Location: The Midgard Company Weapons Proving Grounds
Time: Day 229 After Alec's Arrival
The proving grounds had once been a vineyard.
Now it was a canvas of fire, steel, and sound.
Rows of straw-filled torsos lined the testing lanes. Behind them, reinforced walls of raw timber—soon to be replaced with stone—caught the impact of bolts and blades. Men stood in formation. Not nobles. Not mercenaries. But Ducal Guards, reformed and ready.
At their head stood Alec Castellan, coat unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, chalk smudged across one cuff. His eyes moved not with excitement, but with calibration. Every second here was data. Every weapon a variable.
Today was weapons testing.
Not forging.
Not theory.
Proof.
⚔ Swords: Geometry of Death
"Form is as important as sharpness," Alec said, holding a newly-forged blade aloft. "And sharpness is meaningless without balance."
The sword he held was forged from Greyfire Steel—a medium-carbon alloy with hardened edges and a flexible spine, produced in crucibles three weeks ago. It was thirty-two inches in total, with a narrowed fuller, minimal flare at the tip, and an extended tang forged directly into the pommel.
He handed it to Sergeant Corlan. "Strike left quadrant target. Pivot. Reorient. Disarm stance. Go."
Corlan moved like the sword belonged to him.
One cut, one spin, one angled parry through air.
The blade sang.
It didn't bite through the straw dummy.
It cleaved it.
Alec nodded. "Perfected weight distribution. Next series will include hilt guards optimized for hooked counters."
He marked a note on his slate: Prototype Class-S2: field-approved.
🏹 Bows and Crossbows: Pressure Made Precision
The archery teams lined up next.
The standard longbow had long been the weapon of the peasant-soldier. Simple to produce. Easy to train. But the draw weights limited its stopping power—especially against advancing cavalry or armored infantry.
Alec had been working on something else.
"Wind-bend series, forward," he called.
Ten soldiers stepped up, each equipped with laminated recurved bows made from composite horn, sinew, and steam-bent ash. Alec had overseen the construction himself, inspired by steppe designs and biomechanical leverage.
At seventy paces, they loosed in two volleys.
Every arrow struck within the inner two rings of the straw-circle targets.
"These aren't for massed units," Alec said. "They're for kill groups. Each strike counts. Used in fog, at night, from elevation. Expect training rotations next week."
Then came the crossbows.
Steel prod. Dual-lever cocking crank. Optimized for quick reload, with a reinforced winch.
He raised a prototype bolt: shorter than standard, but weighted with steel-core heads.
"They'll punch through two inches of pine and most plate mail," Alec said, handing it off.
The bolt was loaded.
Fired.
It struck the test armor so hard, the echo rattled teeth.
🔧 Bolts and Arrows: The Real Workhorses
Serina arrived as the third series began: bolt and arrow standardization.
She stood beside Alec without a word. He didn't glance at her.
Each bolt was weighed, measured, tested for fletching rotation and steel tip integrity.
Alec had implemented a grading system:
Type A: High-penetration armor-piercing bolts
Type B: Barbed anti-personnel shafts
Type C: Blunt force for riot control or non-lethal combat
Type D: Incendiary tips (restricted)
"Field adaptability is more useful than elegance," he murmured.
"I thought soldiers liked elegance," Serina said, arms folded.
"They like survival."
🔨 Siege Concepts: The Machines of Pressure
Further back on the proving ground, a frame of wood and counterweight waited.
It was not pretty.
But it was functional.
"Trebuchet Mark I," Alec announced to the observing commanders. "Max launch weight: 110 pounds. Counterweight: 1,100. Current range: 380 feet with rock payload."
The counterweight dropped with a crack.
The arm whipped up.
The stone flew—arcing like a shadow drawn by the gods—before crashing into a designated wooden tower half a field away.
Splinters rained.
Gasps followed.
"Not yet battle-ready," Alec admitted. "But scaled production can begin. We'll move to traction trebuchets next—easier to deploy, faster to reload."
He then motioned toward a separate field.
There stood a thick, low-framed ballista, its arms reinforced with horn-laminated ash and tension twisted ropes made from treated ox sinew.
It fired a bolt the length of a spear.
The test shield shattered.
"I'll reduce draw resistance by seven pounds," Alec said. "Then begin chariot-mounting designs."
🪓 Rams, Towers, and Beyond
He turned last to a small team assembling a frame base with iron wheels—the beginnings of a siege tower.
The bottom was open.
He squatted beside it and pointed to the wheel sockets.
"Reinforce these with steel rings. Create locking mechanisms. We need to account for slope breaks."
One engineer asked, "Won't that add weight?"
"Yes," Alec said. "That's why we train oxen. Or modify push designs. If siege engines only move downhill, they're coffins."
They laughed.
He didn't.
📜 Integration with the Guard
Every week, new prototypes were issued to the Guard.
And every week, feedback came in:
Swords too brittle? Tempered twice.
Bowstrings fraying under tension? Shift to boiled flax composite.
Siege wheels locking in soft ground? Alec ordered early ball bearings made from smoothed iron rings and animal grease.
Crossbows taking too long to load? Introduced windlass cranks for heavier prods and reduced combat reloads.
Alec didn't chase perfection.
He hunted improvement.
🕯 Final Scene – Serina & Alec, Post-Test
They walked the lanes in silence.
Serina broke it first.
"They're starting to see it, you know."
"See what?"
"That this isn't about winning wars. It's about making them irrelevant. If Midgard's weapons can't be matched—"
"They won't be challenged," Alec finished.
She glanced up at him.
"Do you ever stop planning?"
"No," he said. "Because the world doesn't stop resisting."