Iron Powder and Spellcasters

Chapter 271: bar iron

  Chapter 271 Iron

   A piece of iron lay quietly in the dark warehouse, it had no thoughts. But if it had, it must have expected to live its life as something.

Is    the plough that clears the land?

   Or a sickle to harvest crops?

   The door opened, light came in, and the bar iron was taken out of the warehouse by the craftsman.

   It was thrown into the hearth and buried under the hot charcoal. The bellows whistled, and the flames burned the iron body.

  I don't know how long I have endured, and the iron finally escaped from hell. Immediately, it was clamped by the craftsman on the hydraulic forging machine and beaten repeatedly.

   Soon, the iron bar disappeared, and what was left was an iron cone with a long forearm, two pointed ends, and a middle section about the size of a human hand.

  The iron cone was thrown by the blacksmith at the feet of the apprentices as soon as it was formed. Before the apprentices could make the next move, the craftsman had already gone to fetch another piece of iron.

The   iron cone was taken over by the apprentice, and it still contained an amazing amount of heat inside.

   Its surface was soaped by apprentices: yellow in color, put back in the forge; white in color, buried in hot sand to cool down.

  The iron cone was adjusted repeatedly until the color was between gold and silver, and the apprentice just threw it into the cylinder;

  The hot iron cone touched the cold oil and suddenly made a "呲呲" sound.

   In the blink of an eye, it faded from bright yellow to blood red, and was pulled out of the oil tank by the apprentices and hung in the air;

The color of the   iron cone continued to fade, the blood red faded, and the violet appeared little by little.

   It is again submerged in oil and cooled slowly.

  While the apprentices were doing this kind of work, a man with a big belly wiped his sweat, puffed out his stomach and stared at the apprentices, scolding and correcting mistakes.

  Quenching and tempering have always been the secrets of famous craftsmen. The timing of cutting materials depends on eyesight, experience and secrets.

   If there is a craftsman willing to teach the apprentice these two crafts, either he is drunk, or the apprentice is his illegitimate child.

   Throughout Tiefeng County, the one who is best at these two skills is none other than Shaosha, a swordsman and city councilor.

   Now, Shaosha has the ability to press the bottom of the box. Although the apprentices were scolded next to each other, their hearts were full of joy.

   Just learning to recognize the three colors of steel is enough for them to benefit for a lifetime.

The   iron cone is quenched and tempered, and continues to be passed on to the apprentices who are just getting started.

   In the highly-ranked blacksmith guild, young apprentices are not qualified to learn more advanced skills, they can only grind iron honestly.

  The pedal grinding wheel is spinning rapidly, sparks are scattered, and the iron cone is sharpened.

  Swords are seldom edged with a grinding wheel, because the blade will be damaged if one is not careful. However, I don't have time to do fine work now, so it's natural to do it as soon as possible.

  The iron cone, which had been burned, forged, quenched, tempered and sharpened, was sent to the town hall, where the carpenter was waiting.

   The next thing is simple: the iron cone is smashed into a thick wooden stick, one end is deeply buried in the wood, and the other end has a sharp point exposed.

  It was hastily secured with nails and ropes by carpenters, before being sent to the town square to join its fellow brothers.

   This moment iron understands its destiny and is a weapon.

  …

   The fire was red and the hammer was roaring. The Forge Township was like a fierce horse being beaten by its driver, and it had already started with all its strength.

  No one makes plows and sickles anymore, both craftsmen and apprentices are building weapons like crazy.

   Swords are too time-consuming, axes and halberds are too waste. Killing things, the simpler the better.

The    thorn mallet became the obvious choice. For no other reason, it is easy to make.

   As the name suggests - a mallet with stabbing ability.

   You don't need good steel, and you don't need good wood. An iron cone and a wooden stick for agricultural implements are fixed together to form a thorn mallet. Not as good as a spear, at least stronger than a sharpened wooden pole.

The    thorn mallet itself is one of the simplest weapons.

  The thorn mallet made by the Forge Township is also the most primitive in the thorn mallet family, no one.

  Using thick wooden sticks sacrifices weight and flexibility in exchange for structural strength; the iron cone is too late to be firmly fixed, which is equivalent to exchanging structural strength for time.

  There must be some people in Tiefeng County who don't believe that "the barbarians are going to be killed", but the blacksmiths are sure.

   If it weren't for the urgent need, how could the tribune of Montagne order such shoddy weapons?

   In such a pressing and suffocating situation, no one would care about the ownership of a forge changing hands - except for the Great Goncharov.

  Dagoncha didn't know what was going on.

   Anyway, little Vinicius went to Gervodin, and when he came back, the formalities were smooth.

   Silently, the forge of the Vinicius family has been traded to Shaosha, and the publicity, voting and other processes are all simplified.

   Dagangcha suffered a loss. After all, the nominal leader of the Blacksmiths Guild was Mr. Shaosha.

   As for Shaosha's back? Dagoncha can guess who it is with his knees.

   At this very moment, the man was standing in front of him.

   "Lord Tribune." Dagangcha carefully accompanied his smiling face: "Three hundred thorn mallets and six hundred iron cones have been loaded into the truck."

   "Not bad." The military tribunal nodded.

  The young military tribunal is dressed in military uniform, holds a whip in his hand, and wears a long sword on his waist. For some reason, Dagoncha felt a little breathless.

   "Thank you for your compliment, I really don't dare to take it...I don't dare to take it."

"Five of the seven forge masters ran away. They all took their families to hide in Gervodin, and only you three brothers and Mr. Vinicius Jr. are willing to stay." The military tribunal showed a smile: " You are really good, and I hope I can use you in the future."

  Dagoncha's forehead was sweating coldly, and his spine was cold. He didn't take it easy until he got very far.

   On the square of Forge Township, a convoy was ready to go, and the troop in charge of escorting was Tamas' first company.

"You don't have to save horsepower. The sooner you send it to Lieutenant Budd, the better. Tell Lieutenant Budd that this is the first batch, and it will continue to be sent in the future." Winters told Tamas: "After arriving at the place, The horses that pulled the carts were left there. Bring back the horses scattered to the farms."

   "Yes!" Tamas saluted heavily.

   Winters helped the first company commander to hold the helmet and sighed: "Don't embarrass me again."

  Tamas was so aggrieved that his nose was sore, he saluted again: "Yes!"

  …

   Just this afternoon, the company commander was severely criticized by Winters in public.

  If it wasn't for the new organization, it would be inconvenient to change the sequence at will, the first company commander Tamas is now the 12th company commander Tamas.

   Because Winters personally inspected and found that the rations of the companies were in a mess.

  Especially a short soldier in the company brought a loaf of bread, 108,000 miles away from the standard deviation of "two weeks".

   The lightly fermented dough is baked twice, which is light and does not take up space, and is the military ration. A fluffy food like bread is not even a dry food.

   Winters does not clean up the soldiers, he cleans up the company commander, especially the first company commander.

  According to the Legion tradition, the order of each company is closely related to the combat power. The fighting strength of the company is the strongest, so he is the first company.

   As soon as the results were checked, the preparations of the 1st Company were the worst.

   On the contrary, the second company commander, Bart Xialing, did a very good job.

  Each company carried an average of three and a half weeks of dry food, and there was no such thing as "some soldiers have more and some soldiers have less", which is very commendable.

   Winters took out a gold cross on the spot and hung it on the flag of the Second Company.

  [Note: Andre's one and Winters' two have been melted down]

  …

   "Okay." Winters waved his hand: "Let's go."

  Tamas got on his horse, raised his hand to salute again, and drove away.

   Winters watched the wagons drive out of Forge until the motorcade disappeared behind the night.

   He couldn't allocate troops to Bud, not even a single one.

  Tiebong County is bounded by the river. If there are plenty of troops or a fleet, then the best strategy is obviously to defend against the river.

   Yet he had neither soldiers nor fleets.

   He had to clench his fingers and punch the burner's nose hard. Even the disparity in the strength of a ten-man team may affect the success or failure of this punch.

   So he can't divide his troops to Bard, Bard and the exile camp can only rely on themselves.

   A one-armed middle-aged soldier stood behind Winters and watched all this silently.

   The one-armed soldier asked softly: "Without a single soldier, can Lieutenant Bud really do it?"

   "You can do it, you can do it if you don't." Winters was silent for a long time: "I trust Bud, and he trusts me."

  The wind was blowing gently, bringing back the muffled sound of the forging hammer in the distance.

   "The last time I saw this level of trust." The one-armed soldier's mouth showed a smile of reminiscence: "It's still between a hammer and a shield."

  Winters laughed loudly and took the one-armed soldier's arm: "Okay. Sir, don't curse us. Let's go back to Revodan, Mrs. Mitchell will entertain you tonight, forget?"

   "I really don't want to go. I'm scared to see that lady."

   "There are other women who can make you afraid?"

   "At least there is one right now."

  …

  …

   Colonel Bode has been back in Parato for three days.

  According to the customs of the Paratus people, for such happy events as Colonel Bode's freedom and his return to his homeland, it is necessary to invite relatives and friends to hold a banquet to celebrate, in order to make a clean break with the bad luck of the past.

  Although the current situation is special, Winters still wants to take care of the Colonel.

  Thinking about it, I can only ask Mrs. Mitchell to help.

   Winters was very ashamed of Mrs. Mitchell, Gillard's life was uncertain, he sent Pierre on the most dangerous mission, and he also used Mrs. Mitchell.

   Mrs. Mitchell never showed him the slightest reproach, making Winters all the more guilty.

   So in the end, it was Anna who asked Mrs. Mitchell for help.

   And Ellen Mitchell readily agreed, so there was this "family dinner".

   Mrs. Ellen Mitchell was the host and Colonel Bode Gates was the guest of honor.

  The male guests were Winters, Mason and Father Kaman.

  Andre was not there. Like Don Juan, he had led the scout into the wasteland; Lieutenant Colonel Moritz avoided Colonel Bode and did not come to the banquet.

  The ladies were Anna and Katherine, and Scarlett was not there.

  Because Scarlett had cut her hair on her own initiative, Mrs. Mitchell would not allow her to come to the table.

   just happened to meet the little wild cat's intention. At this moment, Scarlett was hiding in the kitchen and eating wantonly, and no dish could escape her "poisonous hands" - Ellen obviously did not expect this.

   There were only six guests, and Ellen chose a two-meter-long dining table, which was neither alien nor crowded.

   Ellen also opened two bottles of wine brought from Wolf Town. In today's Gervodin, wine is a rare commodity.

   The guest of honor toasted and chatted. Everyone deliberately did not talk about war, politics and the Heard people. The atmosphere was pleasant and intimate.

   Colonel Bird's witty little stories one after another, and the laughter at the dinner table never stopped.

   Of the three men here, who is better at marching and fighting is controversial.

   But when it comes to pleasing women, tying Winters, Bud, Andre, Mason, Don Juan and Moritz together is not enough for Bode Gates to fight alone.

  Although the calamity of the wasteland almost tortured the Colonel into a little old man, it failed to kill his sense of humor.

   After chatting and chatting, it was the turn of dessert.

  One host and six guests, should be seven dim sum, but only six served.

   Ellen handed it to the others quietly, but she didn't take it herself: "Speaking of snacks, the flour in the city these two days is one price for a while."

   Winters' attention suddenly focused: "The price of flour has gone up?"

   "Yes, those poor believers can't even drink batter." Father Kaman asked coldly: "Is this matter your responsibility?"

  Colonel Bode stopped telling jokes, he sipped his snacks silently, as if he was invisible at the dinner table.

   "This... I'll go check it out." Winters sternly thanked Mrs. Mitchell and Carman: "Thank you for the reminder."

  Kaman sneered and stopped looking at Winters.

"Is this still worth checking?" Senior Mason, who has a poor drinker's drinker, said vaguely, "I heard that the barbarians of Heard are going to be killed. All the nearby villages and towns that have some family property will all come to Gévordan! There is a city wall! Can the price of flour be raised? What do you think? Can it be raised?

  The price will continue to rise. On the day when the barbarian's horseshoe stepped into Tiefeng County, more people would flee to Revodan. "

   "Then you just watch?" Father Kaman asked with a frown.

   "Then what to do? Limit the price? The price will go even higher! Limit the purchase? Everyone will rush to buy it!"

The senior sucked his nose, fiddled with the wine glass, and pushed back unceremoniously: "If you want to completely solve the problem, you have to open a warehouse to sell grain! But do we have any grain? We don't have any extra grain! We still have to take food to fight the Hurds! You push us, do you know our difficulties? Father Kaman!"

  Senior is not only a poor drinker, but his wine taste is not that good... At least Mason at this moment is by no means a suave senior.

  Kaman was too choked to speak, and the priest didn't want to argue with the drunk.

   And Colonel Bode has already finished the snack.

   "I will discuss a solution with Mayor Priskin." Winters smiled to reassure Kaman and the senior: "There will always be a solution, don't worry."

   Seeing that Senior Mason was already six points drunk, Winters was moved and asked the senior: "How is your ranch now?"

   "Which one?" The senior was a little dull.

   "It was the first time I visited yours."

   Winters didn't mention it, but he mentioned the sad thing that happened to poke the middle school principal.

   Drinking energy, depression, and emotions were infected by the atmosphere of the banquet. Senior Mason actually cried directly, and the atmosphere suddenly became subtle.

   Did you use too much force? Winters was also a little alarmed.

   Winters felt someone kick him under the table, and he looked up to meet Anna's bright smile.

   Something is wrong!

   Winters scratched Anna's ankle expressionlessly.

   Madam Navarre's hand was unstable and she almost spilled half a glass of wine.

  Catherine narrowed her eyes and looked at the two suspiciously.

   Immediately afterwards, Winters was kicked harder in the shin.

   Enduring the severe pain, Winters took the senior's shoulders and comforted him: "I just wanted to ask, how are the breeding pigs you bred?"

   "It's gone, didn't I tell you?" The senior wiped his nose.

Of course    Winters knew, because of the testimony of the victim Don Juan. Last time, the senior was drunk and crazy, and dragged Hu An to talk about breeding stock selection all night.

   "It doesn't matter if it's gone, it can be cultivated again." Winters guided the senior.

"Oh, it's different." The senior said drunkenly: "The fastest way to improve breeds is to use male animals, and the most direct effect is female animals. I have both male animals and female animals. No... Ronald... Raising pigs and eating meat is no problem, but how can there be slaughtering pigs and eating meat? I hate..."

   Winters nodded as he listened.

  Anna was a little annoyed, what about sows and boars at the dinner party? She had clearly signaled Winters not to continue this topic, but the bad things seemed to be inaudible and invisible, and continued to lead Mr. Mason to speak.

  Anna suddenly heard her sister speak: "Can't you buy seeds from outside?"

Some ladies were interested in this topic. Senior Mason was more talkative. He cheered up and explained: "Most pigs are kept in one family, and they lack the awareness and conditions for breeding. If you raise a lot in one go, you will have more opportunities. Choose the best from them.”

   Katherine smiled and asked curiously, "Can't you raise a lot more?"

  Little Navarre was in some ways far sharper than her older sister. For example... Mr. M is clearly trying to induce Mr. Mason to talk about something.

   "Restoring the size of the herd...it will take many years." The senior became more and more melancholy and sad: "It takes time to conceive, and it takes time for the cub to grow up, alas."

   "What about breeding?" Winters asked.

   [Thanks to book lovers for their collection, reading, subscription, recommendation tickets, monthly tickets, rewards and comments, thank you all]

   [In fact, Winters is also a piece of iron]

  

  

   (end of this chapter)

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