Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 382 The Whirlpool (Part 9)

“Every esteemed gentleman here knows this city better than I do. Steelburg’s major ironwork transactions have always been conducted behind closed doors. Based on long-standing and trusting relationships, buyers and sellers can enter into agreements with just simple verbal promises.”

Anna paused briefly, smiled, and nodded to [Iron Hand] and old Schmid respectively: "The same goes for both the foothills and Veneta."

The forge owners were puzzled and shocked, as if they had been struck unexpectedly. They all instinctively fell silent and listened intently. No one knew what the young baron was up to, that he would put a woman in charge.
However, the workshop owners had to admit that although the Baroness spoke softly and quietly, she possessed a calm and unhurried strength, and was so beautiful that they dared not look directly at her.

“But the Granahsi family doesn’t have such a valuable relationship of trust with Steel Castle,” Anna continued. “So we hope to complete the transaction in a more open, fair, and simpler way.”

Anna nodded in acknowledgment. Two guards, each carrying a stack of scrolls, entered the reception room.

The Baron's guards all carried sabers, their eyes were cold, their physiques robust, and their every move exuded a fierce and unyielding aura. Just a glance from one of the Baron's guards sent chills down the spines of the forge masters.

The sword-wielding guards distributed the scrolls to everyone one by one without expression, and each workshop owner who received a scroll fell silent.

Fuller was in a bad position and was the last to receive the scroll, having previously only been able to watch others' anxious expressions. After receiving the scroll, Fuller eagerly opened it, and what came into view were lines of product names and numbers, all written in neat italics.

From gun barrels, sabers, helmets, and breastplates to buttons, axles, lead ingots, and steel discs, the scroll lists almost all of Steel Castle's output.

The name of the product is written on the left side of the scroll, while the price and quantity are written on the right side. The format is simple and easy to understand.

At the end of the scroll are supplementary descriptions of the listed items. The person who compiled the scroll clearly put in a lot of effort, specifying very detailed specifications for each item.

For example, the description of "military saber" is as follows: [A cavalry saber with a blade length of 90 centimeters to 1 meter, slightly curved, and made of hard steel. It must be able to withstand the impact of high-speed slashing and has a certain degree of elasticity. Includes the blade and scabbard].

For example, the description of "barrel" is: [Length 1 to 1.2 meters, weight less than 4 kilograms. Straight, smooth inner wall, drilled at least once. Capable of firing lead bullets of 25 grams or more. Excludes gun fittings and accessories].

Fuller quickly found the price quote for "gun barrel" on the scroll. It was slightly higher than the normal market price for gun barrels, but still a price that Fuller could not afford.

Selling muskets at the price offered by the other party results in a loss for every musket sold.

Unless Fuller hires more people to dismantle the muskets he has and sell only the barrels—then he might be able to break even after deducting the cost of hiring people.

But what about the rest of the guns? Each musket's gun parts are custom-made according to the barrel. Even if they look similar in size, if you swap the stocks of two muskets, they will most likely still not be compatible.

Even if the guns could be reused, who would buy them at this point? They would still just sit in the warehouse or be split up and sold as firewood.

While Fuller was feeling down, he suddenly realized that the list also included gun parts such as bullet molds and cleaning rods. Although the prices weren't high, there was still some profit to be made.

Just as Fuller was racking his brains trying to figure out if the profits from spare parts could cover the shortfall in barrels, Iron Hand Geisberger raised the scroll and demanded sharply, "What does this mean?"

“As the list suggests,” Anna said calmly, “we no longer want to discuss the details of the sale with you behind closed doors; that would be unfair and not transparent enough. So we are frankly informing you of our needs, the quantities we require, and the prices we are willing to accept. There is absolutely nothing to hide, and there is absolutely no conspiracy.”

Most workshop owners were still processing the sudden turn of events, falling into a strange silence. Only a few quick-thinking individuals were able to respond on the spot.

"You offered a price the Baron could accept," Iron Hand said grimly, pressing, "and then?"

"You may also submit your acceptable prices at any time—in a non-public manner."

"What happens next?"

Anna's voice was clear and cool: "The lowest bidder wins."

Upon hearing this, Fuller immediately looked at the number listed in the barrel column—three thousand—and his heart sank.

Three thousand muskets is no small number. If given to a workshop, it would surely make the forge owner a fortune. But in the current situation, three thousand muskets probably wouldn't even be enough to feed the leading workshops. Even if the blacksmiths' guild fought alongside them, they would only be left with a few breadcrumbs at most.

Anna remained impassive, observing the expressions of everyone in the living room with an almost indifferent attitude.

Since the workshop owners in Steelburg have made it clear they intend to collude to raise prices, the best counterattack is to completely expose the truth. No more backroom deals, no more playing both sides; everything must be done openly and honestly in the public eye. Of course, three thousand pieces is a very conservative figure, precisely matching the inventory levels of each workshop.

Anna was well aware of her weaknesses: she was a woman; she was an outsider with no roots or prestige in Steel Castle; she was not old enough and was just a little girl in the eyes of most workshop owners.

The forge masters of Steelburg had countless reasons to despise and look down on her, and even her beauty—a virtue in the general sense—would put her at a disadvantage in negotiations.

Sometimes, feigning weakness is a brilliant strategy, but not in the current situation. Being looked down upon by the forge masters of Steelcastle will only hinder future pressure efforts and slow down negotiations, and what Winters needs most is time.

Therefore, Anna's every move today was carefully considered: her makeup, her clothes, her tone of voice, her entrance, and "the particularly fierce Dussac guards."

She intentionally cultivated an image that was unapproachable and unapproachable, subtly putting pressure on the older and more powerful forge masters.

It may sound like a shady approach, but people always get to know strangers by their appearance first.

Anna also prepared another weapon, an even more sophisticated one—mystery.

After noting down the faces of the anxious workshop owners, Anna gave a slight nod as a gesture of respect, then, escorted by two guards, walked out of the living room without looking back. She didn't glance at the forge masters again, nor did she utter a single word.

The workshop owners exchanged bewildered glances as they watched the Baroness leave, only realizing there were still many questions they hadn't asked as the door to the inner room slowly closed.

Father Kaman was almost instantly surrounded by the workshop owners:

"Lowest bidder wins? What does that mean?"

What does "non-public form" mean?

"How should we quote a price? Should we also prepare a list in the same format?"

"Gentlemen, everything you need to know is written in the scroll." Kaman politely but firmly saw them off: "Please go back, gentlemen."

And so, Fuller, along with the other workshop owners, was asked to leave the detached brick building that Baron Granah had rented.

As Fuller stepped out of the room, he heard the priest say his last words: "His Excellency the Baron asked me to tell you all, 'This is the best of the worst.'"

Before parting ways at the lakeside hotel, Iron Hand Geisberg wanted to say a few inspiring words, but he kept repeating the same old clichés: "Keep your composure," "As long as we don't give in, he's just a little baron and he can't do anything to us," and "Don't give outsiders any opportunity."

The crowd's reaction was lukewarm, and Tie Shou, no longer wanting to waste words, hurriedly got into his carriage and left.

For some reason, the words the priest relayed were deeply imprinted in Fuller's mind and kept echoing on his way home.

……

While Anna was making her first direct confrontation with the Forge Masters and successfully impressing them, Winters, Berion, and Charles were traversing the streets and alleys of the old town of Steel Castle.

The so-called streets in the old town are actually just cramped open spaces between rows of houses. They are very narrow, only wide enough for two or three people to walk side by side. Moreover, they lack planning, resembling the veins that grow naturally on a leaf.

The old town of Steel Castle is no different from the former Guitu City, with traces of its unbridled growth everywhere.

Workshops of all sizes were crammed along the banks of the Rose River, using the river's power to drive bellows and forge hammers. The poor who worked in the workshops built shacks nearby, forming the earliest slums around them.

As Steelburg's wealth accumulated, slums also spread and grew. Dilapidated wooden houses gradually replaced shacks, encroaching on the streets and demanding space from the sky, constantly rising higher and higher, ultimately shaping Steelburg's old town into what it is today.

Longwind was too conspicuous, so Winters rode out on an old horse with gray spots. Berian and Charles also chose unassuming horses.

Berian led the way, with Charles following behind. The three rode their horses along a road paved with slag, occasionally ducking to avoid icicles hanging from the eaves.

Winters pulled his felt hat down a bit to cover the bruises he'd gotten from bumping into something the night before—the priest wasn't lying when he said Winters had suddenly developed a headache.

It was still very cold, and there were almost no pedestrians on the road.

Curious eyes frequently peered at the three riders from behind the windows on both sides of the street.

A skinny, scruffy little dog stood guard at the alley entrance, barking wildly at Winters. As Winters approached, the dog vanished behind the wooden wall in a flash.

Passing through the suffocating shacks and reaching the riverbank, the streets widen. Because the workshops are located on the riverbank, even the narrowest sections of the road can accommodate two freight wagons side by side.

The muleteers, as the workshop owner described them, gathered along the road by the riverbank, warming themselves around the dim fire.

Frowning brows, sunken eyes, high cheekbones—they looked expectantly at Winters after hearing the sound of hooves, then blankly looked down at the firelight after realizing Winters didn't intend to hire anyone—almost everyone was like that.

Charles caught up with Winters and stood beside him, asking in a low voice with pity, "Why are they waiting outside in this cold weather? No one's going to hire them, is there?"

“Hope.” Winters’s eyes were complicated. “Because of hope.”

Charles muttered, still somewhat confused, "Hopefully, those workshop owners are holding on to their prices so stubbornly because they're hoping for something, right?"

Winters didn't speak. The three continued riding and soon arrived at a workshop.

After confirming the information, Berion returned to Winters and reported, "Your Excellency, this is the 'Neufield Workshop' that Mr. Carlo Ed mentioned."

“Let’s go.” Winters drew his cane, dismounted, and said, “Let’s go take a look.”

Just like the weather, business at Neufield's workshop was slow. The courtyard was empty, and no one answered the door.

Winters simply drew his staff and sword and knocked the bolt off.

The three walked into the workshop's courtyard, where a sleepy-eyed, brown-haired young man emerged from the tightly closed workshop.

Upon seeing Winters carrying a staff and sword, the brown-haired young man's sleepiness vanished instantly: "Who are you? What do you want?"

Winters sheathed his sword and staff, habitually surveying his surroundings, and asked, "What, not doing business now?"

"Business? Oh! Are you looking to buy horse harnesses?" The brown-haired young man hurriedly removed the workshop door panel and greeted them enthusiastically, "Saddles? Stirrups? We have everything. Or do you need any repairs?"

“I’d like to see a carriage, a passenger carriage,” Winters said succinctly.

"A big deal has come in!" the brown-haired young man thought, instantly becoming even more enthusiastic. He deftly tore down the door panel and shouted loudly into the house, "Klaus! Go and wake the old man up!"

Inside the workshop, another boy, also with brown hair, was slowly polishing a wheel spoke. Hearing his name called, the boy looked up in confusion: "What's wrong?"

"Go and call the old man!" the brown-haired young man urged. "We have a guest."

The boy, barely out of school, responded and lazily walked towards the inner room.

Winters roughly figured it out: the brown-haired young man and the boy who looked about 70% alike were brothers, and the old man the young man was talking about must be their father.

"Your workshop only has three people?" Winters asked.

The brown-haired young man scratched his head: "Everyone else is resting at home."

"How long have you been resting?"

"Hey, it's been a while."

Just then, a lean old man came out. Seeing Winters and his companions, he hurriedly wiped his hands and stepped forward to greet them: "Gentlemen, how may I help you?"

Unlike the two young men, the old man had very light hair, almost pure white.

Winters chuckled, realizing he had been too presumptuous. He coughed lightly. "I'd like to see the style of your workshop's carriages."

"A carriage? Please wait a moment, please wait a moment." The old man's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly went back to the inner room. Not long after, he returned with a thick picture book: "Please feel free to choose. As long as you pick one, I can make it here."

The old man enthusiastically opened the large book, while frantically gesturing with his eyes to the two brown-haired boys to move a chair.

Winters wasn't interested in the carriage's decorations; he went straight to the point: "Does your workshop have any carriages available for personal use?"

"A carriage, huh?" The old man was initially surprised, then delighted, rubbing his hands together. "They're usually made to order. I do have one here that Mr. Solis ordered. If you're in a hurry, I can ask Mr. Solis to transfer it to you, but..."

Winters nodded politely: "Please take me to see it."

Mr. Solis's custom-made carriage was parked in the inner workshop, and the old man kept praising how good the materials were, how exquisite the details were, and how lightweight the carriage was.

Winters circled the carriage once, and under the astonished gazes of the old man and the two brown-haired lads, he crawled under the carriage.

A short while later, he emerged again amidst shocked gazes.

Winters brushed the dust off his clothes and asked, "Is this your best carriage?"

The old man paused for a moment, then said, "That's right."

Winters, leaning on his cane, carefully recalled what he had seen:
The best carriage in Neufield's workshop was virtually indistinguishable from the one Mr. Ed lent to Winters; both carriages and frames were connected by belts—that is, the carriages were suspended from the frames by several one-inch-wide belts to reduce vibrations during travel.

Winters wasn't surprised by carriages suspended by belts; he'd even used them to transport cannons. However, the belts were rather fragile and easily broke with significant jolting.

A cheaper option is chain suspension, but of course, it's far less comfortable than a belt.

“Are there any better carriages?” Winters asked.

The old man, at a loss for words, asked the strange man before him, "How can it be considered better?"

Winters looked at the old man: "The White Eagle's carriage."

"How did you know..." The old man was startled, but quickly changed his words: "Mr. Esther's carriage was indeed sent to me for repair, but I only repair carriages. Mr. Esther did not buy carriages from me."

"A White Eagle carriage is parked here now?"

The old man stammered, "Yes."

"Take me to see it."

The old man looked extremely reluctant. Winters nodded, and Charles handed the old man a bag of silver coins.

The old man suddenly became enthusiastic again, leading Winters and the others to another carport.

A carriage adorned with a white eagle emblem was parked in the carriage shed.

Winters circled the carriage, observing it but couldn't discern anything special. The White Eagle's carriage was essentially identical to the previous one in appearance: four wheels, frame, and body.

Winters stood in front of the car, determined: "Take it apart."

"Ah?" The old man was shocked.

“Give him more money.” Winters looked at Charles.

So White Eagle's carriage was dismantled on the spot. The carriage was separated from the frame, and the four wheels were removed.

During the dismantling process, the old man breathed a sigh of relief. The strange man in front of him did not intend to damage the most expensive carriage. Instead, he was more interested in the frame hidden under the carriage. In other words, after dismantling, it could be put back together, and he could easily get two sets of money.

Winters noticed something amiss as the carriages were being lifted off the frame:
White Eagle's carriage did not use belt suspension; instead, the carriage body was connected to the frame by two sets of arch-like steel bars.

"What is this?" Winters immediately stepped forward and asked.

The old man glanced at it and replied nonchalantly, "I don't know either...maybe it's some new gadget?"

Winters tried stepping on the steel bar, but it barely moved—how could a structure capable of supporting the weight of the carriage be bent by stepping on it?
So Winters dropped his cane and stood on it.

Charles rushed towards Winters: "Watch out!"

“It’s alright.” Winters swayed as he maintained his balance.

When it bore Winters' weight, the steel bar underwent significant deformation. When Winters jumped down, the steel bar immediately returned to its original shape, just like a sword.

“This is…” Winters raised an eyebrow and reached out to examine the steel bar: “A new contraption from Steel Castle?”

The old man licked his lips, looking troubled. "It shouldn't be. I've never heard of anyone using this kind of thing to build cars."

Berian, who had been silent all along, walked to the carriage and, after examining it carefully, his expression became somewhat subtle: "This is a reed."

Winters had certainly seen reeds before, in wheel guns, but he'd never seen one this big: "A reed this big?"

“Yes,” Berleon said confidently, “spring steel sheet.”

"Where did it come from?"

Berion's Adam's apple bobbed, and after a moment of silence, he whispered, "The Empire."

[Someone mentioned suspension and bearings in the previous chapter. In fact, bearings and suspension are designs that have existed for a long time, including belt suspension, chain suspension, and brass bearings. The author has explained this in detail in previous posts, so I will not repeat it here.]
[However, it remains uncertain whether belt suspension is a continuation of Roman technology or a medieval invention.]
[Although a belt-suspended chariot was unearthed in Pompeii, no physical examples survive from the Middle Ages, and existing paintings also depict it as being suspended by chains, so the exact technological process remains uncertain.]
[Let's assume this story is based on the premise that ancient technology was well preserved QAQ]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, rewards, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)