Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 40 The Talented Person
"Mustache". Wiesel is not an ordinary engineer, but a gunpowder engineer of the Gun Academy.

But it would be better to say that all the engineers of the empire come from the Gunnery Academy of the Grand Earl of Nun, which is comparable to the other jewel of the empire, the wisdom center, the Academy of Magic.

Although it is called the Academy, it is actually a vast complex of workshops, anvils, and furnaces.Here, skilled gunsmiths worked day and night to create and maintain the powerful firearms that equipped the Imperial Army.

And the generals of various provinces are also constantly sending those prospective gunners to this smoky big factory to learn theoretical knowledge such as ballistics, and these gunners will be invaluable treasures of various legions in the future.

With the development of the times, they also got the opportunity to maintain the treasure of Altdorf's engineering school-the steam tank, which to some extent already has the meaning of overwhelming the host.

But even with such an excellent collection of human engineering technology, it cannot avoid the aging, damage, and other problems of firearms over time.

Wiesel has also been troubled by the responsibility required by the empire for too long to hand over the method of improving the service life of firearms.

Until he saw Roel's gun, it was just wrapped in ordinary paper. The gunpowder smell was permeating the gunpowder, and the prey was obviously killed by shooting, but the gun was fine, and even looked like new.

But what he used was not a dwarf musket, the kind of super-technical thing that could be a noble family heirloom, it was just an ordinary Rick collar musket.

Mustache quickly judged that this Bretonnian man had mastered a technology that the Imperials did not.

And now Roel just wants to get on the boat and shoot two shots, and then sell the wild goods to the empire to take advantage of him. Although he doesn't know what he saw, but in Roel's eyes, this B is really stupid.

The mustache cleared a path for Roel, and even allowed him to ride a mule onto the ship of the "Blue Eagle" mercenary regiment worshiped by the Duke Nunn and the provincial army.

In order to protect the ship from damaging the wax on the ship due to accumulated water and long-term voyages, all the soldiers are cleaning the deck frantically.

In fact, the reason why the sailors in the movie have to clean the deck almost continuously every day is because debris can easily damage the hull, and the cost of ships in ancient times was even higher than that of the sailors themselves.

Every sailor has to endure the long hours of cleaning up the ship to become a real macho.

So they were very dissatisfied with Roel who stepped into the boat on a mule and the mustache who provided him with convenience. After a while, a group of "blue eagle" mercenaries surrounded them. They rolled up their sleeves, and they might have been cleaning just now. deck.

"Wisson!" One of the older soldiers cursed directly.

"You heartless and unscrupulous fellow, how did you let Bretonnian farmers ride on mules?!"

Wiesel's complexion changed drastically. He was not worried about being scolded, but because he was afraid that Roel, the hidden master, would be angered.

Roel didn't care at all, and instead got off the mule by himself. "Sorry, I didn't pay attention, so can I put her here?"

The soldier, who had expected a violent altercation, which had been a frequent occurrence in his seafaring career, was choked up.

That's right, compared to Bretonnian peasants, you are hundreds of years behind as a mercenary!
Roel took out his musket at this moment, because after boarding the ship, the law enforcement officials in Bretonnia could not control the sea, and there was absolutely no one to control the use of guns here.

Although he usually uses it, no one will care.

When the mercenary saw the firearm, he couldn't help but his eyes lit up.

"You kid can still use a gun? In Bretonnia? This stupid, barbaric and backward place?"

Roel scratched his head. "This gentleman actually asked me to teach soldiers how to use a gun."

As soon as these words came out, the mercenaries on the ship all laughed crookedly. They are the best mercenaries in Tiris, and they are soldiers serving the Great Earl of Nun. They are no better than a Bretonnian peasant? !

But they are not the ones who just talk but don't practice, and it's time for training. They took out wooden targets and a few muskets, which are not many muskets compared to other provinces of the empire, but they are just ordinary weapons here.

This is why they are confident that they are better than most of the firearms troops in the Old World. Good gunners are trained with lead bullets!
How could peasants without logistics and the support of nobles be better than them?

Just like that, Roel stood with the most elite hunters of the empire, raising his rifle at the same time.

He didn't think too much, he just wanted to type a few times and go back to work, he was very busy.

Then, under the watchful eyes of everyone, he just filled the ammunition pack with gunpowder as soon as someone else bit off it, and he fired when someone else pressed the powder plug.

Using the training pellets and gunpowder provided by the ship, Roel just felt refreshed!
It's been a long time since I shot, now I can practice casually!
Just then, at the speed of shooting once in ten seconds, Roel's astonishing shooting ability left the elite of the empire by a block.

From the disdain at the beginning, to now the whole ship circles around Roel 365°C to watch the filling process, and then rubs his eyes in shock at its speed.

The "Blue Eagle" mercenary group has a legend of a Bretonnian sharpshooter today.

(End of this chapter)