Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 385 Thunder
At dawn, the messenger rode into the city on horseback.

Before noon, the bad news had spread throughout Steel Castle.

The imagined scenario of "Solingen calling for action and other autonomous regions responding in droves" did not materialize. Instead, the Solingen representative was surprised to find himself in the minority.

Steelburg, hastily launching a counterattack, was forced to contend with the well-prepared Senate on a single state front, resulting in a disastrous outcome. Not only did they fail to overturn the embargo, but pro-United Provinces representatives seized the opportunity to pass it three times in the House of Representatives, making it a legally binding law.

In the political system of the Republic of Monta, the role of the Senate is to restrain the local Montaist forces. Although the Senate has only incomplete legislative functions, it also possesses absolute veto power.

From the moment the embargo became law, there was no possibility of it being overturned unless the constitution of the Republic of Monta was rewritten or the upper house was purged.

At noon, Iron Hand Geisberg was the first to secretly send someone to visit Baron and Baron Granah.

Following suit, other forge owners also showed their goodwill, softened their stance, and lowered their posture. Throughout the afternoon, servants and messengers from various households came and went in an endless stream to deliver messages.

As evening fell, a simple carriage stopped beneath the stone building by the lake. Ernst Fuller, with red and swollen eyes, disheveled hair, and a dejected expression, stepped out of the carriage.

Winters led Fuller into the small parlor and gestured for Kaman and the guards to leave.

He politely poured Fuller half a glass of wine and said directly in Common, “It looks like you really need a little of this, Mr. Fuller.”

Fuller unceremoniously picked up his glass and downed it in one gulp. Head bowed, he muttered to himself, "I was originally planning to accept your offer, sir, I was originally planning to accept it! But then I suddenly realized that my goods might not even be worth your initial offer. Well done, sir, well done..."

Winters listened quietly to Fuller's outburst and then poured Fuller a little more wine.

“But do you know what?” Fuller looked up at the Baron, his eyes glazed with drunkenness, and said, “You’re not the one who’s making the biggest profit on this big deal, you’re definitely not the one who’s making the biggest profit!”

Winters frowned slightly, straightened his posture, and waited for Fuller to continue.

Nearly forty years old, Ernst Fuller, at this moment, was like a child who knew which family's adults were sleeping together—a mysterious smile spread across his face as he leaned out and furtively beckoned Winters to come closer.

Winters smiled and leaned forward slightly in response.

“This deal,” Fuller said in a low voice, “makes the biggest profit for us Steelburgers.”

After saying that, Fuller slapped his thigh hard, bursting into tears and laughter: "We Steel Fortress people!"

Winters calmly stated the facts: "You're drunk, Mr. Fuller."

“That’s right! I’m drunk.” Fuller, reeking of alcohol, slurred but earnestly corrected the Baron, “But my mind is still… still perfectly clear!”

"Please go back to your residence and rest first. We can discuss this tomorrow." Winters tapped the armrest, and two guards pushed open the door and entered the living room.

Winters turned to look at the curtains: "Take Mr. Fuller home."

"No way!" Fuller suddenly stood up, swaying as he regained his balance, and shouted, "I have to tell you today! I haven't finished speaking yet!"

Winters nodded, and the guards who were about to take down the unruly drunkard retreated back outside the door at his command.

"All you've bought are gun barrels and sword blades," Fuller mumbled indistinctly, waving his arms vigorously as he asked Winters, "But do you know what we Steelburg people buy?"

"What do you want to buy?" Winters raised an eyebrow.

Fuller licked his lips, bent down, and uttered a single word in a weak voice: "Forge."

After saying that, he chuckled and asked Winters triumphantly, "Don't you understand? It's a forge, ha!"

The more he laughed, the redder Fuller's eyes became. He stumbled and fell heavily next to the small table.

Winters stood up, picked up the plump, white Fuller with one hand, and placed him on the bench as if he were an object.

Fuller, who had just been grinning foolishly, suddenly burst into tears. He pounded the bench, pounded his chest, and tore at his hair: "They want the forge! They want my grandfather's forge! They want my father's forge! They're going to take away my family's forge..."

Witnessing the middle-aged man break down in front of him, Wintersk resolutely showed no sympathy or contempt.

Winters waited until Fuller calmed down a bit before patting him on the shoulder and handing him a handkerchief.

"What exactly happened?" Winters asked.

Fuller choked back tears as he replied, "They want to settle scores with me."

“Who wants to settle scores with you?” Winters asked.

Fuller's eyes reddened, and he gritted his teeth as he rattled off names: "Geisberg, Witzleben, Herring, Odoff... esteemed gentlemen! Respectable sirs! They bought my debts from others, and now they're forcing me to pay them back! I can't pay them back..."

Finally, Fuller broke down in tears again: "If I can't pay back the money, I'll go bankrupt! I'll take away my forge!"

Winters listened calmly and composedly, not at all surprised, because the strategy Iron Hand Gasberger had adopted was the one Anna had offered them earlier.

……

After carefully examining the income and expenditure of small and medium-sized arms workshops, Ms. Navarre discovered that most of the small workshops in Steel Castle were currently extremely short of cash.

When they ordered raw materials and paid their wages, they agreed on prices in gold and silver coins.

Furthermore, after the outbreak of the Plattite Civil War, the price of arms rose all the way up, and the costs of raw materials, processing, and wages also increased accordingly.

On the other hand, the main form of assets on the books of small and medium-sized arms workshops were physical arms such as muskets, armor, lead ingots, and swords.

Debts are fixed, but assets are variable. Once arms prices plummet, small and medium-sized workshops can easily fall into a dead end of "inability to repay debts - forced liquidation - in-kind settlement is still insufficient to repay debts - bankruptcy".

Especially now, with the embargo law passing the House of Representatives three times, extinguishing any last hope, no one will buy arms. If handled well, the muskets, armor, and swords in small workshops could become worthless on paper.

A crisis can also be an opportunity; every crisis presents a chance to reshuffle the deck. In a pond like Steel Castle, already teeming with fish, the inevitable result is that small fish, unable to withstand risks, are eliminated, while larger fish seize the opportunity to merge and expand—or fight amongst themselves.

Ms. Navarre never intended to step into the pond of Steel Castle; she simply found the most suitable point of leverage, gently pushing the big fish from behind, urging it to devour the smaller fish.

Acquiring debt, lobbying the courts, running liquidations... who can do these things better than the big workshop owners in Steelburg?
……

Winters watched as Mr. Fuller wept bitterly.

As agreed with Anna and Iron Hand, Winters' task was simple: he only needed to stop buying weapons from the small workshop owners and wait for them to go bankrupt.

At that time, Iron Hand and his men will take the forge, and Winters will be able to buy the small workshop owners' stockpiles of weapons at a price that is "so cheap it's practically free."

Winters asked, "Gesberg is a member of Congress Servet's group, and Witzler was a member of Mayor Wupper's group. How did they end up working together?"

"In front of the furnace," Fuller wiped away his tears and said bitterly, "politics is nothing!"

"Didn't Congressman Servet and Mayor Wupper stop it?"

"In the face of the forge, what are councilors? What are mayors? They're all in cahoots!"

Winters paused for a moment, then asked, "How do you want me to help you? Buy all your inventory?"

“No, no, you can’t help me, Your Excellency. Even if you buy all my goods, it won’t be enough to pay off my debts. I didn’t come here to beg for your help, no.” Fuller broke down in tears again: “I’m just so miserable, so in so much pain. I have no one to talk to, I don’t know who to talk to, who else I can talk to…”

Winters got up and left, and soon returned with another clean handkerchief, which he handed to Fuller.

"Even buying all your goods wouldn't be enough to pay off your debts?" Winters asked.

Fuller wiped away his tears, blew his nose forcefully, and asked with a bitter smile, "Do you know how my grandfather did business?" "No."

Fuller gestured drunkenly: "It's simple. He worked by the forge before sunrise and continued until dark. He only spent a small portion of his earnings on himself and his family, saving the rest. He kept saving and saving until he could afford a forge. That's how the Fuller family got their first forge. Do you know how my father did business?"

"do not know."

"Like my grandfather, he worked, saved money, worked, saved money, and saved money his whole life, finally buying a second forge."

Winters nodded slightly, indicating his approval and agreement.

“But!” Fuller’s tone shifted abruptly, his voice rising as if in anger. “That was all in their time. Saving money to buy a forge—that was something only they could do. Not anymore! Not for a long time! Forges can no longer be bought through hard work and accumulating silver coins one by one. In the past, a blacksmith could buy a forge by working honestly his whole life. And now? How many blacksmiths in Steelburg are now working in other people’s workshops? How many blacksmiths never own their own forge in their entire lives?”

Winters listened silently, offering no comment.

Before Fuller could finish speaking, he slammed his fist on the table, stood up abruptly, and waved his arms dramatically: "That idea of ​​saving money and then expanding is no longer viable! If Fuller Workshop wants to grow, it can only borrow money, it can only take on debt, it can only use other people's money to gamble! To fight! To take a risk!"

“But you lost the bet,” Winters said softly.

Fuller's voice and emotions suddenly plummeted, and he slumped back onto the bench. He covered his face, and soon sobs escaped through his fingers: "I lost, I lost, I'm willing to accept the loss... but I'm so unwilling, so unwilling."

At this time, there was a knock on the door.

Kaman walked into the living room, ignoring Fuller who was in tears, and went straight to Winters, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "You have another guest."

"Who?" Winters asked frankly.

Kaman whispered a name.

Winters' lips suddenly curled up slightly—Kaman recognized it as the smile Winters wore when he wanted to play a trick on someone.

Winters stood up, grabbed Fuller, and shoved him into Kaman's arms, letting Fuller put his arm around Kaman's shoulder.

“Let Mr. Fuller go into the inner room as well,” Winters instructed. “Don’t make a sound.”

After saying that, without waiting for Kaman's agreement, Winters quickly walked to the wall, opened the window, and then hurriedly went to open the window on the other side.

Kaman rolled his eyes in disbelief and helped Fuller into the inner room.

After clearing away the cups and tidying the bench, Winters waited until the smell of drunkenness in the living room had dissipated before closing the window and letting Koch invite the visitor inside.

Shortly after, Koch led in a man wearing a black cloak and hood.

Koch bowed and withdrew from the living room. The mysterious visitor removed his cloak and hood, revealing a shrewd and powerful face. He laughed and extended his hand to Winters: "Baron."

Winters smiled and shook the rough hand that was respectfully called "Iron Hand": "Mr. Gasberger."

After shaking hands in the manner of the Blacksmiths' Brotherhood, the two sat down by the fireplace.

"Is there something you need to visit me in person?" Winters asked.

Iron Hand Geisberg flashed two rows of strong teeth: "I always feel uneasy about having someone else speak for me. When it comes to important matters, it's best to discuss them face-to-face."

“That’s what I think too.” Winters picked up the bottle and poured drinks for Iron Hand and himself.

Iron Hand Geisberg picked up his glass and asked with amusement, "Where's your wife? Don't you want her here?"

“Since you have come in person, there is no need for someone else to speak on my behalf.” Winters smiled faintly. “Just talk to me directly.”

Iron Hand Geisberg laughed heartily: "I knew it! In the end, it's still you who's in charge!"

Iron Hand's visit was not only to reaffirm the previous "agreement," but also to discuss the price and process for Winters' future acquisition of the arms.

The large workshop owners of Steelburg have abandoned the small and medium-sized workshop owners and their political differences, forming a new alliance.

The new alliance has fewer members, more direct alignment of interests, and greater bargaining power. Iron-fisted Geisberg proposed new conditions based on this new situation.

He proposed that there was no need to wait for the bankruptcy liquidation process; the Baron could now directly purchase the goods from the various workshop owners.

In this way, Winters saved time—who knows how long the entire bankruptcy liquidation process would take?
The major workshop owners have more funds for acquisitions—and at the same time, the destabilizing factors in this wave of mergers have been eliminated.

Of course, the price of the arms should also be increased accordingly, from "cheap to practically free" to "slightly lower than the price offered by the Baron".

Winters listened attentively and nodded politely in agreement, but at the last moment said, "I still hope I can think about it some more."

Geisberg readily agreed, put his cloak and hood back on, and left satisfied.

Winters poured the rest of the wine into the fireplace, pushed open the door to the inner room, and asked with a smile, "Alright, you all heard that."

In the inner room on the first floor next to the small living room, there was not only a bored Kaman but also a dumbfounded Ernst Fuller—the latter was pressed tightly against the wall trying to eavesdrop on the conversation in the small living room.

There was also Ms. Anna Navarre and the grim-faced old man, Schmid.

……

By the time Winters and Kaman saw old Schmidt and Fuller off, it was completely dark.

Old Schmidt and Fuller came to visit secretly, so their carriages were parked far away, and Winters and Carman walked them a few steps further.

“Therefore, my attitude remains unchanged. I respect you.” Winters, leaning on his cane and pulling his robe tighter, said to old man Schmid as he walked, “But if you want me to stand on your side, you must offer better terms than Iron Hands—or at least the same terms.”

“I understand.” Old Schmid nodded expressionlessly.

The plump Ernst Fuller, already quite drunk, was being helped along by Kaman. Two Dussac guards, each carrying a lantern, escorted the four of them.

A cold wind howled, and the night was dark. The six of them walked all the way to where old man Schmidt's carriage was waiting.

"I won't see you off any further," Winters said, extending his hand to old man Schmid. "Take care."

Old Schmidt grasped Winters' hand and shook it slightly: "Take care."

A guard carrying a lantern walked to the driver's seat and gently patted the driver's leg. The driver seemed to be asleep, and the guard didn't respond even after patting him several times.

Suddenly, Dusak's guard, who was trying to wake the coachman, shuddered and fell straight to the ground, the lantern also falling to the ground.

Like a feline sensing danger, Winters's fur stood on end instantly.

The door of old man Schmidt's carriage creaked open, and four masked figures emerged from the darkness, surrounding Winters and his companions from different directions.

“How interesting. According to the records of the Imperial House of Nobility, the last nobleman whose fief was in Granahsi, the foothills, passed away twelve years ago. His title was Count. If he were still alive, he would be... fifty years old now, wouldn't he?” The man stepped lightly out of the carriage. “Isn’t it interesting, Mr. Granahsi?”

In the dim light, Winters saw the man's face—handsome features, blond hair, and a pair of green eyes.

Even in the dim light, the green-eyed man could see Winters clearly.

The green-eyed man's expression stiffened slightly, his pupils dilated uncontrollably, and he immediately changed his tone, asking, "Who are you? You..."

The green-eyed man didn't finish his sentence because Kaman pounced on him like a leopard.

[These past few days it seems like I've been posting chapters every other day (post-event summary)]
[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)