paranoianovel Chapter 87: Torsion Ballista
Chapter 87: Torsion Ballista
The catapult positions were set up on a platform raised by rammed earth behind the north wall. Three counterweight catapults faced north, and two others were half dismantled and under maintenance, making it impossible to tell what they originally looked like.
This greatly disappointed Harland. In fact, he knew very well that Ron would not let him see the catapult, after all, the catapult was now the most powerful strategic weapon in the territory.
The ballista is not placed here.
Ron led him into a newly built workshop made of blue bricks at the foot of the city wall.
The workshop was small, with disassembled crossbow parts hanging on the four walls and a layer of fine sand on the floor to absorb oil. Several carpenters were squatting by their workbenches, using files to polish the teeth of gears. When they saw Ron enter, they stopped and bowed, then continued working.
An assembled crossbow was set up in the very center of the workshop.
Unlike the eight-ox crossbows on the city walls that required dozens of people to operate, this ballista was only half a person tall. Its wooden base had four lockable wooden wheels, and the barrel was a single piece of old oak planed into a groove, the end of which was fitted with a torsion string made of twisted cow and animal sinew.
The torsion string is not a pull rope, but two tendons as thick as a wrist, which pass through metal holes on both sides of the groove and are tightened by an iron winch.
With each turn of the winch, the ribs tighten a little more, and the force accumulates in those taut fibers, waiting to be released.
There is a simple ruler sight at the front of the slide, and the release trigger at the rear is a hybrid iron and wood structure, with a trigger guard so large that two fingers can be inserted.
"A torsion ballista." Ron patted the oak edge of the slide. "It's cocked with a winch, and the energy is stored in the ribs. The bow arms aren't wood, they're these two ribs. It has a range of four hundred paces, with a precision range of up to two hundred paces for direct fire. It uses two types of ammunition: solid iron shot for battering rams, and shotgun pellets for dense infantry. It can be operated by two people, one for the winch and one for aiming. It doesn't require magic. Of course, if you use an iron spear instead, it would be very effective against Earth Knights."
He didn't care about the iron spearhead, because it didn't require magic.
They can make these things themselves in their territory.
What Harland really cares about is not using magic. On the Blackthorn Wasteland, heavy weapons that don't require magic can be copied by any territory.
He walked up to the ballista, bent down, and touched the tendons of the torsion string with his fingers.
The surface of the tendons was coated with a thin layer of grease, and it was well maintained, with no cracks or mold spots.
He then examined the winch gears; they were made of iron, with smooth, well-polished teeth that meshed tightly, and there was no excessive play when turning the handle.
He spun around a few times, and the tendons emitted a very faint creaking sound, the sound of torque accumulating.
The sight has several horizontal lines engraved on its scale, corresponding to fifty paces, one hundred paces, and two hundred paces respectively.
Haaland straightened up and tilted his head toward the wasteland outside the east wall.
"Two hundred paces, that mound of earth, fire a shot."
Ron nodded to the carpenter next to him.
The carpenter pushed the crossbow to the workshop entrance, adjusted the angle of the base plate, locked the iron wheel, one person turned the winch, and another person put a fist-sized solid stone into the chute.
With each turn of the winch, the torsion string tightened a little more, the iron ball in the chute trembled slightly, the scale stopped at 150 steps, the pitch angle was adjusted, and then the carpenter looked up at Ron, who nodded.
The carpenter pulled the trigger.
The stone bullet made a sharp whooshing sound as it left the bowstring, drawing an almost straight arc in the air. It exploded into a cloud of yellow earth the moment it hit the mound, chipping off a piece from the top of the mound. The fragments of earth flew several steps before landing.
Harland squinted at the chipped mound of earth and asked a crucial question: "How many spare rib bundles are needed for each ballista?"
"Three, each can fire two hundred rounds. They must be replaced after two hundred rounds, or they will break." Ron was prepared. "A complete set of spare parts: two torsion strings, four iron wheels, a set of winch gears, and five spare springs for releasing the trigger. The spare parts will cost extra; I won't charge you more than that, just the cost of materials and labor."
Harland nodded, bent down to touch the tendons of the torsion string again, then straightened up and said, "One ballista per month, six ballistae, plus a full set of spare parts. What kind of trade are you willing to use? Money, or grain?"
He had long suspected that Ron already had people in Gorubak Fortress. In the wasteland, food was hard currency, but in Gorubak Fortress, gold coins were the hard currency.
After thinking for a moment, Ron said, "One crossbow cannon costs five thousand catties of grain and ten gold coins!"
Haaland gave a playful smile, but instead of haggling, he nodded in agreement.
"I'll have someone deliver the grain and money tomorrow. I'll buy more in the future, but I hope next time I can get one of your catapults."
Ron remained silent and did not answer. He would not sell the catapult for the time being unless he found a new weapon that could replace it.
However, Ron did not disappoint Harland, giving him a set of balsa wood scale armor before leaving.
"This is a new type of armor produced in our territory. Here, have a set to play with. Give it a good review if you like it!"
Harland was puzzled by the last sentence, but he was still very happy. Since Ron was willing to give him the armor, it meant that the armor would be sold.
As for the ballistae, they were actually not much more advanced than the kingdom's ballistae, but they cost less than half the price of the kingdom's ballistae. How could he not be happy?
As for the super ballista capable of shooting down Sky Knights, it is obviously not something we can see for the time being.
"As expected of the Ashwood family, they have a lot of good stuff."
As he left Ashwood, Harland glanced at the city walls and couldn't help but sigh.
Grayson nodded in agreement, though most of his gaze was fixed on the wooden scale armor on Harland's back.
………………
Sanlir stood in the center of the training field, holding a blunt practice sword that Leonardo da Vinci had handed him.
This sword is almost half the weight of a standard cross sword. The blade is not sharpened, but the length and weight of the blade are exactly the same as a real sword.
Leonardo da Vinci stood opposite him, holding the same practice sword in his hand, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Fanta stood at the edge of the training field, arms crossed, watching the twenty-odd young men selected and standing in two rows along the edge of the field. Some were former militiamen, some were former members of Wenger's old forces, and some had just been transferred from prisoners of war to the militia.
Russell leaned against the earthen wall at the edge of the field, using his cane, while Ivan stood beside him. Neither of them spoke.
Looking at the young men's hands gripping their swords, Russell suddenly said, "When I was their age, I didn't even know which end of the sword to hold."
Ivan didn't reply, but his eyes followed the tip of Sanlir's sword.
Mrs. Moriel arrived at this time with a group of little girls, all under the age of ten.
Despite the scarcity of men in different territories, there were still many girls. She spared no effort in increasing the size of the Women's Guard and Women's Team.
She knew very well that now was clearly the best time for women in the territory. As the number of men increased, these hidden benefits would become less and less, so she wanted to secure as much as she could now.
Fanta's expression turned somewhat unpleasant: "Butler Moriel, haven't you brought too many people? I don't have enough space here."