The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

The two stood by the window, Ron leaning against the wall, repeating all the details the villagers had described about the monster: its size, its roar, its attack methods, the location of its lair, and the surrounding terrain.

The farmers said that its wingspan was as wide as a carriage, and its claws were about the size of a blacksmith's pliers. It could pounce on people from high places, and its skin was so thick that arrows couldn't penetrate it.

After listening, Erwin remained silent for a while before speaking, his tone slower than usual.

"Two possibilities: a petrified chicken-snake, or a royal pterosaur."

His finger traced an outline in the air: "The petrified chicken-snake is like a hybrid of a lizard and a rooster, slightly larger than a horse, with a bird's beak and a lizard's tail. Before flying, it raises its neck, fluffs up its feathers, and has very sharp claws."

But the deadly thing isn't the claws, it's the venom from the beak. It can cause a wound to swell and turn black within hours, and the flesh around the wound to rot away. The antidote is not easy to prepare.

"The Royal Pterodactyl is larger than the petrified chicken snake, with a wingspan wider than a carriage. It has no feathers and its entire body is covered in very thick scales."

Its forepaws have degenerated into wing membranes, its hind legs are thick, and its attack method is just as the farmer described: it pounces down from a height, uses its weight to knock down its prey, and then tears it apart.

Ron nodded. "How do we fight?"

Erwin adjusted his glasses. "The petrified chicken snake has extremely keen hearing; the sound of metal clashing at close range can temporarily disorient it."

The best way to fight it is with a crossbow, but a bow will also work, though the arrows need to be heavy. Although its hide is thick, it's not as thick as a real dragon's. The key is to lure it to a low place, as it flies very fast.

He paused for a moment. "Royal pterosaurs are non-venomous; their blood can be used to make potions. Their only weakness is their forelimbs; there's a piece of cartilage at the base of their wing membranes, which is the weakest point on their entire body."

Shooting at the head won't work; its skull is thicker than your breastplate. Use a heavy arrow, aim for the base of its wing membrane.

"The farmers say the monster can fly," Ron said.

"Flying monsters need space to take off. If we can drive them out of their nests, their wings will be fully extended during the few seconds they take off, exposing their weaknesses, and their reactions will be a beat slower than when they are on the ground."

Erwin rubbed off the last few pine nut shells and clapped his hands.

Ron mentally recalled the differences between the petrified chicken snake and the pterodactyl: the former had feathers, used a beak, was venomous, made a sound of fear, and had thinner skin;

The latter is larger, covered in scales, has barbed teeth, and its wing membrane base is a weak point. Both attack from above and have tough hides and sharp claws, but their approaches are completely different. He thought for a moment and then asked another question, "Would their hides be suitable for making armor linings?"

Erwin thought for a moment, "Either is fine, especially pterosaur hide, which is very tough and is a top-quality material that leatherworkers dream of."

Ron nodded, stood up, and went to the blacksmith's shop.

Brom squatted in front of the furnace, the furnace chamber was burning orange-red, and several blueprints were spread out on the worktable next to him, one of which was already being prototyped step by step.

Ron stated his requirements: two bags of javelins, with heavy broadswords, sturdy ash shafts, and weights added to the butts.

Brom stood up, walked to the workbench, pulled out a roughly sharpened spearhead from a pile of iron, and weighed it in his hand. "Broad blade, heavy, got it."

He placed the spearhead on the anvil. "When do you need it?"

"The sooner the better."

Brom thought for a moment, quickly going through the time and manpower arrangements in his mind. "Get everything done for you by the day after tomorrow."

Then he looked at Ron, his gaze sweeping over Ron's shoulders and arms. "You use a javelin?"

Ron knew what he wanted to ask. In fact, he was much more skilled with a bow than with a thrower, but the bow he needed was too heavy.

Fiona's longbow wasn't that heavy either; the bows available in the camp were like toys in his hands, cracking after being drawn a few times. No one could make the bow he needed, so javelins were the only option.

"The monster is large enough that spears are more suitable."

Brom didn't ask questions like "Can you throw spears?" He wasn't the type to ask pointless questions.

Ron returned to his room and pulled out several charcoal sketches from the corner of the wall. He had drawn up the design for the water-powered forging hammer a long time ago, but some parts needed modification. Ron was prepared to abandon the initial draft of the four-hammer linkage.

The time and money required for the initial design were beyond his current means. He sat at the table, constantly revising and correcting the drawings. The smoke made him squint, and then he called Erwin over.

The coarse paper lay flat on the table, the lines not neat. Ron wasn't the kind of person who would use a ruler to draw, but the dimensions and structure were written very clearly, and he retraced some of the lines that were drawn crookedly.

His finger pressed on the edge of the wheel-shaped structure in the picture. "A waterwheel, about three meters in diameter, installed in the narrowest part of the river, the area behind the granary, where the current is strongest."

The picture shows a waterwheel placed directly at the mouth of the canal. A protruding "ear" is installed on the main shaft of the waterwheel. The cam rotates with the shaft, and lifts the crossbar once with each rotation. One end of the crossbar is fixed to the support, and the other end is hung with a solid forging hammer.

Ron put down the charcoal pencil. "Hydraulic forging hammers are a mature technology we have over there, capable of mass-producing armor blanks and components."

Erwin bent down to examine the blueprints, quickly grasping their structure and beginning to assess their feasibility. The more he pondered, the brighter his eyes became.

"How heavy is the hammer?"

"Sixty pounds is the minimum, enough to break up a plank."

"The cam is directly mounted on the main shaft. When the main shaft rotates once, the cam pushes the lever once, and the hammer strikes once. The structure is simple, and the fewer parts there are, the fewer things will break."

Erwin's finger traced the horizontal bar on the drawing from the cam to the hammerhead: "Where's the fulcrum?"

"The cast iron support is embedded in the stone base and is integrated with the anvil base, so that the force is directly discharged into the ground."

"What is the material of the cam?"

"Oak wood with an outer iron ring. The combination of hardwood and iron is better than that of pure iron parts. All the wear and tear is on the wood, and the cam itself becomes a consumable part. If it breaks, you can just replace it. There is no need to disassemble the entire spindle."

Erwin grunted in agreement, his gaze sweeping over the blackened squares on the right side of the drawing. Those were the four-hammer linkage diagram he had drawn earlier. Ron hadn't unfolded it; he had simply pushed it to the corner of the table.

"We'll talk about that later," Ron said. "Right now, use the single-target hammers to forge the breastplates, just enough for our troops."

Erwin refocused his attention on the single-unit hammer sketch on the table. He was silent for a moment, then began to report the questions one by one.

"For the base, we can use locally sourced granite; placement shouldn't be a problem. We also need to build a furnace to work with it, which can be made of stone or clay."

"Ken"

"The hammerhead cannot be installed and tested until the base is in place."

"I know"

"Three months," Erwin looked up. "From digging the canal to producing the first armor blank, it can't be any shorter."

"Three months," Ron repeated, "Can you make it?"

"Yes," Erwin pushed up his glasses. "Technically, it's not too difficult, and the materials are all locally sourced."

He carefully rolled up the blueprints for the single-unit hammer, tied them with a thin rope, and tucked them under his arm. He paused as he reached the doorway.

"Once this thing starts working, we'll be more than just agents in the Baron's hands."

"I know," Ron said.