Bab 28: Fierce Scar
Editor: Meh
But when Roland operated it himself, he realized the actual situation was not as simple as he had expected.
After slogging in the backyard for four or five days, the harder drill bits were completed successfully though. With the use of Anna's flame at a high temperature, he could easily get molten iron at over 1,500 Celsius degrees. Without any temperature constraint, he could quickly and easily produce small quantities of steel with the conventional wrought-steel method. By stirring the molten iron with an iron bar, the excessive carbon and other impurities in the pig iron would oxidize in the air, and after repeating the operation several times, the premium steel appeared as the molten iron cooled down.
The problem lay in the first steam engine.
When this primitive machine was working, it created loud noise and high-frequency vibration. As a result, the drill could not stably finish drilling the entire solid iron. In rough labor, this degree of tremor did not matter, but this clearly would not work with the processing of the barrel.
To improve this situation, he had to create a centrifugal governor to control the output power of the steam engine, and then use the gear assembly to reduce the vibration, and adjust the bit rotation rate. Plus, the machining gears required a simple lathe. By the look of things, Roland found himself unable to achieve his goal before the arrival of the Months of Demons.
Eventually, he could only apply the old method of asking the blacksmiths to gradually hammer it out. The plan to mass produce flintlocks did not succeed. According to the number of blacksmith shops in Border Town, a maximum of three to four barrels could be produced monthly, which should be on the condition that the production of the second steam engine was stopped.
The only consolation was that there was no need to worry about the pass rate of the barrel. The blacksmith just needed to beat the approximate shape of round tubes. Anna would do the pipe linking. The effect was close to the seamless tube cut out by the boring tool, and basically eliminated the risk of the gun-barrel explosion.
Roland had no choice but to revise his previous plan. He had intended to recruit hunters from Border Town to set up a Flintlock Squad—they were mostly proficient in archery and both the bow and crossbow were their handy weapons. Plus a firearm training was not time-consuming, so they could be ready for combat very soon.
But from now up till the Months of Demons, only four flintlock guns could be made. In this way, only the most outstanding of the hunters could form an elite team. Roland decided to entrust this matter to Iron Axe to carry out. He had stayed in Border Town for 15 years, and was also generally recognized as the best hunter.
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Brian was unhappy this past half month.
Especially when he met the militia team in the street, his unhappiness doubled... He even could not reconcile himself to what had happened.
He felt that he had been forgotten by His Highness.
A month ago when he was summoned by the chief knight, he was full of excitement. Being in close contact with Prince Roland and questioned by His Highness himself was a very fortunate and glorious matter.
He was born in an ordinary hunting family and grew up in Border Town. By virtue of his own abilities, he became Patrol Leader. He knew he could not rely on his background to become a knight, but could only wait for the opportunity to make a merit, and accept the conferral by the authorities.
His Highness' inquiry made him sense the opportunity had come. Apparently Prince Roland did not want to give up his domain and was trying to find ways to fight the demonic beasts. Later on, the massive construction of the city wall proved without a doubt that this year they would be spending the Months of Demons in Border Town.
If His Highness wanted to prevent the invasion of demonic beasts here, he had to set up a platoon brave enough for a face-to-face combat. Brian thought he himself was the best choice for the role, as he was proficient in investigation, swordsmanship and equestrian skill. Every year, he would remain till the time for the garrison duty to ignite the beacon-fire to prove his courage. But he never expected that His Highness would plan to choose a platoon from the populace to fight with the demonic beasts!
Yes, it was a platoon of civilians. Furthermore, the whole patrol team of ten people, including him, did not pass the review by the chief knight. This was simply incredible. Did His Highness felt that these civilians who had never held swords would be better than him in battle? It was more likely they would disperse once they saw the fiendish faces of the demonic beasts.
But His Highness seemed to be serious... He was not only training this group of mobs but also gave them uniforms. Every afternoon, Brian could see this group of people wearing brown and gray leather armor, filed in two lines running on the streets. At the beginning, the platoon was messy, but recently it became much neater.
But every day, he could only carry out boring tasks, without any hope of promotion.
At night, while he was tossing and turning, there was a loud noise next door. The door was pushed open, and someone came in quietly.
"Hey, get up! All of you," he whispered. Brian recognized his voice; he was a member of the patrol team and nicknamed Fierce Scar.
There were five people in his room. Other than Greyhound and himself, the other three quickly got up, as if they had already been preparing for this as they slept with their coats on.
"Captain, get up quickly. I have something important to tell you."
Fierce Scar had a noble relative in Longsong Stronghold, who was said to be a great noble. Hence his position was very high in the team. Brian could not ignore him, so he got up and asked, "What happened?"
Greyhound was also awakened. "It, it's so late, don’t you guys... go to bed?"
"I have a good job for you, do you want to be conferred as a knight?"
"Wh-What? Knight?" Greyhound exclaimed.
Brian's heart skipped a beat and quickly asked, "What's the job exactly?"
"You all know my uncle Hirte. He's the earl conferred by the duke, and also the duke's confidant. He personally told me this." Fierce Scar lowered his voice. "Prince Roland is ready to cast off Longsong Stronghold and this has displeased the duke greatly. The duke has decided to let the prince know that only he is the master of the Western Region."
"D-D-Don't tell me... you intend to, to assassinate..." Greyhound stuttered once he got nervous, and could not complete his sentences.
"How could it be," Fierce Scar said, tittering. "He is a prince after all. If he's dead, even the duke cannot protect us. As I said, it's a good job."
Brian subconsciously felt that the deal was not as simple as he claimed. But the temptation of being a knight was so great that he could not help but reply, "Tell me more."
"Grain. If there's no food, he'll have no choice but come back to Longsong Stronghold. The duke promised that as long as we can successfully burn the grain bought by Prince Roland, he'll make us knights. And even give us a piece of land in the eastern Longsong Stronghold. It's a golden opportunity. Captain, what do you think of it?"
"You, you're crazy. His, His Highness has already said, this y-year, the Months of Demons is likely to last f-for more than four months. If you b-burn the grain, what will we eat!" Greyhound shook his head repeatedly. "Have we a-all forgotten what happened two, two years ago?"
"What does that have to do with us?" The other man remarked with disdain. "Anyway, I didn't intend to stay here. After finishing Duke Ryan's task, I'll be able to live a good life in Longsong Stronghold."
"That's right. Do you want to stay in this dump and eat furnace slag forever?" The others echoed the view.
"Damn, they were in cahoots." Brian's heart sank. Only Greyhound and him grew up in Border Town, the rest came from all parts of the country and did not have any special feelings towards the town. Sensing it pointless to stop them, he changed the subject. "But the wheat has already been transferred to His Highness' castle. With the entrance guarded by personal knights, how could you enter it?"
"That's why I've asked you to join," Fierce Scar laughed confidently, "You've stayed in this dump since you were young, so no one knows this environment better than you. I remember you once said the well at the back mountain, was connected to the waterway at the bottom of the castle. Through it, you can quietly access the castle garden. You even crawled through it when you were a child. So if you join me, you can become a knight in the future—and even personally conferred by the Duke."
No... Knights should be courageous and fight unfairness. They should not be afraid of powers of coercion, but should protect the weak! Just for the sake of the duke's personal grudges, why should we expose the town residents to the threat of hunger and death? Such a knight is just an empty shell, without any glory at all!
As he was about to refuse, Greyhound shouted.
"A, a group of madmen! You, you, actually dare to mess with the grain. I'll never let you leave h-here! I want to r-report to..." Greyhound was in mid-speech when the sound solidified. He turned around in disbelief, as a former teammate stood behind him, sneering. A black dagger thrust into his back and entered the body completely. He trembled twice, opened his mouth trying to say something, but could only utter a hoarse breathing sound.
The attacker swiftly moved the dagger twice, and then violently pulled it back. Greyhound suddenly lost the support like a lifeless doll, and collapsed softly to the ground.
"And so?" Fierce Scar came close to Brian, who could even feel the stench of his mouth. "I think you have decided. Right, Captain?"
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