Miguel was sitting at his desk in the center of the grand meeting hall of the mansion, with the returned miners in front of him. Ricardo, ever-present, was by his side, watching closely as the men explained their findings. The head of the miners, a sturdy-looking man with graying hair, was speaking excitedly about the state of the abandoned mine.

“Sir,” he began, “we conducted a thorough inspection, and I can assure you there is a huge amount of iron ore still there. It’s far from depleted, and with the right men and the equipment you’ve provided, we can start extracting immediately.”

Miguel, listening intently, nodded. This was good news, better than he expected. Iron was a vital resource for Drakmoor’s growth, especially with the military and industrial expansion he had initiated. The kingdom needed more weapons, more tools, and iron was essential for both.

“Great,” said Miguel, looking at the eager faces of the miners before him. “I want you to prepare immediately. We’ll begin mining as soon as possible.”

He glanced at Ricardo, who grabbed a rolled-up scroll from the table and opened it to display a map of the region. “I’ll allocate seven of the new carts for transporting the ore. They’ll be used to take the raw iron directly to the new depot we’re finishing nearby.”

Ricardo pointed to a marked location on the map, where a large brick warehouse was being built, intended to store all the extracted iron.

“As soon as the depot is nearly empty, you can return to the mine to extract more,” Miguel continued, turning back to the miners. “For now, our focus will be on ensuring the work is continuous and efficient. I want as much ore as possible to sustain our production.”

The miners agreed, exchanging excited glances among themselves, eager to return to the mine with the new resources and the chance to finally see the mining operation flow again.

Miguel stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “You may go. Organize the men and prepare everything. As soon as the carts are ready, the mining begins.”

The miners left, while Miguel and Ricardo stayed in the hall, quickly discussing the next steps. The iron ore would be crucial for the kingdom’s future.

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Miguel was sitting in his office, papers scattered across the desk. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls. He couldn’t stop thinking about Elnar’s invention, which had turned the tide of battle with its rain of explosive arrows. Though efficient, Miguel knew he could improve that idea even further. A thought crossed his mind: a rudimentary rocket, made with materials available in the feudal world, but capable of causing massive and widespread destruction, similar to the saturation systems used by ancient armies on Earth.

He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and began sketching his idea, as his mind buzzed with possibilities. A bamboo rocket, he thought, moving the pen across the paper, would be simple and functional.

He drew a long, narrow tube, marking the main body of the rocket as a 1.5-meter-long section of bamboo. “Bamboo is hollow, lightweight, and yet strong, perfect for the body of a rocket,” he whispered to himself. He would make a cut at the end of the bamboo, leaving a natural node on one end to serve as the base.

He moved on to draw the next step: the combustion chamber. At the open end of the bamboo, he would fill about 2/3 of the tube with black powder, lightly compressed to ensure it stayed firm but without blocking ignition. Miguel knew that black powder would be the ideal propellant for the rocket. He detailed how the top of the bamboo would be sealed with clay, leaving a small hole in the center for the fuse.

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As he wrote, Miguel reflected on the black powder mixture. He quickly jotted down the familiar formula: 75% saltpeter, 15% charcoal, and 10% sulfur. Finely ground and carefully mixed, this formula would be the soul of the rocket.

With the body and propulsion ready, the next step was stabilization. He sketched stabilizer fins made of thick paper or cloth. “These fins will keep the rocket in the air during flight... I hope,” he murmured, as he drew how they would be attached to the rear base of the bamboo with ropes or resin.

Now, the ignition system. The fuse, a simple cord soaked in saltpeter, would ensure enough time for the rocket to be launched without endangering the operator. He drew the fuse’s entry point into the clay cap and made notes on the necessary length to ensure safety.

Miguel then turned his attention to the launcher. He knew he would need a robust yet simple structure. “A wooden inclined platform, at a 30 to 45-degree angle,” he noted, designing a platform that would allow multiple rockets to be launched in sequence. The idea was to saturate the enemy area with a rain of projectiles, causing widespread destruction.

Next, he considered increasing the damage caused by the rockets. He sketched a compartment at the top of the rocket, where he would insert shrapnel, such as nails, metal fragments, or sharp stones. These fragments would be released upon impact, scattering across the battlefield and causing even more chaos among enemy ranks.

He leaned back, taking a moment to reflect. The rocket would be rudimentary but effective. By combining the explosive power of black powder with the simplicity of available materials, he was on the verge of creating a weapon that could change the course of the war.

With the plan drawn, Miguel knew that tests would be essential. He wrote down safety precautions, reminding himself of the inherent dangers of handling gunpowder. Every step needed to be followed with extreme care, from creation to final tests. But Miguel felt he was on the right track. He would soon possess a weapon that could tip the battlefield in Drakmoor’s favor, for this was certainly not the only weapon Miguel had in mind...

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A week had passed since Miguel had begun working on his first rocket prototype. He was now in an open field, a small clearing an hour’s ride from the city, ready to test the invention. The sky was clear, the sun shone, and a light breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees. All eyes were on what Miguel called the “rocket,” a bamboo structure with improvised stabilizer fins.

Around him were João, the young servant who always accompanied him, Lila, the young mage, and John, the defense secretary, who watched cautiously. Ricardo, ever at Miguel’s side, maintained a look of curiosity, while Ruidahr, the imposing lion, observed with his axe in hand. The deer Elnar, who had helped invent some weapons, stood beside Miguel, eager to see the result.

“Let’s do this,” Miguel said with a tone of confidence that concealed his internal tension. He lit the fuse and quickly stepped back, everyone retreating a few steps, watching closely. The rocket began to emit a hissing sound, slowly rising into the air. For a moment, it seemed everything was going as planned. The stabilizer fins kept the rocket on a straight path. However, suddenly, something went wrong. The rocket began to lose height and, before reaching its target, fell in the middle of the field, inert.

Silence dominated the scene. “Damn it,” Miguel muttered, frustrated. João, ever curious, hesitantly asked, “What happened, sir?”

“Problem with the fins,” Miguel replied. “They’re not stabilizing the rocket enough.”

Ruidahr, observing the scene, grunted, “Interesting...”

Elnar nodded, murmuring to himself, already thinking of possible solutions.

A few days passed, and Miguel, tireless, began making adjustments to the prototype. He worked on the fins, reinforcing the structure with new materials he had gathered nearby. The second test was ready. Everyone gathered again in the same field, waiting for the new result. This time, Miguel seemed more cautious. He lit the fuse, and once again everyone stepped back.

This time, the rocket shot up forcefully, cutting through the air more effectively. The fins worked better, and it seemed that Miguel had finally gotten it right. But when the rocket hit the ground, it simply didn’t explode. It lay there, motionless, as if all the effort had been in vain.

Lila, who had approached curiously, asked, “It was supposed to explode, right?”

“Yes,” Miguel replied, squinting at the object. “The detonator didn’t activate. Something didn’t work as it should have.”

Ricardo let out a light laugh but quickly realized Miguel was frustrated. “You’re almost there,” Ricardo said, trying to encourage the king. “That’s what these tests are for.”

Miguel simply nodded. He knew he was close, but the error bothered him. Elnar approached and placed a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “Don’t give up, young king.”

A few more days of adjustments passed, and Miguel was finally ready for the third test. This time, he had more confidence in the rocket, after reviewing every detail countless times. The test field was once again filled with spectators. João was especially eager, and Lila couldn’t hide her curiosity, while John maintained his sharp and worried gaze.

Miguel lit the fuse and quickly stepped back. Everyone watched the rocket intently. This time, the hiss was strong, and the rocket shot up with speed, higher and faster than the previous ones. It cut through the air, flying in a straight line, its stabilizer fins working perfectly. When the rocket hit the ground, a sudden explosion lit up the field. The ground trembled beneath everyone’s feet, and shards of shrapnel flew through the air.