Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 539 Login (Part 1)

South Palatine
[Kings' Castle]
At dawn, at the Zhuwangbao Wharf, a fleet of ships occupied all the berths on the pier.

Since the start of the civil war, shipping on the Jinliu River has gradually declined.
Gone are the days of countless caravans, large and small, laden with goods from the land of galloping horses, converging on the city of Kings' Castle from all over South Palatine.

We will no longer see merchants from all over the world speaking various dialects and bringing rare and exotic treasures from all corners of the globe.

The Zhuwangbao Wharf was shrouded in gloom and desolation, forcing the dockworkers to seek other ways to make a living.

When the red and blue roses faced off across the river and the civil war entered a stalemate, shipping on the Jinliu River recovered slightly.

Every now and then, you could see a few small boats loaded with wool, tobacco, and pine resin, heading downstream alone as if scouting ahead.

Occasionally, some bold speculators, sensing the potential for profit, would dock at the Upper Kings' Castle docks, laden with wines, sugar, and spices that were becoming increasingly rare and whose prices were skyrocketing.

After all, the Paratians always have surplus items to sell and items they cannot produce to buy.

After the United Provinces River Naval Force, flying the Red Rose flag, defeated the Hongchuan Military Government's fleet and completely controlled the Jinliu River waterway, the Zhuwangbao Wharf even experienced a peak in throughput.

Every merchant in Zhuwangbao who was engaged in export business—whether selling wool, timber, tobacco, tar, or even mushrooms and beeswax—was racing against time to ship their accumulated inventory to downstream customers, even at a loss, in order to clear out their stock.

The trampling of the Paratites allowed the provincial merchants, now free of their mortal enemies, to make a fortune, and also made the Kingsburg Wharf bustling again.

But anyone with eyes can see that this fervor is like the dying man's final burst of energy before death.

As inventory was cleared and the war dragged on, the landowners and farmers throughout Palatine dared not plant cash crops anymore and switched to growing grain for stability. The wharves of the Kings' Castles became completely deserted and never regained their former glory.

Therefore, the arrival of this fleet is all the more precious.

All the dockworkers who were still able to move were brought over. Even those dockworkers who had been conscripted into the city defense battalion were sent over.

The new recruits of the city defense battalion, who were not yet used to carrying muskets and spears, returned to their old profession today.

They were shirtless, carrying sack after sack of wheat, each weighing over a hundred pounds, out of the cabin.

The sun had just risen, and it was still quite cold in the early morning at Zhuwangbao, but the dockworkers were all sweating profusely and panting heavily.

Carrying heavy sacks is much more tiring than carrying matchlock guns or spears, but if given a choice, dockworkers would rather carry 100-pound bags of grain.

As for the Kingsburg docks, the only berth available for crane use was occupied by a large ship that stood out from the crowd.

Unlike other single-deck, flat-bottomed inland river sailboats in the port, the large ship moored under the long arm of the crane has a pointed bow, round body, and large belly, with three masts reaching straight into the sky and a double deck overlooking the dock.

The three masts consist of two long masts and one short mast; the two long masts carry square sails, and the short mast carries triangular sails.

A bow bar extends from below the foremast at the bow, meaning that a triangular sail can be hung at the bow to sail against the wind.

Each of the two decks has a row of holes, which are now closed.

The upper deck has large, widely spaced holes, which are gun ports; the lower deck has smaller, narrower holes, which are oar ports.

This means that it can not only sail with the wind when there is wind, but also be propelled by oars when there is no wind.

Merchant ships on the Jinliu River wouldn't be equipped with so many oars, because even slave oarsmen would be too expensive, and oar positions would take up too much space.

When there is no wind, merchant ships can patiently wait for the wind to come;

Even when encountering rapids and treacherous shoals where manpower was required, merchant ships preferred to use boat trackers rather than oarsmen.

Therefore, without a doubt, the large ship docked in the middle of the pier is a warship.

Furthermore, it was not an inland warship built for slow navigation in waterways, but a coastal warship built for cutting through the waves of the open sea.

The Palatine people on the dock couldn't help but cast curious glances at the warship.

It was quite a sight to see ships that originally sailed in the "big bathtub" of the inland sea in the "little bathtub" harbor of Kingsburg.

However, the heavily armed men from the United Provinces surrounding the berth deterred the Paratul from getting a closer look.

The soldiers of the United Provinces guarded the warship vigilantly, not allowing any Parathu to approach. They even operated the cranes themselves, without using the Parathu dockworkers to unload the ship.

Not only the berth where this warship was docked, but in fact the entire port was sealed off by the United Province soldiers who went ashore with the ship, prohibiting unauthorized personnel from entering or leaving.

"Up! Up! Turn around! Okay! Turn to me! Stop! Stop! Put it down!"

A middle-aged officer in an artillery uniform stood beside a crane, sleeves rolled up, waving his cap up and down and shouting at the top of his lungs, directing the crane to lift a full tray of small wooden barrels from the cargo hold of the warship.

"Let go! Keep letting go! Let go! Okay! That's enough! Slow down! Stop! Stop! Stop now—"

It could be because the crane at the Kingsburg dock had been idle for too long and lacked maintenance and lubrication; or it could be because the operator was new and not yet familiar with the crane's characteristics.

In short, the tray full of small wooden buckets did not land smoothly, but instead slammed heavily on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The small wooden buckets on the tray also bounced a bit; if they weren't covered by a net, they would definitely take off.

The middle-aged artillery officer didn't even have time to swear. He immediately rushed to the tray, making sure the small wooden barrels weren't damaged and their contents hadn't leaked, before he started cursing at the crane:
"You bastards! Are you out of your minds?! This is gunpowder! Not your ashes! Do you want us all to be buried with your stupidity? How could I have raised such a bunch of idiots..."

Beside the crane's winch, three artillery officers, who had been thoroughly scolded, looked dejected. They had been thrown into the job and were already doing a great job of getting this heavy machine working in a hurry.

But artillery officers don't understand them—when your superior is not only your superior but also your teacher, and has a bad temper, it's a nightmare.

"Lieutenant Colonel Montecoccoli."

A polite greeting interrupted the lieutenant colonel's incessant rant.

The middle-aged officer turned around and saw a young man, also dressed in an officer's uniform, raising his hand in salute.

Montecoli returned the greeting perfunctorily, squinted, and asked coldly, "Is there something you need, Major Fritz?"

Fritz was already used to his colleagues' indifferent attitude towards him.

As a major threat to the United Provinces Army, the old United Provinces Civilian Government, although it was never able to extend its reach into the Army General Staff, had considerable influence over the Army Province from the very beginning.

The United Provinces Army Province is almost equivalent to the United Army Committee.

The Allied Army Committee was responsible for stamping the promotion lists submitted by the various republics...

Through this relationship, the old federal civilian government deliberately suppressed the promotion of federal military officers, regarding it as a weapon to attack the military, a condition for winning over officers, and a bargaining chip in negotiations with the army.

Therefore, the United Provincial Army had no shortage of officers who had languished at the same level for many years. Consequently, quite a few became disheartened and retired in disappointment.

The veterans certainly wouldn't be happy to see Fritz, that "lucky" young man from Nice—even though he fired the first shot at the enemy, even though they were all in the same trench now.

Fritz appeared humble, but his tone was firm and forceful.

He relayed the order verbatim: "Lieutenant Colonel, the commander wants you to 'prioritize preparing the artillery'."

"Weren't the cannons already taken down?" Montecoli crossed his arms and pointed with his chin at the dozens of "pipes" of varying thicknesses neatly arranged not far away.

Under the rising sun, the bronze "tube" gleamed with a luster similar to gold.

Fritz explained humbly, "The commander means that he hopes you can restore the artillery to a mobile state as soon as possible."

"The cannon carriages are all inside the hold. How can we get them out without moving other things first? Besides, what's the use of just mounting the cannons? The draft horses are still on the ship! Without horses, will you pull the cannons, or will I?"

Montecoli frowned and impatiently dismissed the major, "Wait a minute, let me unload the ammunition first, and then I'll 'prepare the cannon' for you."

“I’ll take care of the draft horses. You don’t need to restore all the cannons to their original state; just a few will suffice.” Fritz remained composed, still maintaining his polite demeanor. But clearly, his resolve had not wavered in the slightest.

Major Fritz further explained Cornelius's instructions, "I guess the commander thinks we might need them very soon."

"Right away?" Montecuccoli asked suspiciously, but he quickly realized where it was meant. The lieutenant colonel seemed to understand and unconsciously let out an "Oh." Then he looked at Fritz and chuckled a few times.

Montecoli was convinced that the minister's instructions were still a long way from being life-or-death, and that it didn't matter whether the cannon was ready or not.

However, after looking the major up and down, he realized that this kid wouldn't give up until he achieved his goal.

“Alright,” Montecuccoli replied casually, “I’ll try.”

Fritz knew that was enough.

Because when others say "I will try my best," it may just be an excuse.

However, when Raymond Montecouccoli, the former head of the Artillery Department at the Army Officer School, said "I tried my best," it meant that the task entrusted to him could be considered complete.

Fritz gave a respectful salute and left without hesitation.

Behind him came the booming voice of the former artillery section chief, lecturing his students: "What are you all standing there for? Get moving! Forget the shells, find the gun mounts first! Which ones? Do you even need to ask? Find the big ones!"

After persuading Lieutenant Colonel Montecuccoli, Fritz immediately approached the fleet manager and arranged for the barges transporting draft horses to dock first.

Then he approached the port manager and coordinated the berths and pilot boats.

Finally, he borrowed a lieutenant from Lieutenant Colonel Montecochli and arranged for the latter to liaise with the port authority to ensure that the artillery could immediately take the draft horses away when the barges carrying them docked.

After doing all this, Fritz returned to the two-story building of the port tax office. He strode up to the roof, where the former head of the Army Academy was waiting for him.

"All done?" Cornelius asked without turning his head, standing by the wall on the rooftop.

Fritz walked over to the minister and cautiously replied, "Montecuccoli has agreed to prepare four to six heavy artillery pieces."

“That’s enough,” Cornelius gestured to the students, “Come and see.”

Fritz stood beside the Minister. From the rooftop of the tax office, the entire port area of ​​Kingsburg was laid out before them.

Unlike Fritz, who was accustomed to seaports in the piedmont region, the port of Kingsburg, as an inland river port, had no breakwater or natural headland; it consisted of several piers extending from the straight riverbank into the water. A lighthouse stood at the entrance to the port area, like a solitary shepherd watching over his sheepfold.

However, precisely because of this, the docks of Kingsburg are much more spacious than those along the inner sea coast. There are almost no obvious topographical limitations as far as the eye can see. It can extend indefinitely to both sides as needed.

Moreover, in terms of liveliness, the Zhuwangbao Wharf is no less bustling than the port of Guitu City at this moment.

The entire port area is now bustling with people and ships, a scene of great activity. As soon as one ship is emptied, another ship immediately takes its place.

Sacks and barrels bearing the insignia of the United Provinces Army were carried by hand and shoulder off the pier, then immediately loaded onto trucks and sent to the warehouse.

The wooden crates containing military equipment were temporarily piled up on the dock, awaiting centralized transport.

In the open space in front of the tax bureau building, a large battalion of provincial infantrymen were assembling and forming ranks under the military flag, listening to slogans.

Because they had just disembarked, many soldiers were not yet used to it; their steps were unsteady and their faces were a little pale.

But at a glance, you can tell that these soldiers, carrying armor, weapons and packs, are all great young men. With just a little rest, they can be full of energy again.

"Are you a little disappointed that you didn't get to lead troops on the front lines?" Cornelius patted the wall and suddenly asked, "I personally recruited you, yet I only gave you the position of Quartermaster General. You originally thought you finally had a chance to prove yourself on the battlefield, right?"

“The Quartermaster General bears a heavy responsibility,” Fritz did not answer directly. “Besides, I am a soldier, and obeying orders is my duty. I will go to whichever position you assign me.”

Cornelius chuckled. "I'm still a little unhappy, aren't I?"

Fritz fell silent.

Cornelius gazed at the chaotic docks of Kingsburg, took a deep breath, and said with a mix of sigh and instruction, "Logistics is of paramount importance for any army, especially for a small force like ours isolated on enemy territory. Therefore, the position of Quartermaster General must be entrusted to a reliable and capable person. Do you understand?"

Fritz bowed slightly. "I have learned something from you."

Cornelius glanced at Fritz's expression, smiled, and shook his head. "I've seen that expression of yours far too many times back at the Army Academy... You listen but don't take it to heart, you agree verbally but you're not convinced. But it's nothing, I was the same way when I was young."

Fritz paused for a moment, then said, “There are many predecessors who are more capable than I am.”

“My choice of you means I believe you are more suitable for this position than anyone else.” Cornelius waved his hand decisively. “Let me tell you something else. Besides managing weapons, ammunition, food, and clothing, the Quartermaster General has another important responsibility. Do you know what it is?”

Please explain.

Cornelius's gaze sharpened. "Manage the money!" he said emphatically.

Fritz was both amused and exasperated.

“Don’t laugh yet,” Cornelius said, his expression turning serious. He took out a gold coin, held it out in his palm, and asked the cadet, “Major, what do you see?”

“One provincial gold coin,” Fritz answered truthfully.

“Yes, but that’s not all.” Cornelius picked up the gold coin and held it up in the sunlight. “Do you know that one of these gold coins can buy almost twice the amount of flour in the market of Kingsburg today, compared to what it could buy three years ago?”

Fritz was surprised.

Cornelius glanced at the student. "You still haven't looked at the materials I gave you carefully."

Fritz had nothing to say and could only bow his head and admit his mistake.

But Cornelius wasn't there to check the homework. He continued, "Do you think this is a good thing or a bad thing?"

“I thought that since the Plato Wars began, grain prices should have been rising steadily,” Fritz said, puzzled. “But according to you, a gold coin can actually buy more flour? That… should be a good thing?”

"You're right, the price of grain in Kings' Castle is indeed rising. But at the same time, you can buy more things with gold. Can you guess why?"

Fritz couldn't answer.

Cornelius withdrew the gold coin from his palm, his expression tinged with cruelty. "Because today, Palatine is experiencing the most severe gold and silver shortage since the alliance's inception. That's why we're seeing the strange phenomenon of rising prices, where gold can actually buy more things. Looking back at history, perhaps only the imperial era, when 250,000 ducats were siphoned off every year, can compare to today."

Fritz found it a little hard to digest at first, but Cornelius never cared whether his students could understand his lectures.

“Any gold coin is more valuable in Palatine than in the United Provinces,” Cornelius said firmly. “Therefore, gold will be our most effective weapon in Palatine, even more powerful than swords and guns.”

Cornelius patted the student on the shoulder. “So here, the weapons under the Quartermaster General’s command are more powerful than those under the Artillery General’s command—that’s why I appointed you as Quartermaster General.”

"I..." Fritz didn't know what to say.

A messenger ran up to the roof and handed Cornelius a letter.

Cornelius opened the letter, read it quickly, and sneered, "Grove Magnus has arrived, bringing with him the 'honorable gentlemen' of Kingsburg to welcome us."

"Should I go and refuse him?" Fritz asked, frowning.

“No!” Cornelius shook his head, laughing. “Of course not!”

As the sun rose, Cornelius's orders, like rolling thunder, echoed across the docks of Kingsburg:

"Sharpen your armor! Fire the cannons! Let everyone know that the Allied forces are back!"

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