Chapter 93: The Forge of Vengeance
[DING!]
[Main Quest Unlocked: Defend Your Village]
[The Black Skull Tribe is expanding rapidly across the borders. Survive their impending advance and secure the continuity of your settlement.]
[Bonus Objectives]
[Bonus Objective 1: Completely annihilate the Black Skull Tribe.]
[Bonus Objective 2: Liberate all subjugated and enslaved tribes.]
[Bonus Objective 3: Suffer total casualties under 30% of your tribe’s population.]
[Quest Reward: 6 Tech Points]
Seeing the amount of Technology Points floating on the translucent screen, Kellar could not help but let out a low, sarcastic laugh, causing the hunters around him to glance at each other in wonder.
I see... thought Kellar to himself, dismissing the interface with a blink. If I wipe them out, I’ll have enough points for the forge and metal; if I lose, we’re dead. I like the sound of that.
He stood up firmly, leaning his hands on the wooden table as his gaze swept over the faces of Krag, Marty, Grok, and the exhausted Brak.
"Listen carefully," said Kellar, his tone turning cold and laced with absolute authority. "Keep an eye on the border. Send out daily scouts in the direction of the Ash Valley. We need to see exactly where they are moving, and we must not lower our guard at any moment. They outnumber us and are better armed for now... but that is about to change."
Without wasting a single second, Kellar stepped out of the residence through the snowfall and headed straight for Old Lennis’s workshop. The old craftsman was working diligently at his workbench, putting the finishing touches of sanding onto the spanning lever mechanism of the new hand crossbows.
"Shaman!" said Lennis, straightening his shoulders with excitement as he held up the finished prototype. "I did it! The spanning lever works flawlessly. Even a boy without physical strength can load this high-tension cord in three seconds."
Kellar took the hand crossbow, feeling the balance of the polished wood and the tension of the terror bird tendons. He loaded one of the fletched bolts crafted by Lennis, fitted the external lever, cranked the mechanism with a clean click, and aimed toward a thick tree trunk thirty meters away.
With a decisive motion, he pulled the trigger.
The impact echoed across the entire yard. The fletched bolt flew at terrifying speed, piercing through the bark of the trunk and sinking halfway into the timber with surgical precision.
Lennis and the hunters who had followed Kellar let out a collective gasp at the sheer level of penetration.
"With this mechanism, ten men equipped with crossbows can unleash a rain of projectiles before those warriors in black can even draw their iron swords," said Kellar, handing the weapon back to Lennis with a calculating smile. "Lennis, I want you working day and night alongside your apprentices. I need at least ten of these hand crossbows and a hundred fletched bolts before the enemy finishes crossing the valley."
"You shall have your weapons even if I have to give my life at this workbench, Shaman!" said Lennis, bowing deeply with eyes burning with enthusiasm. "However... we have no more tendons. The weapons would be even better with tendons from stronger beasts, though terror birds will do for now. I used the last of what I had on this crossbow. I will construct the frames and mechanisms out of bone, but we have no more tendons for the strings."
"I will take care of bringing some back tomorrow," said Kellar.
Kellar turned toward Krag and Mentz, who were already awaiting his orders nearby.
"Mentz, accelerate the construction of the perimeter palisade and the watchpost on the hill," said Kellar. "Krag, organize the eleven veterans. Starting today, they will not train as simple hunters. They will learn archery formations, close-quarters ambushes, and suppression tactics. We will use the geography of the Ash Valley to bleed them dry of water and air before landing the first strike. If we can supply ourselves with the weapons first and they still haven’t attacked... we will show them the terror of an ambush!"
"At your command, Great Shaman!" said Krag and Mentz in unison, slamming their fists against their chests before rushing off to execute their tasks.
Once the wooden house fell silent, Kellar walked back to the table and picked up the handful of grayish powder that Brak had brought from the valley. As he focused on the substance, the translucent interface flickered faintly before his eyes, displaying an information window:
[Raw Material Analysis: Volcanic Ash Rich in Sulfur and Nitrates]
[Subproduct of geothermal combustion. Exhibits a high concentration of potassium nitrate (saltpeter) and carbonaceous residues. Key component for the synthesis of primitive black powder.]
Kellar let the powder trickle through his fingers with a cold smirk.
"Common hearth ash, my ass..." said Kellar to himself, wiping his hands. "This isn’t ordinary ash; the soil in that valley is saturated with natural saltpeter. If those bastards in black are using that pass, they are walking on a goldmine without even knowing it."
The presence of nitrates and sulfur in the dirt explained why the land in the Ash Valley was completely dead. To the valley barbarians, that place was merely a desolate gray wasteland; but to someone with Kellar’s knowledge, it was the ultimate raw material to rewrite the rules of war.
"With Lennis’s crossbows we have accuracy and range," said Kellar, staring out the window as the snow fell. "But with this ash... we can craft low-yield explosives and breaching traps. If they try to march in tight formation through the valley canyons, we won’t just wait for them with bolts—we will blow them sky-high."
Kellar brushed the remaining gray powder from his hands and turned toward the darkest corner of the wooden house, where a motionless silhouette waited in silence.
"Grok," said Kellar, fixing his gaze on his guardian. "Prepare for an expedition tomorrow at dawn. We are going out to find something that will ensure our absolute victory."
Grok took a step forward and watched intently as Kellar cleared from the table the leftover ash he had been playing with seconds before. He did not understand his leader’s fascination with that dead dust or the purpose of the journey, but to him it held no importance whatsoever: his loyalty to the shaman was blind, bordering on absolute fanaticism. To Grok, if Kellar said that scorched earth would lead them to victory, then so it would be.
"It shall be done as you command, Shaman," said Grok, bowing his head in reverence before stepping back into the shadows.