Autumn was always a busy season.
Between the end of the harvest and the need to prepare for winter, there was never a dull moment. In the Village of the Great Tree, we also had to get ready for the martial arts tournament. On top of that, we were dealing with the arrival of the new migrants from the Centaur Race.
In short, we were swamped.
However, have you ever noticed that the busier you are, the more likely you are to pour your energy into something completely unnecessary?
Right now, a massive catapult stood before me.
Naturally, the Mountain Elves and I had built it ourselves. It all started during a brainstorming session on how to better utilize the power from our waterwheels. At the moment, the wheels were primarily used for pumping water and threshing, but the villagers had been asking for more ways to put that energy to work.
We were in the middle of designing a mechanism to pump air using the waterwheel when we decided to take a break. That was when things went off the rails.
I don’t exactly recall how the subject of catapults came up, but I have a vague memory of someone mentioning the difficulty of transporting heavy goods over long distances. That might have been the spark. The Mountain Elves were already familiar with the design of such weapons, but I had never seen one in person before. Perhaps that was why I got so carried away.
I wasn’t entirely sure where to measure it from, but it was about five meters long. We’d even added wheels for transport. It followed the standard catapult design, utilizing a heavy counterweight to provide the force.
And there it sat, right in front of me.
Realistically, it was useless to us. But since we’d gone through the trouble of finishing it, I wanted to see it in action. I knew we had work to do, but the temptation was too great.
The Mountain Elves and I pushed the engine to the southern edge of the village. We set it up at the racetrack and placed a target just in front of the South Forest.
"The target is about two hundred meters out," I noted. "Can we hit it?"
"We'll show you exactly what we can do," the Mountain Elves replied, their faces beaming with confidence. It was a reliable look.
Before we started, I made sure to alert Kuro's offspring and Zabuton's children. Safety was the priority. I also told Urza and the other onlookers to keep their distance. Standing in the line of fire was obviously forbidden, but I made sure they stayed clear of the rear as well—if the launch failed, the projectile might fly backward.
Since it was a catapult, we usually would have used rocks, but we substituted them with wooden blocks instead. We carved out one-meter cubes and shaved down the corners to give them a bit of a rounded shape.
We had three of these "dice projectiles" ready, including the spares.
Setting the machine up took a surprising amount of time. To put it simply, a catapult is like a seesaw with a very lopsided pivot point. By dropping a heavy weight on the short end, the long end swings up with incredible speed, launching whatever is sitting on the tip.
"Ready... fire!"
The first shot traced a high arc through the sky. It landed about ten meters wide and behind the target. It had flown way too far.
Despite the miss, the onlookers were ecstatic.
"Don't get any ideas," I warned them. "If you climb on that thing, you’ll be launched into the horizon. Everyone stay back, we’re firing the second shot."
The second shot benefited from some fine-tuning. It grazed the edge of the target, drawing a roar of cheers from the crowd. However, the Mountain Elves weren't satisfied. They went back to work in silence, meticulously preparing the third shot.
The third projectile screamed through the air and smashed right through the center of the target. The Mountain Elves threw their arms up in celebration. The wooden board we’d used as a target wasn't just hit—it was pulverized.
It was impressive power. I was satisfied, but it also drove home the fact that a farmer had absolutely no use for a siege weapon. I was starting to think about dismantling it when the Sake Slime wobbled over.
I wasn't about to launch a slime into the sky. But it seemed the slime had another idea.
We retrieved one of the spent dice projectiles and attached a parachute to it. That was what the Sake Slime had been trying to suggest. We decided to see just how high we could throw it.
It soared about a hundred meters straight up before gravity took over. As it began to fall, the parachute deployed.
"Ohh!"
It was actually quite a sight. It was fun to watch, but the initial launch speed was still terrifying. I definitely wasn't comfortable putting a living creature in that seat.
"Sorry, Sake Slime, but give it up. No sulking."
In the end, I asked Kierbit, who had been watching the festivities, for a favor. She took the Sake Slime—now equipped with its own little parachute—and flew it high into the sky.
The slime looked like it was having the time of its life. At one point, the wind started carrying it toward the forest, but one of Zabuton's children had already attached a silk thread to it. They reined the slime back in like a kite. It landed safely and was quickly retrieved.
Urza wanted a turn, but I gave her a firm no. No matter how much she pouted, I wasn't budging. I did, however, let her help fire the machine.
Soon, we had a regular shooting gallery going for all the volunteers. We set up multiple targets with different point values and mass-produced more dice projectiles. Surprisingly, the projectiles with parachutes attached were much more accurate.
I tried to think of a practical application. Maybe delivering lunch boxes to people working in distant fields? No, that was a terrible idea.
The Mountain Elves were already whispering about design improvements, but I put my foot down.
"No more siege engines. We need to get back to the waterwheel project."
They suddenly turned very serious. I couldn't help but laugh; I knew it was because they noticed the Civil Official Girls glaring at them from a distance.
"Alright, back to work!" I called out.
"Wait, Village Head, you have to stay and supervise the catapult!" one of them argued.
They had a point. Even if I declared the session over, the people having fun wouldn't want to stop. Leaving them with a siege weapon unsupervised was a recipe for disaster.
"Fine. I'll head back to my duties alone. I'm leaving this in your hands. Absolutely no launching living things. And keep the 'improvements' to a minimum."
I looked over at Kierbit. "Kierbit, make sure those parachutes are folded properly. If they don't open, it's dangerous. I know you're curious, but don't do anything reckless."
As for the Sake Slime... it looked like it had already had its fill of excitement for the day.
That evening at dinner, the Mountain Elves were deep in a tactical discussion about how many catapults it would take to bring down a castle wall.
"We aren't planning on sieging any castles," I reminded them. "Here, just eat your mushroom hot pot."
Kierbit and the Twin Angel Race sat nearby.
"Lady Kierbit," one of the twins asked. "Is it always like this here?"
"Pretty much," Kierbit replied with a sigh.
"I was shocked when they rolled out a siege engine... but to think it was just for play and not military training."
"They don't have anyone to invade," Kierbit noted. "Besides, even without catapults, they have those explosive spears. Kudel seems to have taken a real liking to this machine, though."
"True. Her accuracy is terrifying," the other twin added. "I definitely wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of this village."
"Oh? Were you planning on being an enemy?" the first twin teased. "If you were, I'd have to give it my all as your opponent. I'm a permanent resident of this village now, after all."
"I-it was just a figure of speech! I'm a resident here too!" Kierbit stammered.
The twins laughed. "Anyway, this mushroom hot pot is incredible."
"It really is. We should ask for the recipe."
Elsewhere, a Beastman father and son were talking.
"Hey Dad, is life here always this... interesting?" the son asked.
"Just about," his father replied.
"I never thought I'd get to handle a catapult."
"What did you think of it?"
"Hitting a specific spot is way harder than it looks. I even tried launching a ball of water I made with magic, but it just fell apart."
"So you were the one responsible for that sudden downpour. It sounds like the projectile needs enough structural integrity to survive the force of the launch."
"Yeah. I learned a lot. I kind of want to try building one myself."
"Haha. The Village Head says we aren't planning to attack any castles, but go ahead and try."
"Really? You mean it?"
"Sure. But only after you've finished your real work. And jumping straight into a full-sized one is a bit much. Try making a miniature version first. Then you can show it to the Village Head or Ya from the Mountain Elves to get their feedback."
"Got it! I'm going to do it!"
"That's the spirit. Now, let's finish our dinner. It's mushroom hot pot tonight."
"Yeah!"