Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 264 Forge
There are seven forging furnaces in Duanlu Township, and this has remained unchanged for more than 20 years.

The "seven forging furnaces" not only refer to seven real forging furnaces in the literal sense, but also represent seven workshops.

Since [Poltan Mejri] moved the furnace to Zhevodan twenty years ago, [Peter Goncharov] has become the richest man in the forge town.

Old Goncharov had three sons who grew up to be adults, all of whom were good at working, and Old Goncharov was also very good at accumulating wealth.

The father and his three sons worked together to make the workshop a thriving success.

Ten years ago, old Goncharov spared no expense to invite craftsmen from Steelburg to create the first water-powered forging hammer in Forging Village.

From then on, the sounds of "bang bang" never stopped in his workshop, and no other workshop could compare to his.

Old Goncharov passed away peacefully in his sleep two years ago, and the forge is currently managed by his eldest son.

Besides the three brothers, the Goncharov family also had nine assistants and apprentices, making it the recognized number one workshop in the forging village.

The smallest workshop in Forgetown is the [Vinicius] family's.

In his youth, Paul Vinicius was also a top-notch blacksmith, even more skilled than Portin.

Back in the day, it was Boltan, Vinicius, and Goncharov who worked together to build the first smelting furnace.

Later, Portan moved the furnace to Gevordan, and Paul Vinicius began to drink heavily.

Old Vinicius's body was ruined by drinking, and his spirit crumbled along with it. He died five years ago, and everyone said he died from drinking.

Now, only young Vinicius and two underage apprentices remain in Vinicius's family, barely managing to keep the workshop afloat.

……

Upon learning of the arrival of the three tribunes in Forge Village, the owners of the seven workshops rushed to the town hall to greet them. This included the three Goncharov brothers and young Vinicius.

The workshop owners were surprised to find that Mr. Bolton had also come.

It has been almost ten years since anyone has seen old Bolton. Many people say he is dead, but no one has attended his funeral.

The three Goncharov brothers, Vinicius Jr., and other new generation "forge masters" all came to greet old Boltan.

Bolton was old, and so were his companions; they were all too old to work anymore.

Some people pass their forges on to their sons or sons-in-law, while others sell their forges.

The owners of the forge have all been replaced, and now it's all managed by the second or even third generation.

Winters stayed by the side of the old blacksmith Boltan, carefully observing the various workshop owners, especially the three Goncharov brothers.

The seven workshop owners in Forging Village all belong to one [trade guild], the Iron Peak County Blacksmith Guild.

Not only them, but also other blacksmiths from lower-level villages and towns—such as Old Misha, the blacksmith from Wolf Town—were members of this guild.

The first head of the blacksmiths' guild was naturally Old Boltan, and the current nominal head is Shaosha.

However, Shaosha did not have the same prestige as his father-in-law, and his forge was not located in the forge village, so the blacksmiths in the forge village all followed the lead of the Goncharov family.

Winters calmly observed the three Goncharov brothers: the second and third brothers seemed to be impatient, while the eldest brother was very steady.

As for Vinicius Jr.... he looked tired, with slumped shoulders and back, and didn't talk much, so he didn't make a strong impression on Winters.

Winters had no important business in Forgetown; he just stopped by for a quick look.

After all, Forge Township was the only place in the county that could manufacture large ironware, so he was quite curious.

He also planned to visit the nearby Juntun Village to check on the autumn planting progress.

"Your Excellency, how is your furnace progressing?" Ooka Tsatsu greeted the magistrate with a fawning smile.

Goncharov's eldest son was tall and strong, but his eyes were a little small, and they disappeared when he smiled.

Upon hearing Ooka's question, the other workshop owners all pricked up their ears, waiting for an answer.

“I predict it will fail,” Winters chuckled.

The atmosphere turned cold immediately after these words were spoken.

Winters, however, said in a relaxed tone: "It's not a big problem, we can try again."

Ooka said ingratiatingly, "My father always said that the more you fail, the closer you are to success. Cheaper iron is great news for us blacksmiths. We're all waiting for your good news."

"Thank you for your kind words." Winters smiled modestly.

The workshop owners all smiled along, and the small town hall was filled with laughter.

Andrei stood beside Winters and let out a cold snort.

The relationship between the workshop owners' group in Duanlu Township and the new regime can be summarized in two words: outwardly warm but inwardly cold, and conducted in a purely official manner.

For Duanlu Township, which only has two villages under its jurisdiction, seven forging furnaces are obviously too many.

Therefore, the ironware produced in Duanlu Township had to be consumed by other villages and towns, and Duanlu Township mainly produced large ironware that was inconvenient for small blacksmith shops to make.

The village of Forge wants to sell ironware, and Winters wants to buy ironware;
Forgetown feared the "rebels" would kill them, and Winters didn't want to see the "forge" go out of business.

This led to a tacit understanding between the two sides to "keep to themselves" and not interfere with each other.

After a brief chat, Winters suggested that he wanted to visit the various workshops.

Although Ooka was reluctant, he readily agreed. Since he agreed, none of the other workshop owners objected.

Blacksmith workshops are all pretty much the same; even the largest Goncharov workshop and the small shop in Old Misha in Wolf Town are not fundamentally different—both are men with taut faces working around scorching metal.

The workshop contained only a few things: a forge, an anvil, templates, and various specialized small tools.

The only interesting thing was the water-powered forging hammer.

Since Lao Gangcha spent a lot of money to invite steel forge craftsmen to create the first water-powered forging hammer ten years ago, water-powered forging hammers have sprung up all over the forging furnace township.

Because the principle and mechanical structure of this thing are not complicated, you can understand it at a glance.

The biggest problem is cost; construction and maintenance both cost money, which is not feasible for a small one-person shop like Old Misha's in Wolf Town.

Before even entering the town, Winters saw the waterwheels along the riverbank, which is why he asked to visit the workshops.

"Sir, please look. This is a forging hammer that my father commissioned from Steel Fort to be made by a master craftsman. It's been ten years, but it's still the best forging hammer in Forging Village," Ooka proudly introduced a forging hammer.

Winters looked it over inside and out: "This hammer, it's pretty heavy, isn't it?"

"Of course, a 300-kilogram hammer."

"Wow, three hundred kilograms, that's incredible!" Winters blinked and asked curiously, "Can we make it move? It must be even more incredible if it moves!"

Ooka Tsatsu readily agreed, and he led several apprentices in a flurry of activity until the waterwheel outside the workshop, with a diameter of three meters, began to turn slowly.

The enormous force is transmitted through the iron shaft, reduction gears, and a series of cranks and connecting rods.

Finally, the heavy hammer was awakened, and with unstoppable force, it smashed down on the anvil again and again.

An apprentice placed a hot, bright yellow steel bar under the hammer, and with a dull thud, the bar was first thickened and then gradually flattened.

"That's how the plowshare is made," Ooka explained. "The subsequent bending, drilling, and sharpening all have to be done manually."

Winters nodded repeatedly with his hands behind his back, clicking his tongue in amazement.

Actually, he was timing his pulse from behind. His pulse beat seventy times – about one minute, and the hammer head moved up and down one hundred and four times.

"That's quite powerful!" Winters casually asked, "How do you adjust the force?"

"Uh..." Ooka chuckled, "Adjust the water volume."

"You only make plow blades?" Winters toured Goncharov's workshop but didn't find any plows, only plow blades.

“Making heavy plows is too troublesome, so each of our seven workshops makes a part of them.” Ooka carefully explained, “My family has better forging hammers and specializes in making steel plowshares. There are also workshops that specialize in making wheels and frames.”

"What about smaller items like axes and sickles?"

“Those were all made individually by each company.”

After visiting all seven workshops, Winters did not linger any longer.

This was his first meeting with the workshop owners of the forging workshop in the village, and both sides had a decent impression of each other.

It was almost time, and the old blacksmith, Portan, was getting tired and planned to return to Zhevodan. Winters, on the other hand, took Andrei and his senior, Mason, and prepared to go check out the nearby military village.

The three parties then parted ways.

As soon as Winters and his men left Forge Village on horseback, Andrei's face immediately darkened.

"These bastards, they're all all smiles that aren't real." Andrei gritted his teeth. "I think they don't know what's what." Senior Mason also sighed.

“That’s normal.” Winters understood the workshop owners’ mindset, and he was unusually melancholy: “We are the ‘Conquerors’ now, and no one will pledge allegiance to us immediately. Besides, they genuinely believe that we won’t last long.”

If that Goncharov suddenly knelt down and swore an oath, it was either because he was insane, or because a knife was held to his throat.

"Then let's put him on his knees!" Andrei laughed loudly. "Let's turn back right now, and I guarantee that bastard will kneel down crying and begging for anything he wants to hear."

“It’s fine, but it’s boring.” Winters spurred his horse and called to his riders, “Let’s go! To the military village!”

Meanwhile, in the village of Forging, the workshop owners who had just seen off the uninvited guests gathered together.

"I thought the rebel leader would be at least thirty or forty years old." One workshop owner was still surprised: "He's just a young boy? Is he even twenty? Has he even grown his hair yet?"

"Watch your mouth," Ooka said coldly. "You should call him Lord Protector of the People."

"Hey! What tribune? It's like playing house with his mother." The workshop owner retorted sarcastically, "When I make a sign and have Duke Gévordan engraved on it, then I'll be the Duke Gévordan too?"

Several people joined in the boisterous laughter, but Ooka remained serious, neither speaking nor laughing.

Another workshop owner couldn't help but sigh, "Honestly, once the rebels are wiped out, our good days will be over!"

Upon hearing this, the other workshop owners shared the same sentiment.

Ever since the "rebels" stormed into Revodan, business in the forging town has been booming day by day.

The workshops no longer needed to worry about sales; the "rebels" would take as much ironware as they could produce.

What's even more remarkable is that the rebels were fair in their transactions, settling all payments on the spot without any delays.

The workshop owners sighed deeply whenever they thought that such good days might not last.

"Don't overthink it, and refrain from saying such things," Da Gangcha said in a deep voice. "Be careful, or when the Maple Stone City's pacification army arrives, they'll hang you all as traitors!"

The atmosphere turned cold again, and the workshop owners chatted casually for a few minutes before dispersing.

Mr. Vinicius Jr. remained on the sidelines and did not participate in the conversation.

The workshop owners in the forge village were all from the "Goncharov gang," and Vinicius Jr.'s family had been at odds with the Goncharov family since his father's time.

Seeing the others leave, Vinicius Jr. followed them out of the town hall. He hadn't gone far when Ogoncha called him from behind.

"Chengfu!" Dagangcha greeted him proactively, "Mr. Vinicius!"

Vinicius Jr. forced a smile: "Thank you."

"What's your decision?" Ooka asked politely. "It's about the matter I discussed with you before."

Vinicius Jr. seemed to have been stung by a needle, his eyes blazing with fury: "Don't even think about it! As long as I'm alive, you can forget about buying my family's forge!"

“Why bother? Your family still owes a large sum of money. If you don’t sell the forge, how do you plan to pay off the debt? Even if you sell the forge, you can come work for me. With your skills, I guarantee you’ll earn just as much as you do now,” Ooka Tsuru advised kindly.

"Goncharov! You and your son have already taken enough! Why are you still eyeing my forge?" Vinicius Jr. roared in fury, "Let me tell you, you are insatiable, and you'll have to give it all back sooner or later!"

“I don’t want to buy your forge either. I have three brothers, but my family only has one forge. I have to provide some assets for my younger brothers, don’t I?” Ooka smiled, his eyes narrowed, and his tone carried a hint of threat: “If you don’t sell, I have ways to buy it. But by then, the price won’t be the same as it is now.”

"Go to hell!" Little Vinicius spat on the ground and stormed off.

Ooka smiled contemptuously, shook his head helplessly, and walked away.

The town hall returned to its deserted state, with only the faint sound of forging echoing in the distance: "Thump, thump, thump..."

……

After arriving in Juntun Village, Winters felt much more relaxed than when he was in Duanlu Township; he even felt like he was coming home.

As soon as they entered the village, someone immediately led the horses to be fed. Upon learning of the arrival of the "people's protectors," the men, women, and children of the village all dropped their farm work and rushed over to greet them.

The women were particularly fond of the handsome—compared to the rough men, of course—Captain Montagne, and they would sway their hips and push their way toward Winters, vying to offer him salt and bread.

Winters was surrounded by women and unable to move.

According to hospitality, he was supposed to taste the bread sprinkled with salt. However, as soon as he stretched out his hand, someone touched the back of his hand.

The woman's hot hand made Winters' body tense up suddenly. Then, another hand reached up from behind and touched his thigh, becoming increasingly inappropriate.

If it weren't for the fact that it was in public, he probably would have been eaten on the spot.

The innocent Monsieur Montagne had never experienced anything like this before, and he nearly panicked and entered a spellcasting state.

It was Company Commander Tamas who rushed into the crowd and rescued Winters.

Winters, with tears in his eyes, asked, "What are you trying to do?"

"We can't hold out." Tamas grabbed a piece of bread. "Retreat! Centurion!"

Having shaken off their overly enthusiastic greeters, Winters and Andre followed Tamas to the farmland outside the first village—Mason unfortunately fell behind.

Because no one was good at naming things, the military settlements were simply and crudely named [First Village], [Second Village], etc., according to their order.

Tamas ran off in a flash, and soon returned carrying two cloth bags, water dripping from them, leaving two wet tracks on the ridge of the field.

"Yogurt curds!" Tamas shouted excitedly from afar, holding up a cloth bag high. "I brought you yogurt curds."

So the three of them sat on the edge of the field, picking yogurt crumbs out of their pockets and eating them while chatting.

The wheat seedlings in the field in front of me present a very interesting gradient.

The western side is where the first wheat fields were planted, where the wheat seedlings have already sprouted two feet above the soil, creating a lush and green landscape.

From west to east, as the sowing time gets later and later, the height of the wheat seedlings decreases accordingly.

All the way to the far east, where the fields had just been sown, the land appeared a lifeless black.

"How's the autumn planting going?" Winters asked.

“All the soil that can be turned has been turned.” Tamas swallowed the milk curds and said respectfully, “We don’t know how much will grow. Some fields were planted too late and may not survive the winter.”

Winters chewed on the milk curds: "Just do your best. The reason we're not allocating specific plots of land to you this year is so that you can cultivate as much land as possible."

Sugar is expensive, so farmhouses don't add much sugar to their milk curds; they're so sour they make you shiver.

"Is there anything unusual in Forgetown?" Winters asked seemingly casually.

“No,” Tamas replied seriously. “Those workshop owners are still relatively honest; we haven’t discovered them smuggling weapons to the eight northern towns.”

"Has anyone been suspicious recently?"

"No, don't worry, we're keeping an eye on things."

……

Why were the refugees placed as far away from the enemy as possible, while the army was stationed in the forge town?
Winters had many considerations:

First, the town of Forge is located south of the St. George River, which acts as a natural barrier, blocking many spying attempts.
Secondly, Duanlu Township is very close to Rewodan, so troops can be quickly assembled in case of an emergency.
Third, there are only two natural villages in Duanlu Township, and the rest of the farmland is occupied by the manor, which makes it very convenient to redeem it.

Finally, and most subtly, Winters' idea was to use military settlements to control and monitor the Forge Village.

As a major center for iron manufacturing in the county, it was impossible for the forging furnace township not to be firmly controlled.

The twelve military villages now surround Duanlu Township and Tiefeng Mine, forming a barrier of "people".

Whether smuggling ironware or disguising oneself for espionage, one must first deceive the eyes of the military families.

……

Winters quickly finished the two bags of yogurt crumbs, then got up and stretched, making a "click-clack" sound from all his joints.

"Alright." Seeing that it was getting late, Winters yawned and said to the company commander, "I'll stay here with you tonight. We'll go check on the other villages tomorrow."

"Great!" Tamas was overjoyed. "I'll arrange accommodations right away. What would you like to eat tonight?"

"That depends on what you have."

Later that day, Winters met Mason, who was disheveled.

Later that evening, Carlos brought both bad news and good news.

The bad news is that Carlos's blast furnace, as expected, failed.

Good news! Carlos has successfully smelted iron.

[Thank you to all readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments.]
[I'm late today, sorry.]
[This chapter touches upon the important organizational form of "guilds," which will be discussed in more detail later.]
[The following introduction is copied from Baidu Baike.]
[Guilds: Guilds were feudal organizations in European cities. They were feudal groups formed by artisans or merchants of the same trade to protect the interests of their profession. Guilds had strict and detailed bylaws, guaranteeing equal rights and obligations for members internally and exercising a monopoly externally. The term "guild" usually refers primarily to handicraft guilds.]

Guilds in Western Europe originated during the urban communal uprisings of the 12th and 13th centuries. In the 13th century, there were approximately 100 guilds in Paris, increasing to around 350 by the mid-14th century. At that time, guilds were most prevalent and developed in medium-sized cities with populations of around 10,000, while they were less common in smaller cities with populations of only one or two thousand, and in large port cities with thriving foreign trade.
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(End of this chapter)