he hit three hundred meters?

What if he hollowed out a wooden stick, packed it with gunpowder, and threw it like a javelin?

Lynn now knew how long a five-second fuse needed to be. With the previous data, he could calculate and precisely control the detonation time.

Lynn immediately grabbed a notebook and started writing down the data.

The fuse was made like a firework's—barely usable—and hiding it inside the bomb was fine.

Back home, he'd see if he could use his magical talent to create a substitute for a detonator.

Luckily, this world was a magic one, with a large population, and the mage lords looked down on gunpowder.

"Grand Commander Lynn!"

"Miss Lilim!"

"Are you both alright!"

Lynn had just finished his calculations when he heard someone calling him. He turned around and saw Lilim had almost walked back, about fifty meters away, and Eckley had already run over.

As soon as he arrived, Eckley spotted the blast marks and immediately asked loudly: "Grand Commander, where's the enemy!"

"No enemy. I was just testing some weapons." Lynn picked up his basket and headed toward the city: "You're thoughtful. Come on, I'll show you the big treasure."

Eckley and the soldiers exchanged puzzled looks: "Big treasure?"

Lynn took out the last bit of black powder and a fuse from his blue box, repeating the steps from before: "No stones this time—just a pure blast wave. A hundred meters is safe."

"Eckley, Lilim, use your Magic shields." Lynn finished speaking and hurled the explosive pack another hundred meters or so.

The explosion came right on cue, detonating on impact.

"How is it?" Lynn watched the blast, feeling a deep satisfaction. Explosion was art!

"Is this some kind of Magic item?" Eckley asked. "Something like that must be expensive, right?"

Lynn pushed Eckley lightly: "Alright, no. We'll talk on the way."

"Master, how did you make fireworks into something that powerful?" Lilim reached out to take Lynn's basket.

"Fireworks!" The crowd was stunned.

Fireworks were a rich man's toy; the poor had never even played with them.

They certainly knew what fireworks were, but they had never played with them, let alone known they had such power—after all, they had only ever seen the wealthy set them off to explode in the sky.

Lynn stretched his body: "Alright, I still need to go back and keep making weapons. You'll all find use for these weapons in the future."

Lynn couldn't help but sigh inwardly. The transmigrator's staple—truly a must-taste.

Back when he first read transmigrator novels, he found it amusing how shocked the ancients were. After reading too many, the feeling faded.