Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 384 Rise
Nothing happened on the first day of the "reverse auction".

Not a single forge owner offered the Baron and Duchess a price. Anna also refrained from actively negotiating with the workshops and declined numerous social invitations—openly.

Privately, she asked Carlo Ed to find more "ledgers".

The buyer and seller faced off in silence, both understanding that the outcome would depend on who could remain calm and collected.

At dinner time, Berlion cooked the pork bones that had not been cleaned of meat, then removed the meat and tendons attached to the bones, poured sauce over them, and made a main course that was tender and delicious.

The bones that should have been broken open to extract the marrow were instead given to the two wolfhounds.

At the dinner table, Anna enthusiastically told Winters about her new discovery: "...it is precisely because the Steel Castle workshops have such a detailed division of labor that their operations are so interesting."

Take the Schmid family's sword workshop, for example. The Schmid family neither smelts iron nor burns charcoal; they even outsource the hardening and sharpening processes to other workshops. They are only responsible for turning iron into sword blades and knife blades..."

“Hmm.” Winters absentmindedly stirred the vegetable soup, responding subconsciously.

Anna scrutinized Winters for a moment, then asked softly, "What's wrong? Is it not going well with hiring the craftsman?"

Winters wasn't annoyed by the matter of hiring a blacksmith, but his daytime search for and invitation of a blacksmith from Steelburg hadn't gone smoothly.

He snapped out of his reverie and shook Anna's hand apologetically: "It's nothing."

“You can tell me,” Anna said, drawing out her words slightly.

Winters sighed, "It's not going well. No blacksmith is willing to go to the new land, and no amount of money can change that."

But what really bothered Winters was something else, something he couldn't do anything about and could only rely on Colonel Bern.

“Don’t be discouraged.” Anna’s voice had a calming magic: “You will find someone willing to work for you.”

Winters relaxed considerably. He nodded and asked with a smile, "Let's talk about the Schmidt family again. What's wrong with them? You can't just make swords from a piece of iron, can they smelt steel?"

“Mr. Schmid’s eldest son runs a steelmaking workshop with two forges.” Anna already knew the details of the Schmid family by heart and could give the answer without checking the records.

She continued, "Because many processes were outsourced to other workshops, Mr. Schmidt was able to focus all his energy on forging swords, which made them extremely efficient. The Schmidt family's sword workshop only had one forge, yet it was able to produce so many blades and swords, thanks to the Steelburg Blacksmiths Guild's meticulous division of labor."

"Isn't this an advantage?"

“I haven’t finished yet.” Anna blinked her beautiful eyes and took a piece of bread from the basket. “Although the Schmid family’s workshop is very efficient, because they only do one business, their ability to withstand risks is very poor. Just like this loaf of bread, even if it is very long, its thickness does not change, so it does not require much force to break it.”

After saying that, Anna broke the bread into two pieces and handed one half to Winters without saying another word.

"Then how do you break it?" Winters asked, puzzled.

Upon hearing this, Kaman, who was silently drinking his soup, glanced at Winters inadvertently.

“Breaking is just a metaphor,” Anna said, her tone like she was coaxing a child. “The key point is still about money. Mr. Schmid doesn’t buy raw materials on a cash-on-delivery basis. ‘Deferred payment’ is very common among the workshops in Steel Castle—it’s basically buying on credit. Other workshops prepay Mr. Schmid for raw materials and services, and Mr. Schmid can then pay after the goods are sold and the funds are collected…”

Winters listened in silence until the end, then, after processing the information for a while, tried to rephrase it in his own words: "You mean, Mr. Schmid was actually borrowing money to produce weapons, and since the weapons weren't selling, he couldn't pay back his debts?"

“To be precise, it wasn’t borrowing money.” Anna tilted her head and thought for a moment, “but it was close enough.”

"He did owe some money, but then what?"

Anna put away her playful and cheerful tone and said seriously, "It's not just about owing some money. If old Mr. Schmid is insolvent, his chair will be smashed."

"Smash the chair?" Winters was hearing this phrase for the first time.

“Exactly.” Anna hesitated for a moment, then whispered another word: “bankruptcy.”

The table fell silent, and Winters and Kaman stopped what they were doing.

Bankruptcy is no small matter. Under current law, bankruptcy not only means the loss of all assets and reputation, but also carries severe criminal penalties, including but not limited to imprisonment, hard labor, and corporal punishment.

"Bankruptcy?" Kaman asked skeptically. "Old Mr. Schmidt has worked hard all his life and must have saved some money. Surely he wouldn't go bankrupt from just one failure?"

“Old Mr. Schmid has indeed saved quite a bit, which is why he has seven forges,” Anna explained to Kaman. “Aside from wood, lake water, iron ore, and a little bit of food, Steel Castle produces almost nothing. Maintaining the city costs money, especially in Monta. Old Mr. Schmid doesn’t seem to be a person who seeks luxury; perhaps he has saved some emergency funds. But I seriously doubt whether those workshop owners who live as extravagantly as the Flora have enough money to cope with this crisis.”

Anna looked at Winters: "So we should change our approach. Before, you always wanted to work with the big workshops because they had a lot of inventory, and a single transaction could meet their needs. But from now on, we should target the smaller workshops first."

Large workshops, though burdened with excess inventory, possess greater scale and stronger negotiating power. Small workshops, on the other hand, are like small boats, more easily capsized by the waves. As the small workshops sink one after another, the large workshops will also be dragged to the bottom of the sea.

“Hmm. It’s like a battle between two armies. If the weak flank is defeated, even the strongest central force will be outflanked?” Winters rested his chin on his hand and pleaded with Anna, “I love hearing you say ‘we,’ could you say it a few more times?”

“I have finished eating and need to do my evening prayers. Please excuse me.” Kaman stood up abruptly and bowed to Winters and Anna. “Mr. Montagne, Ms. Navarre, good night.”

Kaman thanked Chef Bellion again, then walked out of the restaurant without looking back, heading upstairs to his bedroom.

"What's wrong with him?" Winters asked knowingly.

Anna kicked Winters hard under the table.

Winters let out a low scream and collapsed onto the dining table in pain.

Anna was immediately at a loss, turned to Winters' side, and asked with concern, "Did I touch your old injury?"

“Um…it’s nothing…” Winters pleaded weakly, “I want to hear you say ‘we’ again.”

"you!"

"Just say it once."

"We, we," Anna's voice trailed off, "We..."

"Okay, I'm fine now." Winters sat up briskly and squeezed Anna's hand: "Eat quickly, the soup will get cold soon."

Before she could finish speaking, Anna kicked Winters again, this time aiming for his right leg.

"You kicked me so hard," Winters said, rubbing his sore spot. "You'll be the one who suffers later!"

Anna was utterly defeated. She didn't know what to say, her face flushed, and she sullenly sat back down in her seat.

In terms of business acumen, ten Winters combined couldn't match one Anna. But when it comes to verbal sparring, how could Anna possibly be a match for Winters, who has been engaging in friendly exchanges with Kaman for years?

Winters knew that Ms. Navarre was shy, so he quickly changed the subject: "What if the Steelburg Blacksmiths Guild steps in to maintain the price cartel?"

Anna was taken aback by the sudden change of topic. She thought for a moment and said, "Castles are always the easiest to breach from the inside. I have some ideas, but I'll need to learn more about Monta's current commercial laws before deciding on the specifics."

"Whatever you want to do, I will support you."

“Sometimes, I can’t help but think about what Father Kaman said,” Anna whispered. “Is what I’m doing really right? Father Kaman is right… I am indeed taking advantage of other people’s misfortunes, even pushing them off a cliff…”

Winters did not interrupt Anna, but listened attentively until the end.

He took Anna's hand and said earnestly, "Don't pay attention to what Father Kaman said. You are doing this for me, on my behalf. Right or wrong, if anyone should bear the moral condemnation, it should be me."

“Not ‘I’,” Anna corrected just as earnestly. “It’s ‘we’.”

……

Nothing happened on the second day of the "reverse auction".

Both sides remained inactive, and Steel Castle spent another day in a delicate calm.

At dinner time, Berlion removed the fat from the pork belly along the skin, cut it into equal-sized slices, and fried it over low heat to render the fat.

Once the fatty pork slices are golden brown on both sides and half a pot of lard has been rendered, remove the fatty pork slices, heat the lard until it smokes, and fry it again.

Finally, a peculiar dish of "lard fried in fat" was placed on the table.

Winters had never eaten this dish before and blurted out, "Isn't this pork crackling?"

After tasting it himself, he regretted his hasty evaluation—the fried fat was not greasy at all, but rather crispy and savory. Berlion also made a clear soup as a side dish for the "fried pork cracklings." After soaking the cracklings in the soup, the surface of the cracklings absorbed some of the soup, while the inside remained crispy, making them even more delicious.

Even Anna, who easily gets tired of food, praised Bélien's cooking skills, and the Dussac lads that Winters brought with him finished their plates in no time.

At the dinner table, Anna asked Winters with a smile, "So? Did you find a blacksmith willing to go to the new land today?"

Winters, who had been out and about all day, shook his head.

Sitting next to Winters, Charles spoke up in defense, angrily saying, "Brother Montagne has already given them plenty of face and money, but these Montagnes! Ha! Each one more stubborn than the last, like rocks in a toilet—stinky and hard. I really want to pull out a machete and put it to their throats! Let's see if their heads can still be so hard!"

“A deal should be based on mutual consent.” Winters laughed instead, patting Charles on the back. “If someone is unwilling, there’s nothing we can do.”

Charles grunted in response and continued to eat his bread, looking rather sullen.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot." Anna whispered a few words to her personal maid, who nodded, turned and left, returning shortly with an invitation.

“The people from John H. Sherlock’s firm came to visit today, but I told them I was ill and unable to receive guests, so I declined.” Anna handed the invitation to Winters and said, puzzled, “Then they left this invitation.”

Winters opened the invitation; it had no signature, no salutation, only a short line of text:

"Please do me the honor of visiting the John H. Sherlock Trading Company."

Winters asked, "So, we'll just keep this invitation?"

"Correct."

Didn't you leave any other words?

"No."

Winters sniffed the invitation but couldn't smell anything.

He held the invitation in his hand, thought for a moment, and said, "Tomorrow I'll go and find out what kind of company this John H. Sherlock Trading Company is. If they send someone again, try to keep them there until I return."

"Ok."

"How's the bidding going?" Winters asked Anna. "Is it going smoothly?"

Anna smiled happily: "Of course."

……

On the third day of the "reverse auction," nothing happened.

At dinner time, Berrian served a stew with a rich, flavorful broth. He wouldn't reveal what it was, but instead asked Winters and Anna to try it first.

Winters observed that the chunks in the plate were translucent, covered in broth. They looked somewhat like overcooked radishes, but smelled like some kind of meat.

He tried a piece; it was soft and tender at first, but became chewier as he continued to bite. The broth coating the meat was rich and flavorful, with a hint of sweetness in the aftertaste.

It's hard to imagine that such a stunning dish came from the hands of a blacksmith who spent most of his time changing horseshoes.

Anna also particularly enjoyed the dish, and surprisingly emptied her plate even faster than Winters. After thanking Berrian repeatedly, she asked curiously, "What exactly is this? Some kind of sugar or paste?"

“Madam,” Berrian replied with a hint of pride, “it’s beef cheek.”

Anna's expression became somewhat unnatural, because beef cheek, as a "rather odd scrap," was not usually served on a formal table, but she had to admit that she liked the dish that Bélien had brought out.

Anna quickly regained her composure and smiled as she praised Berrian: "I've heard that the most skilled chefs know to serve a dish of rustic fare, which guests would normally disdain, as a special delicacy at the end of a banquet. Mr. Sawyer, thank you, your special dish was absolutely delicious."

Berrian bowed deeply, expressing his heartfelt gratitude for Anna's praise. He prepared to return to the kitchen, but Winters stopped him.

Winters pressed Berion into a seat and asked with a mixture of helplessness and seriousness, "What exactly is the guild oath of the Steelcastle blacksmiths? Where does its binding force come from? Why do all the blacksmiths remain silent about it yet remain so loyal to it?"

"What?" Anna asked, "Nothing to show for it today either?"
Winters shook his head and then looked at Berrian.

Berion glanced down at the toe of his boot: “Your Excellency, I can assure you—I have not taken the oath of secrecy of the Steelcastle blacksmiths. Therefore, I do not know the specifics of the oath.”

“Don’t worry, you can just say what you know.” Winters patted Berrian on the shoulder. “You can say whatever you want.”

Berlion paused for a moment, then asked with difficulty, "For example?"

Winters tried to avoid putting pressure on Berleon: "For example, what exactly is the binding force of the Steel Castle blacksmith's oath of secrecy? It's just a sentence, isn't it? Why does everyone take it so seriously?"

“Darling,” Anna gave Winters a reproachful look, “a vow is more than just a word.”

Winters made an apologetic gesture.

Berion regained his composure and said, "Your Excellency, instead of dwelling on the effectiveness of the oath, have you considered what kind of person can become a steel fortress blacksmith?"

"What kind of person?" Winters asked.

Berlean, unusually eloquent, explained: "First, a blacksmith must be a local resident of Steelburg, with a family and a respectable background; second, becoming an apprentice requires a guarantor, usually several close relatives and friends; finally, apprentices must endure a long apprenticeship. During this time, they receive no salary, are frequently beaten by their master, and may be dismissed if they don't work hard. It takes several years of honing their skills before a child can become a formally registered Steelburg blacksmith."

Sounds harsh, right? But compared to the unskilled mule drivers who could only do the lowest-level manual labor in mines and workshops, blacksmiths were incredibly well-off. They earned better wages, enjoyed higher status, had a decent life, civil rights, and the potential to become forge owners. Most importantly—they learned real skills. Many people, simply because they weren't from Solingen, would never even step through that door.

Winters concluded, "You mean that blacksmiths who have mastered their craft are neither the best nor the worst, so they don't want to change and are afraid of change."

“Not only that, Your Excellency,” Berion said in a deep voice, “If any registered Steelburg blacksmith chooses to serve you, his family, relatives, and even his guarantor when he entered the trade will all suffer. By suffering, I mean his life will be in danger. As for the blacksmith himself, he will certainly not escape death. The Steelburg blacksmiths’ guild will kill any traitor at all costs—they have the ability and the determination.”

Winters and Anna exchanged a glance. Assuming what Berion said was true, then the Steel Fortress blacksmiths, if not a united front, were at least much more solid than the alliance of the republics.

They are a group bound together by interests and violence, so recruiting blacksmiths privately may not be an option.

Winters stared intently at Berrian's face with a sharp gaze: "So, has the Steel Castle blacksmith ever had a case of 'betrayal'?"

Unable to meet Winters' gaze, Berian lowered his head and swallowed hard. "I'm not quite sure, Your Excellency."

Winters sighed inwardly; Berrian was clearly unwilling to discuss it further. Since the other party was unwilling to talk, he couldn't force him to.

Berleon had followed Winters through countless battles across the Great Wilderness, and Winters knew his old subordinate's character all too well. Berleon didn't want to talk; there was nothing Winters could do about it. Forcing him to speak was something Winters couldn't bring himself to do.

Winters patted Bélien on the shoulder and said nothing more.

Berrian stared down at the tip of his boot, remaining silent.

“It’s no big deal.” Winters tapped the table lightly, pretending to be relaxed. “If the blacksmith can’t handle it, can’t we still handle someone who can handle the blacksmith?”

When one path is blocked, sometimes changing direction can broaden one's thinking.

Winters slammed his fist on the table: "If you really can't hire anyone, then buy the forging hammers and drilling machines! And move the furnace back to Iron Peak exactly as it was!"

“A furnace? I’m afraid that won’t work. Where would we find a carriage that big?” Anna replied with a light smile.

Winters laughed loudly: "Then make ten of them, a hundred of them."

Winters' positive mood seemed to have a ripple effect on Berrian, whose tense expression relaxed somewhat. He rose, bowed, and went back to the kitchen.

Only Winters and Anna remained at the table; Father Kaman did not dine with them.

"Madam, how is your work progressing?" Winters asked deliberately in a formal tone.

“The dominoes are all set up,” Anna replied with a smile. “They just need a gentle push.”

……

On the fourth day, a gentle push came.

News came from Hornburg that the appeals and defenses against the trade ban... had been a complete failure.

[Although it's a long chapter, it's late and doesn't have 6,000 words, so I'm missing a chapter OrZ]
[Regarding Guild Oaths/Oaths of Secrecy]
In ancient times, it was natural to keep a unique skill a secret. Modern Chinese people should easily understand this; the saying "passed down but not to daughters" is familiar to everyone.
[The same applies to other civilizations.]
During the late Middle Ages and Renaissance, the technique for making transparent glass (glass as clear as crystal) was known only to glassmakers on the island of Murano, north of Venice. The Murano people strictly guarded this secret; glassmakers were forbidden from leaving the island for life, and any glassmaker taken aboard a ship was to be killed without mercy.
[Therefore, for a long time, transparent glass was a unique technology of the Murano people, and Murano Island maintained considerable prosperity by manufacturing glassware and mirrors.]
The blacksmiths of Solingen, the City of Blades, also have a "secret oath," vowing never to reveal the secrets of sword forging to outsiders. From the 12th to the 19th centuries, Solingen was a major sword-making center. Even today, they still sell kitchen knives… (Zwilling J.A. Henckels)
[However, all oaths of secrecy will eventually be broken.]
Murano's transparent glass technique was eventually revealed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and flourished everywhere.
In the 17th century, a group of swordsmiths from Solingen fled religious persecution to England, eventually returning to their trade at what is now Shortley Bridge, bringing their skills with them. The names of these fleeing blacksmiths—Oley, Vooz, Molle, and Bertram—can still be found in documents.
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(End of this chapter)