"Scorpion crossbow, scorpion crossbow…"
Barnett tapped open the Army interface. It was divided into two categories: Ranged Weapons and Melee Weapons.
He clicked on Ranged Weapons.
Ranged weapons included bows, crossbows, javelins, large siege engines, and a "Special" category.
Special ranged weapons: throwing axes, slings, slingshots... "All this outdated stuff. But where are the firearms?"
"That firearm you're thinking of will only become available after you trigger a special event mission," the system sprite explained.
"But gunpowder's just saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. Even I know that," Barnett muttered.
"That formula isn't part of this system, so it can't be integrated. The system won't generate a gunpowder workshop for you, nor will it produce gunpowder. Of course, if you have the recipe, you can pass it on to someone else to make it. But are you really comfortable letting someone else handle that?" the system sprite asked.
"…Not really," Barnett admitted.
If he handed over the recipe to someone else and it leaked, the enemy might get a head start on developing guns and cannons. With his current weak position—lacking both talent and resources—it would be a huge risk. Larger nations could use their wealth and manpower to quickly advance firearms development once they had the recipe. If that happened, Barnett could be wiped out before he even got started. For now, he had to let go of the idea. Maybe once he was ruling a powerful nation, then he could revisit gunpowder manufacturing.
Scorpion crossbows—despite the "crossbow" in the name—were classified as siege machinery.
Hmm... there's also a lever-type catapult. Great for attacking fortifications. He could build that!
Ballista? Also buildable!
Siege towers… Level 4 mechanical tech?
Repeating crossbows… Level 3 mechanical tech.
There it was—Scorpion Crossbow. Also Level 4.
But the requirements were a bit higher.
"So, how do I actually research this stuff?" Barnett asked.
"You need to build a research institute. Then you can begin research," the system sprite replied casually.
"Research institute?"
Barnett immediately searched the system's building list... and finally found the option tucked away in a tiny corner.
Research Institute: Legend has it that during the Dark Ages, theology ruled all. Researching science or technology was forbidden and considered heresy.
"If you really want to build a research institute, choose a hidden location. Keep it secret. Otherwise… the gods will judge you."
...
Barnett rolled his eyes. Then said weakly in his mind, "Build it."
"Where do you want it?" the sprite asked.
"In the basement—right under my manor. I'll dig a hole and cover it with large stones. That should do," Barnett replied after some thought.
"Wow, nice choice. But that'll cost extra," the sprite teased.
"I should have enough gold for it. I don't care how much it costs. Build it now."
"That'll be 1,500 gold. Deducting now."
Barnett winced. It hurt. A lot. But as a former university professor, he understood one thing: science and technology are the ultimate driving force of productivity. No matter the cost, it was worth it. The research institute had to be built immediately so scientific development could begin.
...
With that 1,500 gold deduction, Barnett was flat broke.
He opened the tech interface again and saw the Scorpion Crossbow labeled with a translucent "Research Available." But it came with a condition: a 100 gold fee. Barnett nearly shouted, "This is robbery! Everything costs gold!"
"I can still convert my remaining life into gold, right?" he asked helplessly.
"Just so you know, researching technology is very expensive. After all, science is the engine of progress."
Hearing that, Barnett didn't argue. He just waited silently for the full price breakdown.
"To research low-level tech, it's 1,000 gold. Mid-level, 10,000 gold. High-level, 100,000 gold. Super-level, one million gold."
"That's outrageous. Can I get a discount?"
"Sorry. All tech prices are fixed. No discounts available. Please consider carefully before proceeding."
"Scorpion Crossbow is mid-level tech, right? So I need 10,000 gold? That means I'd have to trade nearly three hours of my life to afford it?"
Barnett winced at the idea of losing time off his life, but having lived in the 21st century, he understood clearly that technology was everything. In this world, mastering technology early could mean guaranteed survival. If it meant future gains, he could always buy his life span back with gold later. You can't harvest without planting first—that's an eternal truth.
Gritting his teeth, Barnett said, "I'll trade my life for 100 gold and begin researching the mid-level Scorpion Crossbow tech."
"But the research institute isn't finished yet. You'll need to wait before starting any research," the sprite reminded him.
"Alright, I'll wait."
Their conversation ended just as Barnett arrived at the military camp. At that moment, he noticed a few Viking warriors walking out of the barracks. One of them held a rope, which was tied to a young woman.
She wasn't stunning, but she was fairly decent-looking.
"Hey, what are you guys doing?" Barnett jumped off his horse, walked over, and clapped a few Vikings on the shoulder like an old friend.
"Chief, this woman claims to be the daughter of a chieftain from a destroyed tribe. Says she has some secret to tell you. Sounded convincing, so we figured we'd bring her to you," the warrior answered respectfully.
Barnett nodded. "Alright, back to the barracks with you. We've won a war—I plan to stay here for a few days. I'll deal with her later."
Of course, his real reason for staying at the camp was because he didn't have anywhere else to sleep. But Barnett said it so smoothly, without blinking, that no one suspected a thing.
Ding!
A system notification rang in his ears.
You have gained a new trait: Silver Tongue.Silver Tongue: +5% Popular Support. Can stack with Morale Boost and Charisma traits. +1 to Shameless attribute.
"What's this 'Shameless' attribute?" Barnett asked while chatting with the Vikings.
"Why don't you think about what you just told those warriors and why you're really here," the sprite replied, unimpressed.
"System sprite, can you do me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?"
"Reveal your true form so I can punch you."
"Tch. What if my true form is a mighty dragon?"
"I'll still punch you."
So, Barnett settled into the camp. The so-called Viking barracks were really just rows of traditional longhouses—places where they ate and slept, more like a giant shared dormitory. Four longhouses formed a small central courtyard used for assembling and training. There were targets, massive training stones, racks of axes... Occasionally, squads would do formation drills or sparring practice to keep their combat edge. Over time, this boosted their experience.
Each barracks had about five or six longhouses, and the town had one camp in each cardinal direction. The whole settlement housed around 2,000 troops, stationed east, west, south, and north.
When Barnett entered the southern barracks, the Vikings there were in the middle of a sparring session. The group had been split into teams, led by elected captains. Each side wielded wooden axes and small practice shields, shouting as they fought fiercely. Nearby, a squad of crossbow-wielding militia lined up at the range, taking turns shooting targets. The shouting from the sparring matches clearly distracted them, as they often turned to watch the brawls.
Spotting their leader, some quick-eyed warriors perked up and tried to greet him—only to be immediately "killed" in their mock battle by the opposing team. Per training rules, they had to be treated as casualties and leave the field, grumbling all the way to the sidelines to cheer on their teammates.
Seeing the chaos, Barnett shouted, "Don't mind me. Focus on your training! Tonight, we drink together!"
With his mid-level Charisma and Silver Tongue trait, the warriors erupted in howling cheers and trained even harder.
Later, one of the Viking captains helped Barnett and his bodyguards sort out sleeping arrangements. The knights were assigned to various unused bunks in the longhouses. On the battlefield, Vikings had discipline, but off it, they were relaxed. Military order wasn't exactly strict in these small tribes. Sleep was sleep—any flat surface would do. No beds left? Then you'd better be fast. Slowpokes ended up in the stables with the horses.
As evening approached, training ended. The longhouses erupted in revelry—Vikings laughing, drinking malt ale, feasting on roast meat, bread, and sausages, all while singing, dancing, arm-wrestling, and roughhousing. The place was wild.
Barnett's knights, being Vikings themselves, fit right in and celebrated alongside their kin.
Even Barnett—an outsider—adapted quickly. He moved from one longhouse to another like a true Viking, drinking, chatting, lifting the mood. His jokes and stories had the warriors roaring with laughter and admiration.
Once things calmed down for the night, a few Vikings sneakily grabbed Barnett and led him to a separate storage room. They shoved him inside, shut the door, and walked off laughing.
Feeling a bit confused, Barnett turned—and saw the girl from earlier, the one tied up and brought from the barracks…