The Ultimate Weapon, the Bow (2)

"As expected, our Lord had a plan for everything!"

Biyan wore a look of pure admiration, his expression a mix of deep emotion and awe, as if he were on the verge of tears.

This was a Lord who had trusted his knights with full authority over the barracks. When the treasury had finally stabilized, before Biyan could even prostrate himself and beg for more, the Lord had already handed over funds and manpower, saying, "I know it’s still far from enough, but if there’s a fire that needs putting out, take care of that first."

But the human heart is a fragile thing.

Even for the knights of the North, as cold and sturdy as the mountains, this was no exception. They knew Aiden trusted them and looked after them, but because there were so few opportunities to build personal rapport like typical administrative officials, a creeping anxiety had begun to take root: 'Perhaps our Lord has no real interest in the barracks. Perhaps he only gave us full authority because he found it bothersome...'

'How could I have lacked faith in my Lord!'

But here was the Lord, who had immediately grasped the ambitious plan of the barracks—to provide bows to civilians based on a few keywords, and ultimately raise a powerful militia capable of freely using bows from horseback.

How could someone with this level of tactical insight have no interest in the barracks?

The anxiety that had sprouted was extinguished the moment the word "bow" left Aiden’s lips, and using that doubt as fertilizer, a new, towering sense of respect began to grow.

Naturally, Aiden had just stumbled into this like a blind mouse finding a grain of rice.

'So it is the bow, then.'

This was simply due to ethnic DNA.

Humans who had settled on the Korean Peninsula were, from the very beginning, a people of ranged combat. The name of King Dongmyeong, who founded Goguryeo, literally meant "a person who shoots the bow well," and his descendants, inheriting that spirit, believed that even in the era of "Confucian Taliban" who shouted about the strict separation of men and women, a lady of a noble family wasn't considered cultured unless she owned her own bow.

Commoners who couldn't afford the expensive hobby of archery would just pick up rocks and hold head-smashing competitions with the next village over, and after the advent of gunpowder, they became so obsessed with artillery that the Ministry of National Defense of the Republic of Korea became the self-proclaimed "Artillery Defense Ministry."

There was no need to mention archery, which brought medals to the motherland even when other sports failed, and seeing how they dominated in shooting sports these days, it wasn't particularly surprising that the word "bow" had popped out of Aiden's mouth like a conditioned reflex.

On the other hand, the bow was not a very familiar weapon to the people of this world.

That was understandable, as there existed an overwhelmingly superior alternative to the bow's greatest advantage: long-range attacks.

While there were no gunpowder weapons, there were Great Mages who could be called one-man armies, Great Spiritists who made the impossible possible, and even Great Priests who could revive those who were practically dead.

When you could wave your hand a few times from a distance to summon floods, fire, and lightning, would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few arrows really change the world?

'Though I haven't seen it with my own eyes, of course.'

The problem was this: while a clear superior version of the bow existed, if there were so many people capable of pulling all sorts of things out of their hands, the world would have been torn apart dozens of times over by now.

Naturally, those superhuman beings who boasted such terrifying firepower could be counted on the fingers of two hands even within the Empire, and they weren't deployed just anywhere.

You don't use a butcher's knife to kill a chicken, after all.

Furthermore, a Swordmaster who could split the earth with a single swing would die just the same if a blade were driven into his heart, and even a high-circle mage, who could live up to three hundred years by transcending human limits, would perish from a single glass of poisoned wine. In typical battlefields, they were actually more cautious with their lives.

To summarize: because a superior alternative existed, the bow was devalued, rarely used by knights, and relegated to commoner soldiers.

But in the North, where there were more soldiers than knights and more militia than soldiers, there was nothing shameful about picking up a bow.

Besides, a bow was more convenient than a sword when hunting.

"So, you are planning to train the residents to shoot bows while riding small horses, right now?"

"That is exactly it, my Lord."

"Is it possible?"

"Every village has archers who are called master marksmen in their own right, so we only need to teach them horsemanship."

"I don't think one plus one equals two quite so easily."

"But if it does work, the result might not be two, but twenty, or perhaps two hundred, don't you think?"

Aiden looked into Biyan’s steady eyes for a moment before finally nodding. Then, he immediately began to write down a document in a flowing hand.

Aiden was excited at the thought of teaching the beauty of ranged combat to a people of melee combat.

It had been two years since the village of Helias, located near a lake where the aurora was clearly visible, was formally incorporated into the North.

Because it was quite far from the Lord's Castle, many people still lived without much change from the village's original atmosphere. The number of residents in Helias who farmed was very small. It was famous for being the descendants of hunters who could steam and eat a wolf or two by the age of fifteen. No one knew if the climate, which was even harsher than the rest of the North, had made them this way, or if people like them had intentionally gathered to live near the lake, which was teeming with prey.

In any case, spring was a time when hunting slowed down a little.

"Why?"

"I taught you that this is the time when animals give birth and raise their young, didn't I?"

"I know that, but aren't the young easier to catch?"

"If you catch all the young, what will you hunt when winter returns? You must learn to suppress the greed right in front of your eyes. What is the first rule of a hunter?"

"Patience."

"That's right."

"Aha!"

The father stroked the head of the child, who clapped their small hands as if they had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just realized something, with an affectionate look.

"By the way, isn't it about time you left? The sun is high in the sky."

"Oh, right! Hehe. But aren't you going, Dad? It seems like it's time for you to go to class, too."

"Ugh—."

Helias, once called "the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠village by the lake where the aurora is clearly visible," had gained a proper name after being incorporated into the North, and all sorts of visible benefits had followed one after another.

Merchants with unfamiliar faces, carrying trade permits stamped with the Lord's seal, had gone crazy over the top-quality furs caught by the hunters of Helias and showered them with money, and the mail carriages pulled by fierce-looking cat-folk couriers were packed with all sorts of items they had never seen before.

By the end of winter, a schoolhouse was built to teach reading and arithmetic, and recently, sturdy-looking horses and bows made of high-quality water buffalo horn had been delivered for free. There was also a request to appoint a skilled archer from the village as an instructor to teach the residents archery. The residents of Helias, who had been indifferent, thinking, 'Is there anyone in the world who can't shoot a bow?', became interested like children who had received a new toy when they heard it wasn't just archery, but mounted archery.

"Is riding a horse a bit fun?"

"I'm the best rider in our village."

"Haha, well, my, my."

"It's true."

"Yes, yes."

"I'm telling you, it's true!"

"I heard you. Who said otherwise?"

"The instructor said so too, that I ride much better than most of the veteran soldiers at the Lord's Castle."

"Yes, our daughter is the best."

The child, frustrated by the father's expression that clearly said, 'I'm proud of you, but I don't believe that literally,' vowed to properly humble her father at the skill presentation to be held in a few days.

A few days later.

The villagers gathered one by one in the vacant lot by the lakeside.

"Hey there. Did you finish your homework?"

"Look who's talking!"

"Hahaha. I don't know why I'm suffering like this at my age."

"Still, we have to learn quickly so we aren't embarrassed in front of the kids. They say the kids will start learning to read after this skill presentation and a few more lessons."

"Sigh. We should at least be able to read a little, even if we stumble, before then."

"Me too. I can't just say I don't know if my daughter asks me about her homework later; it's a matter of parental pride."

"Sigh."

"Whew."

Two middle-aged men sighed at the same time, and finding it funny, they immediately burst into laughter.

Since it was a village far from the Lord's Castle, the number of dispatched instructors was inevitably small. Therefore, after a meeting, it was decided that adults would learn reading and arithmetic, and children would learn horsemanship first. It was an order agreed upon from a strictly adult perspective: wouldn't it be less embarrassing if they graduated from being illiterate before the kids?

Puuuuuu—

As the adults were chatting here and there, the sound of a horn rang out low.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Looks like they're starting."

"Indeed."

There were no grand opening remarks. It was a characteristic of the Helias residents, who preferred to show rather than speak. Everyone already knew this was a place to show the results of the children's "mounted archery" lessons, so why waste time with useless pleasantries?

Clop, clop—

Hiiiiiing—!

Dust rose from far away where the horn sound had come from, and just as the neighing of horses and the sound of hooves seemed to be approaching,

Fweeeet—!

Thwack!

"......!"

With a sharp sound that tore through the air, one of the scarecrows set up by the lakeside fell backward with a thud.

"A hit!"

A large blue flag immediately fluttered. The arrow that had pierced the scarecrow's brow was less than half the length of a standard one. The girl, holding a toy-like bow the size of her own torso while atop a long-haired wild horse, smacked her lips after confirming the target.

"Darn, I was aiming to shoot out the left eye!"

A master archer was born.