Kingdombuilding: All My Inventions Are Novelty

Chapter 163: Hmmm!

The scent of wheat mingled with the earthy aroma of soil, wafting on the breeze. In the nearby river, gentle ripples shimmered under the sun.

It was a peaceful and idyllic scene, standing there amid the fields, one could almost forget the looming threat of war. If not for the reavers, this would’ve been a picture-perfect moment of rustic tranquillity.

After chatting a bit more about the upcoming harvest, Simon finally shared with Benjamin, Lancelot, and Liam the news of the reaver envoys’ arrival in Eldora.

"Just over two months?" Benjamin frowned slightly.

Simon noticed his expression and asked. "What is it, General?"

Benjamin replied solemnly. "My Lord, the reaver totem is the steppe wolf. They fight like wolves, cunning and treacherous. We must not trust their claim of ’three months before their attack.’"

"Exactly." Lancelot agreed. "From our experience fighting the reavers, it’s clear they’ll use any means necessary to win. They lie, deceive, and strike when least expected."

Baldwin exchanged a glance with Simon. They hadn’t dealt with the reavers enough to understand their tactics, but now their expressions turned grave.

"Please, elaborate," Simon asked seriously.

Benjamin nodded. "If they say they’ll attack in three months, it’s likely to lull us into a false sense of security. Their real plan is to strike early and catch us unprepared. From this point forward, Your Highness should dispatch scouts into the steppe to monitor their movements and prepare for a sudden strike on Dunmere."

"They’ll almost certainly send small tribes first," Lancelot added. "A probing attack to test our defences before committing their main force."

Liam opened his mouth to speak, but with both of them covering the essentials, he simply nodded and said nothing.

Simon nodded slowly. This information changes everything.

If the reavers did launch a probing attack, he had to make sure not to reveal the cannons too early. The element of surprise must be preserved until the main army arrives.

"Very well," Simon said. "General Benjamin, I ask that you personally oversee Dunmere’s defence. Leave only enough soldiers behind to harvest the wheat."

Benjamin gave a crisp nod. "Rest assured, Your Highness. With me in Dunmere, the city will stand like a mountain."

With the matter settled, Benjamin and the others departed immediately. They needed to lead the Brambleford Army back to Dunmere City without delay.

Simon and Baldwin remained. Their job was to ensure Dunmere’s supply lines stayed open.

By midday, they had inspected all the government-run fields. Baldwin returned straight to the Command Office, already planning how to coordinate grain and supply deliveries.

Brambleford was now in a state of full military readiness.

That afternoon, Simon visited the machinery department. He instructed Fjord to hand over the newly finished ten cannons to Baldwin for immediate transport to Dunmere. One additional cannon would remain behind for training purposes.

Plans rarely keep up with change.

"My Lord, will ten be enough?" Fjord asked, watching as slaves carefully lifted the cannons onto carts.

"It won’t be," Simon replied grimly. "But we don’t have a choice. Let’s just hope the reavers arrive late." He paused. "By the way, how’s production going on the powder bombs I asked for?"

At the mention of that, Fjord looked rather puzzled.

"My Lord... I understand the rusted nails inside. But... Why are we packing animal dung into them?"

"You wouldn’t understand even if I explained," Simon said. "Just follow instructions. Divert some labourers immediately to start mass-filling those powder bombs. We’ll make up in numbers what we lack in firepower."

Fjord scratched his head but nodded. The whole business with the powder bombs still baffled him.

"And the catapults?" Simon asked.

"We’ve already built thirty," Fjord replied. "I had Harlan call in extra carpenters. Since it’s just a basic design, production is fast."

He pointed toward a courtyard nearby. "They’re assembling more right now."

The catapults Simon had requested were small and portable, with a range under 200 meters, and easy to mount atop walls.

Nobody knows when the reavers will strike, he thought. We must prioritise speed. Sacrifice complexity for quantity.

In the adjacent yard, hundreds of carpenters were hammering away.

The design was a simple torsion catapult, modelled after a bow. A bent bamboo arm was tied with hemp rope on each side, forming a spoon-like scoop at the centre.

To fire, soldiers would pull back the scoop and release, just like drawing a bowstring.

It required three soldiers to operate, but was quick and easy to make.

Simon had found this design in the system, the simplest, fastest solution to deal with the urgent threat.

"Have Harlan send more carpenters," Simon said. "Dunmere needs at least fifty of these. We’ll need them there within the next few days."

The urgency in his voice wasn’t lost on Fjord.

"My Lord, are the reavers already on the move?" He asked.

"Most likely," Simon answered. "We must be ready."

Fjord nodded. "Then I’ll push production even harder. Also, the fourth iron mould is almost done. By the end of next month, we can produce another sixteen cannons."

Simon let out a long breath. "That brings us to twenty-six total. Let’s hope it’ll be enough."

If Benjamin’s hunch was correct, they wouldn’t even get the full three months.

It was like a boxer counting ’one, two, three’ before a match, except the punch came on ’two.’

But such is the art of war. If the reavers fought fair, the Eldorian Empire wouldn’t be in this sorry state to begin with.

Fjord scratched his head. "That’s the best we can do for now."

Then he remembered something. "Ah, Your Highness, the glass lenses you requested from the glassworks are finished. I have them here."

"Excellent," Simon said. "Give them to me right away. Benjamin leaves for Dunmere tomorrow; he’ll need this for reconnaissance."

Fjord left and returned with a small wooden box.

Inside were three pairs of circular lenses, thick in the centre, thin at the edges. One set was a convex lens, a magnifier. The others were concave lenses.

Simon’s plan was simple: assemble a monocular telescope.

It wasn’t just a matter of slapping two magnifiers together. Without a prism, the resulting image would appear inverted.

So instead, he combined a convex lens with a concave lens, producing a simple refractor that gave an upright image.

The trade-off? Narrower field of view. Lower magnification.

But for now, that was more than enough.

A single monocular scope, he thought, is worth a hundred scouts.