At the mountaintop cabin, Zhao Cheng was explaining the structure of a simplified repeating crossbow to a group of craftsmen. In this age, archers were not easily trained, and good bows, crossbows, and fletching were even harder to make. A fine arrow required no fewer than a dozen steps to produce, taking a long while.
Cut down on the steps, and the fletching would have no accuracy to speak of.
But accuracy was not what Zhao Cheng wanted.
Few among his men could shoot a bow. Even if he wanted to train them now, it was too late. After all, he intended to seize Wu City by force next spring.
He knew full well that the longer he wasted away in the forests, the smaller his advantage became. It might seem that more time would let him accumulate greater strength, but in truth, if soldiers remained away from the battlefield for too long, their fighting spirit would eventually become useless.
Having the army farm was fine if it was only for a single season of grain. But if they farmed for several years, the elite soldiers under him would truly degenerate into farmers. They might still possess a little more courage and martial prowess than ordinary farmers, but in terms of combat strength, they would likely retain not even a third of what they had now.
That was why, throughout the ages, when dynasties stationed troops along the borders, even if no enemies came to attack, wise commanders would still send their men out in rotations to strike, lest the edge of their soldiers grow dull.
Besides, even if he trained a force made up entirely of archers, with the abilities of the craftsmen under him, they could never produce enough bows and arrows for them to use.
Thus, his