Imperial Crown.

Chapter 9 Sir, is this alchemy?

"Hey--!"

On the castle wall, Weston threw a stone from a distance, and it landed in the yard with a thud.

A private soldier was so frightened that he lost his concentration. Eric, who came over immediately, whipped him three times: "What are you looking at? You are in the queue now. The training ground is the battlefield! Will you look around like this when you are on the battlefield in the future? Hold your guns!"

After saying that, Eric raised his head, looked at Weston with a gloomy look, and continued to train the team.

After he turned around, Weisdon made a big face and then laughed out loud.

Vesdon has been very happy lately.

Not only because I can escape the boring lessons of private tutors, but most importantly, I can see all kinds of jokes.

Raven's training process can be said to be the source of his happiness. He never gets tired of watching it, and there are new things every day.

For example, on the second day of training, early in the morning, those private soldiers stood in the yard, with their chests and heads held high, and it looked like it was really going on.

As a result, their true colors were revealed as soon as the drill began. With just one slogan, "Look to the right," the twelve heads in a class could turn in eight different directions!

Raven was also very creative. He asked the serfs to put their left leather shoes on their right hands and start marching in place. He even invented a slogan: "Cowhide on the right, human skin on the left!"

What surprised Visdon even more was that those humanoid beasts could actually shout out such a slogan that had no aesthetic appeal.

The thing he was most proud of was to interject "The bull's skin is on the left, the human skin is on the right" when they were shouting slogans.

The effect is very good. Just one shout can make these people mess around for most of the day.

But he only shouted that once.

Because Raven's punch was very effective, his left eye was swollen for three days.

I didn't expect that in just these three days, those guys who were originally like animals could really tell left from right.

And just for this simple achievement, Raven was willing to buy a sheep as a snack for them, and he roasted it himself!

The aroma was so appetizing that just smelling it made Weston lose his appetite for the bacon in his hand. But the damn Raven didn't even give him meat, but only two bones.

This is simply an insult to him!

Although the bones are really fragrant...

After distinguishing the left and right, according to Raven, these soldiers will be put through "queue training."

To put it in detail, it means letting these people line up in columns in groups, and then start marching while maintaining the formation.

This time, without waiting for them to make any mistakes, Raven found a solution immediately. He got three sticks, five or six meters long, from somewhere and asked these people to lift the sticks and hold them in their hands, and keep the amplitude of the sticks consistent when walking.

There is no need for Visdon to interfere in this part. Just these guys holding the sticks and moving around are having a lot of fun.

As soon as Eric shouted "Go", two of the three sticks flew out and almost hit Raven; another one did not go up to the sky, but directly stuck into the ground, and scratched the fingers of two private soldiers.

It took two days just to be able to walk with the pole, and then there were all kinds of troubles.

Some people only focused on the movements of their hands and forgot to move their legs, and ended up being dragged on the ground; some people swung both hands together and hit the crotch of the person behind them and then started a fight; some people were so nervous that they jumped up while walking...

There are so many tricks, there is nothing they can't do, except what people can't think of.

Sometimes, Weisdon would even forget to eat, and his whole mind was immersed in it - it was much more fun than watching a circus.

This fun lasted until two days ago, which was the eighth day of training, because the next part was the very boring "military posture" segment.

Led by Eric, these people wore full leather armor, held spears in their hands, and stood there straight. Anyone who did not stand straight or whose spear was crooked would be whipped immediately.

And at this time, Raven also went into the kitchen. No one knew what he was busy with. In short, no one could see him except the chef.

This was also the most boring time for Visdon, but he soon found a new way to play.

Since Raven was not around, no one could take care of him. He would yell and scream around the soldiers, deliberately distracting them, and then be beaten by Eric until he cried for his parents!

Seeing them being beaten so hard that they couldn't even cry, Weisdon felt extremely happy.

So enjoyable!
They deserve it! They were made private soldiers for Raven, the guy who stole my title. They should suffer!
Who are you going to bully today?
With a wicked smile on his face, Visdon grabbed a prepared stone in his hand and selected his target from a high position.

He had carefully selected this stone. It was about the size of a cantaloupe and had a round shape. It could definitely be thrown very far and would not just make a loud noise to scare people like in the previous times.

That big guy? Too dumb, no fun. That white-haired guy? Too ugly, no sense of accomplishment... Got it!
His eyes were fixed on a handsome young man with light blond, naturally curly hair.

It's him!

He is clearly a low-class person but looks better than me, and he is even appointed as the "squad leader" commanding twelve people. This is really intolerable!
Just because he disliked Simon, Visdon deliberately targeted the people in his class, resulting in the training results not meeting expectations. Just last night, he was punished by not being allowed to eat dinner, and stood in the yard with a gun until late at night. His sister came to visit him, but she went back crying.

As a result, instead of looking down on him, the people in his class respected him even more. What's the logic behind this? ?

Today, I will show you a nice one that will make your face blossom!
Thinking of this, Weisdon slightly spread his legs, exerted all his strength, and threw the stone in his hand out!
Eric turned around when he heard the sound of the wind, but it was too late to stop it: "Simon, squat down!"

Simon was about to move, but he hesitated and did not dodge. The stone hit his head with a bang. Blood flowed down the gaps in his leather helmet, dyeing his face red, and then he fell down limply.

Eric rushed over and hugged the man in his arms, and asked nervously: "How is it? Can you talk? Is there anything wrong? "

"No...it's okay...Sir!" Simon's lips trembled as he said weakly, "I just...feel a little...dizzy..."

"You clearly heard it just now, why didn't you dodge!?" Eric asked.

Simon coughed softly: "Because, if I dodge... I will hurt my comrades..."

Hearing this, Eric's eyes were immediately filled with anger. He raised his head and looked at the city wall: "Wesdon! Get down here!"

Weisdong was startled, then he stiffened his neck and shouted: "I am from the Griffith family, you have no right to deal with me!"

Then he muttered in a low voice: "Just a pariah...what's the big deal..."

Eric's lips trembled. "Everyone stand still and rest. Goyle, go and invite Priest Lux over. Link, go and invite Master Vesdon down to me. Don't let him leave before I come back!"

As he said that, Eric picked up Simon and returned to the castle, placing him in a guest room. As soon as he took off the leather helmet on Simon's head, a bloody wound as big as a walnut was revealed as blood gushed out.

"Huh..." Eric breathed a sigh of relief and began to bandage Simon's wound.

Simon is his favorite among this group of private soldiers. He is quick-witted, smart, simple and loyal. He can carry out any order well and attaches great importance to comradeship. You can completely trust him with your back on the battlefield.

Fortunately, the wound was not fatal, otherwise it would have been a pity.

After a simple bandage, Eric walked through the hall and came to the kitchen. The moment his hand touched the door, he hesitated. Should I really disturb Lord Raven with this matter?

After all, Visdon is his brother in name only. Will he handle this matter impartially?
After a brief hesitation, he pushed the door open, and was almost choked back by the smoke.

What is this smell!?
The stench of cows and pigs, the pungent sour smell, and an indescribable smell like dirt in a belly button made Eric's tears flow all over his face.

Poirot, the cook, came up and closed the door, then handed a wet linen cloth to Eric, who quickly covered his nose with it. Only then did he feel alive again, and asked in a muffled voice, "Where is Lord Raven?"

Poirot pointed to the stove. "Yes, it is right there."

There was indeed a person squatting in front of the stove. He was wearing a chef's robe that had been yellowed by smoke and his face was covered with a thick layer of gauze. He was holding a large wooden spoon and slowly stirring something in an oak basin.

Eric rubbed his eyes and said, "Is this Lord Raven?"

"It is absolutely true," said Poirot, with a hint of disapproval. "If anyone else had done this in the kitchen, I would have thrown him out long ago!"

Finally finding an outlet to vent his anger, Poirot began to complain incessantly: "Master Eric, Master Raven is really going too far!"

"I saved the best lard and butter little by little to make delicious food, but he actually wasted them all!"

He pointed to the pile of stuff in the corner and said, "Thirty kilograms of lard and fifty kilograms of butter turned into this junk!"

Following his finger, Eric was shocked.

What the heck are these!?

They were piled up in the corner, some gray, some black, some yellow, with a wrinkled surface and some places had continuous cracked lines. It looked like a big pool of... shit!

Lord Raven has such a healthy stomach! ?
"He said it's something called... oh yeah, the stuff that the rich people in the city use, it's called soap! Although I don't go to Mon's Grace City very often, I go to Shining Gold Town very often, so I know it!"

Poirot walked over, grabbed a piece of soap and put it in front of Eric: "Other people's soaps are transparent, and they make your skin clean after washing, but smell it, what's this smell!?"

After he said that, Eric also felt that this thing was indeed somewhat similar to soap. He moved the gauze covering his mouth and took a light sip. His eyes froze for a moment, and then he moved the gauze back at lightning speed.

In this brief moment, he seemed to have put his nose into a pile of cow dung, and there were at least six cows running happily in his mind.

Eric was filled with doubts.

Two days ago, Raven said he had found a way to get rich, and then he went into the kitchen. Could this be it?

Although soap was easy to use, its sales were actually very poor. A palm-sized piece cost fifty copper coins, which was unaffordable for ordinary families.

Even if Raven found a way to make soap and solved the problem of the foul smell, Eagle Town currently did not have enough manpower.

If it is a small workshop-style production, the profit will probably be very limited, with a profit of about a dozen gold coins a year being enough, which is not worth investing so much time at all.

Eric was about to step forward to persuade them when he saw Raven glance at him and said, "If no one is killed, wait until I'm done."

Raven has always known Eric's calmness, but what he has to do now is so important that he cannot afford to be distracted at all.

The lump of stuff in the corner was indeed soap, but that was not Raven's ultimate goal.

At this time, he was stirring a basin of lime water. The main component of quicklime is calcium oxide, which reacts with water to produce calcium hydroxide.

Raven seemed to have returned to the chemistry experiment class in his previous life, pouring quicklime into the basin in small amounts and multiple times. He would pause for a moment after each addition and wait for the temperature in the basin to drop slightly before continuing.

The reaction of quicklime and water will release a lot of heat, and he doesn't want the situation to explode at this time.

With the accumulation of the previous two days, Raven was already familiar with this step. Then, under Poirot's hateful gaze, he picked up a can of baking soda and poured it in little by little, stirring as he poured.

Baking soda, also known as sodium bicarbonate.

It was not until half of the basin of liquid turned into a turbid texture like mud that he slowly stopped and carefully took out an open glass flask from under the table.

Due to the needs of magic and alchemical experiments, glass already existed in this world, but most of it was of low purity and contained a lot of impurities. Most of the glass used in the windows of Eagle Castle was made of this inferior product.

The higher-purity glass used to make the flask is very valuable. Although it only has a capacity of one liter, its price is a staggering two gold coins. Together with the funnel, separator, and fifty sheets of filter paper, the total price is as high as five gold coins, and it is not in stock yet.

Raven had only started working on it two days ago, just to wait for it.

"Calcium hydroxide, mixed with sodium bicarbonate, heated to produce sodium hydroxide..." Raven muttered words that only he could understand, but his movements were extremely methodical.

First, place a cast iron pot on the stove and pour half of water into it; then place a deep ceramic plate in it and add a certain amount of water. Then place the flask in it and add the mixed liquid in the wooden basin into the flask until it is about two-thirds full.

The stoves of this era could not control the temperature so conveniently, and Raven was not an expert in chemistry. This was done to prevent the flask from exploding due to excessive heat.

Where are these two gold coins? I dare not let them go bad!
Staring at the reaction in the flask, Raven shouted, "Poirot, go watch that pot over there, don't let the lard get burnt again!"

"I'm a chef, how come I can't even make lard properly!" Poirot complained in a low voice, but he still walked to the stove next to him and continued to make lard.

The liquid in the flask gradually boiled, producing tiny and dense bubbles. Some white debris could also be seen separating from the liquid and falling to the bottom of the flask - that was calcium carbonate produced by the reaction of calcium hydroxide and sodium carbonate.

Raven stared closely until there was no more new calcium carbonate staring at him, then he quickly brought out the ceramic plate and placed it on the table, then turned around and asked, "How's the lard?"

"It is ready, sir," said Poirot in a simple voice.

"Then take it out first, don't overcook it." Raven instructed, and took out a funnel and a conical flask, put filter paper on the funnel, and carefully poured the liquid on the top of the open flask into it with a wooden spoon.

After filtering, a bottle of turbid liquid slowly turned into half a bottle of extremely clear solution, which looked no different from water.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Eric was a little confused. He walked forward and stretched out his hand to touch it.

"Don't move!" Raven's voice suddenly became sharp. "You are not allowed to touch anything here without my permission!"

The main component of the liquid in the open flask is sodium hydroxide, which is commonly known as caustic soda.

Its corrosiveness is no less than that of sulfuric acid!
"Poirot, bring the lard over here," Raven ordered.

Eric was now very curious and took the lard from Poirot and put it on the table.

Raven gently pushed the man aside, holding the conical flask in one hand and the wooden spoon in the other, he poured the sodium bicarbonate in little by little, poured in a little, and began to stir.

"Oh——" Eric exclaimed, because a magical scene appeared right in front of him.

As the liquid in the flask fell into the hot oil bit by bit, tiny brown-yellow particles condensed from it. At first they looked like dust, but as more liquid was poured in, the yellow particles became more and more numerous and denser, eventually turning into something like goose feathers that sank to the bottom of the barrel.

"Sir, is this the legendary alchemy?"

……

(End of this chapter)