Chapter 24
Chapter 24
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: From Primitive Era Chieftain to Space Age Emperor
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Taming the horses wasn't easy.
But the breeds we'd brought in were relatively docile, and they bonded well with humans, making them suitable for scouting.
There were no stirrups, but we fitted them with primitive saddles and used reins to control them.
Of course, the trial and error had continued up to now.
The cavalry scouting unit had begun trial operations.
Naturally, the scouting range expanded dramatically.
Capturing horses had become far more efficient, and we expected to use them for hunting soon.
It was one of those days when the wind shifted north and the air grew chilly.
The trial cavalry scouts came galloping through the gates, kicking up clouds of dust.
Blood stained the horses' chests.
The moment I heard the news, I bolted out in shock.
Cavalry—practically an invincible cheat key in this era—covered in blood?
Horses are hard to train, but raising proper cavalry is even tougher.
We were only just now on the cusp of primitive cavalry being born, so even clumsy maneuvers aside, I couldn't easily accept that they'd been bested by someone.
Fortunately, the blood smeared on the horses belonged to the enemy.
Eagle's Eye reported immediately.
"Chieftain! We encountered an enemy scouting party! We fought them, killed most, and captured a few for interrogation. They said they're from even farther upstream than the Upstream Tribe, and they've marked our tribe as a target for winter raids."
"I see. How big are they?"
"We backtracked and secretly scouted their base. The tribe numbers over two thousand. Warriors estimated at three to four hundred, and they're bustling about preparing for war."
"Oho!"
Everyone buzzed with excitement.
Shocked by the news of invaders?
No.
Our tribe's warriors numbered 150, and we were confident we could slaughter them even if they outnumbered us several times over.
"The tribe's about to grow!"
"The spirits knew and planned it all!"
"……."
Whirlwind Tribe had anticipated this, but defeat wasn't even on the table.
A good number of tribesfolk—especially the redheads—considered even entertaining such thoughts blasphemous.
They began piecing together the situation to fit their narrative.
The ringleader was Red Mane, our priest(?).
"The spirits recently sought to expand our territory to the outer walls. This must be their investigation. When the spirits will it, the necessary population rolls right in!"
"Exactly!"
"The spirits foresaw it!"
It was all a misunderstanding.
How the hell was I supposed to know?
At least I now understood this was a population growth event.
But.
Could we survive the winter after absorbing an enemy tribe?
These so-called 'Brown Guys' numbered over two thousand.
Even if many warriors died, our tribe's size would triple.
The enemies seemed to be raiding due to insufficient food to sustain their bloated tribe.
In other words, they didn't have enough to eat.
We'd deal with that after wiping out the incoming raiders.
"Convene a tribal council!"
"Woo!"
The invasion event had begun.
I saw it as similar to the mammoth crisis.
When I reincarnated(?) into this primitive era, I confirmed the custom immortality cheat was active.
I also learned that the patch turning plant-eating mammoths into man-eaters was implemented.
So a massive tribe of two thousand charging in seemed entirely plausible.
Even in the Stone Age, development speeds varied by region—it might not even be an event.
Their armament level at the time: stone axes and spears, plus small, crude shields.
Eagle's Eye had confirmed the shields in their gear.
Less shields and more like holding up a plank of wood.
In a game, their sheer numbers would mean massive casualties no matter how fast you teched up.
If your forces were outnumbered, running was the smart play.
But.
I'd teched way beyond normal.
What a game couldn't implement, reality had pierced through.
Ten times our number might give us trouble, but we couldn't lose even if we tried right now.
The advisors weren't debating victory or defeat.
In this era, productivity hinged on adult males.
Women and children mattered, but losing warriors was a real loss.
Still, deliberations concluded that fighting like we did with the redheads—capturing without kills—was too risky.
"Live captures without losses are impossible."
Black Stone's words were blunt.
Blue Tree agreed.
"They have crude shields. Bashing them senseless with clubs to take alive is near impossible."
"Can't be helped, then."
Everyone nodded readily.
I agreed with the advisors.
Maximizing labor was key, but losing elite warriors in the process would be putting the cart before the horse.
We'd settle for breaking the enemy swiftly and shattering their will to fight.
"How many cavalry are ready?"
"Just ten so far. Not sure how much punch they'll pack."
Eagle's Eye's response.
The scouts were handling horse training now.
Out of 150 warriors, 20 were scouts-cum-rangers.
Meaning we could arm half of them.
"That'll do."
Time to deploy the world's first cavalry.
True cavalry would need stirrups and solid saddles.
Wild horses tamed recently, clumsy rider movements—facts.
But.
Cavalry was still cavalry.
No need to fret over our riders' inexperience.
Horses were bigger than expected, and a man atop one charging was intimidating as hell.
Not for nothing were they called the tanks of the cold weapons era.
Descending on the primitive age?
Beating them would be the hard part.
War preparations kicked off.
The enemy mobilized and descended the river.
Their advance was sluggish; scouts reported their movements nonstop.
About a week out, by my estimate.
Meanwhile, we ramped up weapon production.
Round shields upped to a hundred total; bows for all, 150 made.
All hands on arrow production.
Harvest done, labor plentiful.
Meanwhile, the scouts honed their primitive cavalry skills—Eagle's Eye even nailed a shot from horseback.
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.
'Mounted archers!?'
My heart nearly stopped at first, but Eagle's Eye had real talent for riding.
Other scouts lacked the thigh strength for such feats.
Letting go of the reins while galloping? Easy to say, insane without stirrups.
Eagle's Eye lamented it and came to me.
"Chieftain! These stirrups you mentioned. Do they really need to be super sturdy?"
"Huh?"
"If they just link to the saddle and assist movement, balancing would be way easier."
He had a point.
Conceiving stirrups was the hard part; crude ones were feasible with our tech.
Time was tight, but knocking out ten primitive pairs was doable—we'd try.
Frame: finger-thick willow branches cut into triangular loops.
Apex wrapped in leather cord and resin for flexible rigidity.
Footrest: thin deer ilium slabs topped with paulownia wood panels.
Slightly convex center, slanted edges carved to grip feet.
Micro serrations etched on surface.
Straps: wide cowhide folded double, tendon cords braided inside.
Threaded through saddle frame for length adjustment; holes and bone pegs for steps.
To ease girth strain, X-cross reinforcement straps under saddle top dispersed load.
Finally, resin-oil mix for waterproofing.
Looked pretty good when done.
Twisting side to side in the seat, it creaked but held.
Not bombproof—repairs every few days, possible slippage in action.
Still, stirrups made posture control a breeze.
Not for nothing the stirrup's revolution for cavalry.
That evening, test shots followed.
Eagle's Eye didn't fully rely on them.
Thighs like steel—no strain holding steady.
Thwack!
"Woo!"
Dead center on target.
Horse archers weren't known for accuracy, but stirrups alone bumped Eagle's Eye's hit rate over 30%.
Insane.
Heroic mounted archer material right there.
Other scouts followed suit, firing from horseback with stirrups.
Some missed wide, some close.
But.
For loosing into clustered foes, precision wasn't critical.
Just firing from horse massively boosted utility.
Clap clap clap clap!
"Outstanding!"
I clapped, but my heart pounded like mad.
'Mounted archers in this era? Mongol tech unlocked?'
Still crude, of course.
Proof of concept at best.
But.
In a few years, the world's strongest unit would be born.