Nanotechnology: The Last Prince Of Wales

Oswald was the sole provider for his family, his burden heavier than most. Each day he cared for his lame mother and younger sister, their survival resting on his shoulders. He was among those who passed the grueling fitness tests for Ethan's army. He grabbed a crusty loaf of bread, tore a piece, and stuffed it into his mouth. He scruffed his sister's hair with a tired smile, and his mother, frail but hopeful, wished him good luck.

As he stepped outside their modest home, the air was cool and crisp, his stomach knotted. Two men loitered near the house, their presence like a dark shadow over the day. Oswald recognized them instantly—the Bone Breakers, notorious gangsters of Bala, who had their grip on the town like a vice. One of them, a tall man with a scar in his forehead was casually peeling an apple with a wickedly sharp knife. The other stood, arms crossed, watching Oswald with a predatory gaze.

As Oswald passed, the knife-wielder smirked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Go make that coin, boy. Your family depends on it."

Oswald clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He kept his gaze forward, his heart pounding as he forced himself to walk on. The Bone Breakers had terrorized his family since his father abandoned them, fleeing from the debts he owed. Now, the weight of those debts hung over Oswald like a dark cloud.

He made his way south, toward the woodlands, where Ethan's recruits were gathering. The path was familiar, the trees a comforting canopy above him, but the tension from the encounter lingered. Reaching the clearing, Oswald saw a group of men milling about—120 strong, all of them having passed the tests, ready to serve. The air was thick with anticipation.

Oswald joined the waiting men, exchanging nods with a few familiar faces. A lanky recruit with a toothpick tucked in the corner of his mouth leaned against a tree, observing the scene with a lazy grin.

"The lord's not here yet," Oswald remarked, glancing around.

The recruit chuckled, "His servants are still wiping his arse, I bet." He twirled the toothpick between his teeth. "He's the same age as us, you know. And he's a lord. Envy the bastard, I do."

Oswald couldn't help but chuckle, though his mind was far from envy. The Welsh are losing the rebellion, he thought grimly. What's there to envy? He has a price on his head, like his family.

A sudden commotion stirred the crowd as a carriage arrived. The soldiers straightened, Callwen among them. The talking recruit fell silent as Ethan stepped down from the carriage, flanked by Beca and Tarwyn. Ethan's presence commanded attention, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes sweeping over the gathered men.

"My lord, we've been waiting," Callwen said, his voice steady.

Ethan nodded, his gaze sharp. "Are they all here?"

"120 men," Callwen confirmed.

Ethan walked among them, his steps measured, his expression thoughtful. "All of you have passed the tests and are now part of my army," he began, his voice calm but firm. "I know you fight for yourselves—for better pay, for a chance to escape your pasts. Some of you have left your livelihoods behind for this."

His words hung in the air, each man absorbing the weight of their commitment. Ethan paused, signaling to Tarwyn, who opened a box revealing five sleek air rifles. The recruits murmured, their curiosity piqued.

Tarwyn lifted a rifle, studying it with a mix of confusion and awe. Weapons... he thought, perplexed. Where did he get these? He's been acting strange since we got here from Harlech...

One recruit, thin-eyed with crooked teeth, stepped forward, his tone mocking. "Where are the real weapons, my lord? We stand here like naked warriors. Are those the toys we'll use?"

A few men chuckled nervously, but Ethan's smirk was cold. "Care for a challenge, then?"

The man exchanged a glance with his friend, chuckling. "Why not?"

Ethan turned to Tarwyn. "Give him your sword."

Tarwyn grunted, unbuckling his blade and tossing it to the recruit, who caught it with a grin. He inspected the fine steel, testing its weight. "Nice blade," he remarked. "Don't worry, little lord. I'll just leave a small cut."

A circle formed, the men eager for a spectacle. Callwen's voice cut through the murmurs. "Begin."

The recruit readied himself, the sword gleaming in his hand. Ethan, calm and composed, raised the rifle, aiming steadily. The recruit scoffed, his confidence unshaken. "Come on, then! Afraid?"

Ethan pulled the trigger.

The sharp crack of the shot echoed through the clearing. The recruit dropped to the ground, a hole through his head, blood pooling beneath him. Silence fell, the other recruits frozen in shock, eyes wide with disbelief.

Ethan lowered the rifle, his expression unflinching. "This," he said, his voice cutting through the stillness, "is your new weapon."

The men exchanged shocked glances, the weight of the moment sinking in. Ethan's gaze swept over them, each man feeling the gravity of their new reality.

Ethan stood over the fallen man, the rifle still in his hand, its power reverberating in the stunned silence. He turned to the gathered men, his voice rising to fill the clearing.

"With these weapons," he declared, holding the rifle aloft, "we will take what is ours. We will protect our people. No longer will we be outmatched by those who seek to crush us. This is the tool that will ensure our victory."

The men roared in response, the fire of hope and determination rekindled in their hearts. Ethan let the sound wash over him, then raised a hand for silence.

"You will be trained in the use of Dragons Breath," he continued. "Each of you will master the skills needed to wield it. Here we will establish a camp where you will live, train, and prepare for the battles ahead."

Oswald stepped forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "Will we each have the Dragon's Breath, my lord?"

Ethan nodded, his eyes meeting Oswald's. "Once the camp is complete and your training is sufficient, every man here will be armed with it. You will become an elite force, capable of facing any threat."

Throughout the day, Ethan worked with the recruits, explaining the structure and function of their new military force.

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Command Structure

At the top, Ethan would serve as the Commander-in-Chief, overseeing strategy, resource allocation, and making high-level decisions. His vision was clear: to build a force that was small in number but mighty in impact.

To assist him, a Captain would act as the Second-in-Command, managing day-to-day operations, overseeing training, and ensuring that Ethan's strategies were implemented efficiently. This role was crucial to maintaining the cohesion and effectiveness of the army.

Units and Roles

The force would be divided into specific units, each with a clear role:

1. Infantry Squads: The backbone of the army, comprising 10 squads of 10 riflemen each. These squads would be the primary combat force, trained in marksmanship, skirmishing tactics, and defensive maneuvers.

2. Sharpshooters: Two squads of 5 marksmen would specialize in long-range engagements, targeting key enemies or officers. Their precision would be a critical asset in turning the tide of battles.

3. Support Squad: A single squad of 10 men would handle logistics, ammunition supply, and medical support. Their role was vital to ensuring the riflemen had the necessary supplies and care during and after combat.

Training and Tactics

Training would be rigorous, focusing on:

Drill and Marksmanship: Regular practice in rifle handling, shooting accuracy, and quick reload techniques. Each man would become proficient in maintaining and using his rifle under pressure.

Defensive Fortifications: Establishing strong defensive positions, such as barricades and lookout points, to maximize the effectiveness of their smaller force.

Logistics and Support

The Support Squad would ensure a steady supply of ammunition and basic medical care, minimizing casualties and keeping the force battle-ready.

Discipline and Morale

A strict Code of Conduct would be enforced to maintain order and loyalty. Incentives such as rewards for bravery and successful missions would keep morale high and the troops motivated.