New Weapon Achievements (1)
Swish. Swish.
"If we build warships in a format like the diagram, operating the cannons will be..."
Having finished writing the letter, John Brown first gazed at the conceptual sketch he'd drawn earlier. It depicted a medieval battleship straight out of a movie from his past life.
'They'll figure out the rest on their own.'
No matter how much of a military otaku he was, he couldn't possibly know the internal layout of a medieval warship down to the last detail. Brown sealed the letter and moved on to the next document.
[Matchlock Operation Report]
'Hmm...'
There wasn't much to it. They were conducting regular firing drills, with notes on various minor details. Still, since it was written positively overall, there were probably no major issues.
'I wonder how things will play out from here.'
As far as he remembered, something big was bound to explode soon. But since he'd skimmed the novel and dropped it, he had to piece it together from the early bits he'd read and what his friend had told him.
'If I'd known I'd reincarnate, I would've actually finished the damn novel.'
Brown scratched his head and stood up from his seat.
He needed to head to the forge and check on production status.
'Might as well drop by and see Karen while I'm out.'
He hadn't been able to meet her lately due to his packed schedule. Brown stepped out, heading outside.
"Ah, it's you."
"Here to check on the second production batch."
"It'll be done within three days."
After confirming production status, Brown made his way to the gunpowder workshop. It was the place Luna Karen had set up after graduating from the academy—this would be his second visit.
'This the place?'
He entered the office attached to the gunpowder workshop.
"Brown? Long time no see."
"Yeah, it's been a while. You super busy?"
"Nah, pretty much wrapped up. Have a seat."
Luna Karen tidied up her papers, brewed some coffee, and sat down across from him.
"Thanks, coffee smells great. How's the workshop going?"
"Hehe, it's tough. But way better than being a TA at the academy. I can keep doing research too."
Just as she said, her face looked much brighter than back when she was at the academy.
"Orders are pouring in from everywhere too. Turns out there's more demand than I thought."
"Glad to hear it."
"How about you, Brown? Holding up okay?"
"Me? Suffering under the mountain of extra work, as usual. The cannons are getting rave reviews from the navy, and the matchlocks..."
Time flew by as he chatted with Luna Karen.
"Whoa, already this late... I should head out."
"Had fun today. Swing by anytime, no pressure."
'Must be nice.'
She seemed genuinely content with her life.
Meanwhile, navy soldiers were shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Damn it, I wanna board one of those cannon ships too!"
"With cannons, we wouldn't even have to fight those pirate bastards up close to win, right?"
"Teeeng, I wanna fire cannons too!"
Soldiers everywhere were clamoring to serve on warships equipped with cannons.
"Still doing close-quarters boarding against pirates? Fucking pathetic. Poor souls, left behind by the times."
"Ahh, the sight of cannons spewing fire... pure ecstasy."
"The barrel glows, the shells deliver judgment. We bestow justice upon pirates and crush crime with raw force. Oh cannons, keep me by your side. Those who spill others' blood shall spill their own."
Those already assigned to cannon-equipped warships lounged about smugly.
This frenzy wasn't limited to the rank-and-file soldiers.
"John Brown, was it? Find a way to draft him into the navy."
"Ugh, why don't we have talents like him?"
"Ah, John Brown. Why do we have so few cannons? We need cannons. More cannons...!"
Word of the cannons spread among the officers too, and soon they were all begging for more.
"A reply from John Brown!"
"Read it quick!"
"Ahh... the gospel has arrived... I'll read it with reverence."
Yeah, yeah. Here's a rough sketch. Don't know ship structures, so this is the best I can do. Make sure to plan storage for shells and powder properly. Good luck with navy life!
Enclosed with it was the battleship diagram.
"Urgh... cannons arranged by deck for optimal use? Revolutionary...!"
"Ahh, twenty-four guns per side? Hehe... kekeke..."
"Not enough, bigger, more...!"
"A dozen per battleship!"
"Budget... we need a bigger budget..."
"Ugh, twenty-four in a volley—fire!"
The diagram circulated, eventually heading to the shipyards along with requests for additional funding. They'd heard the rumors about the cannons too, so they received it eagerly.
"Damn, this is revolutionary."
"Lemme see... damn, revolutionary."
"What's it say? Damn, so what's the internal design?"
"Says we should figure that out ourselves?"
"?"
The shipyards boomed suddenly from the order surge, enjoying a rare hot streak. One section refitted existing ships while another built new ones.
"So when do the cannons arrive?"
"Mom, sorry. Looks like I gotta board pirates hand-to-hand... I'll come back healthy. See you next leave..."
"Weird? They were due by now? Weird? Due by now? Weird?"
"Additional order?"
Cannon add-on order quantity: 2,000 guns.
"Urgh..."
Brown's back bent like a bow from the workload.
Meanwhile, imperial bureaucrats were tearing their hair out over barbarians near the border.
"Damage is getting worse every year."
"Yes. Complaints from border citizens are mounting. Lords are requesting aid too. Trade's become difficult."
"If trade's an issue..."
The bureaucrats exchanged glances.
"No spices...?"
"No way to appease the wife... can't get luxuries anymore?"
"Serious matter."
"Very serious."
"Deploy troops mainly to areas hit hardest by barbarian raids."
"Mm. For justice."
"For the people's peace."
Thus, some forces were redeployed to the border—including a unit testing matchlocks.
"Fuck it, just barbarians. How tough can they be?"
They headed to their posts without much worry. But what greeted them was...
"Welcome to hell."
Garrison troops, faces sunk in despair, greeted them listlessly.
"What the hell happened...?"
"Ahh... the barbarians..."
"Disgusting savages. They poke and prod lightly at first, then retreat when reinforcements arrive. Come back, and your base is looted."
"Kek. Fought 'em? Crazy bastards who don't fear death."
"Fought 'em all day? Despair as they swarm endlessly...?"
"I saw it. A short fucker swinging a club at the soldier next to him, grinning with a spear in his gut. Urgh..."
"I wanna go home, I wanna go home..."
They were soaked in defeat. The reinforcements grew confused.
"Weaklings. Bring on the barbarians."
"What if it's worse than we imagine?"
"You infected too? Snap out of it."
One garrison soldier smirked at the reinforcements.
"Kek. That spirit. Nice attitude. Hope you keep it after meeting them."
"Shut your jinxing mouth. We've got knights; barbarians are nothing."
"We had knights too."
Past tense. The garrison soldiers just spouted ominous crap.
The reinforcements ignored them and started their duties. They encountered the barbarians soon enough.
"Raid!"
"All hands to positions!"
Soldiers formed phalanxes around the camp.
"Like we trained!"
"Stay calm! Hold your ground!"
Soldiers stood firm, awaiting the barbarians. Archers in the rear nocked arrows.
"Loose!"
-Shwick!
A few leading barbarians dropped to arrows. But the horde charged the phalanx undeterred.
"Kek! Smell the milk on these rookies from here!"
"Ahh... fresh meat... gonna smash ya!"
Thud.
Barbarians slammed into the phalanx. As spearmen felled the front rank, the rear pushed in. Shields held, but barely.
"Damn it, draw swords!"
Soldiers pulled short blades and devolved into melee. After what felt like an eternity, the barbarians fled.
"Is it... over?"
One reinforcement panted, murmuring.
"Regroup! They'll be back soon!"
Scarce moments after the garrison's warning, barbarians swarmed again.
"Fresh meat... gonna smash ya!"
"Milk smell from here! Kek!"
"Miss us?"
"...All hands to positions...!"
"Ah..."
Only then did the reinforcements grasp what the garrison meant.
"Fucking endless bastards..."
Their hearts united in that moment.
Meanwhile.
The matchlock unit's camp came under barbarian raid too.
"All hands to positions!"
"Matchlock gunners, load up! Fire by squad like we trained—first squad!"
Gunners and archers at the ready. Then the order came.
Flames erupted from the matchlock muzzles.