I run a casino in the immortal realm.

Zheng Yifei allocated a separate and spacious side courtyard behind the General's Mansion to Murong Hao as his exclusive weapon-refining workshop.

This place was originally a garden used by successive generals to entertain distinguished guests. Now, all those precious flowers and plants have been uprooted and leveled into a large area of ​​hard ground.

Starting from the early morning of the second day, muffled explosions could be heard intermittently from this secluded courtyard.

Each explosion was accompanied by a plume of black smoke rising from above the courtyard wall, and the pungent smell of saltpeter and sulfur drifted with the wind to every corner of the General's Mansion.

The servants in the general's mansion were initially terrified, thinking that orcs had invaded.

But they soon discovered that after each explosion, a burst of hearty laughter would come from the side courtyard.

Zheng Yifei sat in the White Tiger Hall handling military affairs, ignoring the commotion in the backyard.

He wasn't worried that the explosives would hurt Murong Hao. The black powder wasn't very powerful. For a Void Refinement Realm expert who had mastered the laws of heaven and earth and had a strong physical body, it would at most soil his clothes and blacken his face, but it wouldn't cause any real harm.

Besides the explosions, the sound of blacksmithing echoed in the side courtyard from morning till night.

The dozen or so disciples who came with Murong Hao from Liuhua County were all weapon refiners of the third rank or above.

Under Murong Hao's command, they set up more than a dozen large furnaces and smelted pig iron day and night.

Zheng Yifei had been there once. The side courtyard was sweltering. Murong Hao, shirtless, was explaining something to his apprentices with great enthusiasm, holding a fist-sized iron lump covered with grid-like grooves.

"This grenade's casing must be made of cast iron, not wrought iron. Cast iron is brittle, so it will shatter into regular pieces when it explodes! The casing thickness must be uniform; it can't be thin on one side and thick on the other, otherwise the impact force will all leak out through the thinner part!"

As Murong Hao spoke, he pointed to a small hole at the top of the iron lump: "This hole is used to hold the fuse. Lord Zheng's fuse is made of cotton thread soaked in kerosene, which is too easy to get damp and the burning speed is difficult to control."

I made a modification: I mixed the powder of the firestone into the cotton thread, and then wrapped it with a layer of waterproof fish glue.

This not only makes it impervious to water, but also ensures a very stable burning rate; from ignition to the burning penetrating the interior, it takes exactly three breaths.

Zheng Yifei walked over, picked up a finished empty grenade casing and looked at it. The workmanship was very rough, and you could even see the rough edges left during the casting process. But that was exactly the effect he wanted. Roughness meant that it could be mass-produced without regard to cost.

"How many can you make in a day?"

Zheng Yifei asked.

"This thing doesn't require any technical skill; you don't need to inscribe complex array patterns. You can just cast it using a mold."

Murong Hao wiped the sweat from his face. The once otherworldly master craftsman now looked like an old blacksmith in a black kiln: "I had my apprentices carve fifty sets of molds overnight. As long as the iron supply is sufficient, making two thousand a day is not a problem."

"Alright, Xu Qian will provide plenty of iron. What about landmines and artillery?"

Zheng Yifei put down the grenade casing.

Murong Hao walked to the corner of the courtyard, lifted a piece of oilcloth, and underneath were two flat iron boxes and an iron pipe that was eight feet long and as thick as a thigh.

"Landmines are relatively simple."

Murong Hao pointed to a protruding pedal on the iron box: "I made a lever mechanism with two flints inside. As long as you step on this pedal, the mechanism will cause the flints to rub violently, and the sparks will fall directly into the gunpowder chamber at the bottom."

I've tried it, and it explodes every ten times. I've built over a hundred already.

At this point, Murong Hao patted the thick iron pipe next to him and frowned slightly: "But the cannon is a bit troublesome. The blueprints you gave require the bottom to be sealed, with only a small hole for ignition, and iron balls to be launched from the front."

Yesterday I made one to test it out. If there wasn't enough gunpowder, the iron ball wouldn't fly far; if there was too much gunpowder, the enormous thrust directly shattered the iron pipe.

Barrel explosion was the most fatal problem for early artillery.

Zheng Yifei understood that the ductility and strength of pig iron were insufficient to withstand the extreme high pressure generated by gunpowder in a confined space.

"So how did you solve it?"

Zheng Yifei looked at the intact iron pipe in front of him.

Murong Hao grinned, revealing a set of white teeth: "Pure ordinary ironware won't do, so I'll use the techniques of weapon forging. I've mixed 10% black iron into the pig iron to increase its toughness."

Then, inside the cannon barrel and at the breech, three fourth-order 'solidification array patterns' and one 'heat-conducting array pattern' were inscribed with spiritual fire.

This increased the strength of the cannon barrel tenfold and also allowed it to quickly dissipate the high temperatures of the burning gunpowder.

In addition, I added spirit stone powder to the gunpowder, which multiplied the explosive power several times over.

"Has it been test-fired?"

"Not yet, I'm preparing for the test."

Murong Hao turned to his disciples and shouted, "Take cannon number one out to the wasteland outside the city!"

Half an hour later, at an abandoned quarry outside the west gate of Shenzhen.

A cannon weighing 700 jin was fixed to a hastily made iron gun carriage.

Murong Hao personally directed the process, stuffing two packets of gunpowder wrapped in oiled paper into the muzzle of the cannon and tamping them down with a long wooden stick.

Next, a solid iron ball that perfectly matches the diameter of the cannon's muzzle was placed in and tamped down again.

Then, Murong Hao inserted a specially made fuse into the ignition port at the breech of the cannon.

"Step back."

Murong Hao waved his hand, signaling his disciples to step back, and then took a tinderbox and went over.

After lighting the fuse, Murong Hao flashed away and retreated to Zheng Yifei's side.

"Hiss hiss hiss—"

The fuse burned rapidly, and sparks entered the breech.

"boom!"

A deafening roar shook the quarry. A jet of intense, orange-red flame, two meters long, spewed from the muzzle, accompanied by thick white smoke. The heavy cannon, under the immense recoil, lurched backward three feet, carving two deep furrows in the ground.

Zheng Yifei squinted and stared ahead.

One hundred and fifty feet away, a blue stone about ten feet high and weighing tens of thousands of pounds on the mountainside suddenly exploded with a "bang", sending fragments flying everywhere and stone dust flying everywhere.

When the smoke and dust cleared, the hard bluestone had broken in two, with the deformed iron ball deeply embedded in the broken edge, surrounded by cracks.

The ten apprentices gasped in shock.

At a distance of 150 zhang, without any fluctuation of spiritual energy, such a large piece of bluestone was broken by pure physical impact.

If this were fired into a densely packed orc formation, its penetrating power would be enough to pierce through ten heavily armored orcs like a string of candied hawthorns.

"How's the cannon barrel?"

Zheng Yifei was more concerned about the stability of the weapon.

Murong Hao stepped forward to inspect it, touched the temperature of the cannon barrel, and nodded in satisfaction: "After engraving the array patterns, the cannon barrel is intact, without even any signs of deformation. The heat-conducting array patterns are also working, so we can fire ten more shots without stopping to cool it down."

"very good."

Looking at this primitive yet incredibly powerful cannon, Zheng Yifei felt even more confident: "Within five days, I want to see twenty cannons like this. In addition, the shells should be filled with gunpowder and broken iron nails, with a hole for a delay fuse."

"Calculate the distance perfectly, so that the shells explode above the enemy's heads or in the middle of their formation—that's what makes a weapon of mass destruction, understand?"

Murong Hao's eyes lit up, as if a door to a new world had been opened: "Understood! This is called a 'blooming bomb.' Don't worry, leave it to me!"

With the confidence gained from weaponry, Zheng Yifei turned his attention to building up the army.

The drill ground of the northern camp in Pengcheng was bustling with noise.

Pang Xun, dressed in the armor of a military officer, sat imposingly before the command platform.

Beside him stood ten large, open camphor wood chests, filled with gleaming silver coins.

This is a recruitment order jointly issued by Gongsun Zhi and Pang Xun.

After gaining complete control of the North City Camp, Pang Xun incorporated all the old, weak, sick, and disabled people into the logistics camp to be responsible for transporting supplies.

The remaining three thousand elite soldiers, after the battle of Wanhun Valley, not only received a generous reward, but also truly experienced what it means to "get rich by killing enemies" by hunting down the orc Zuo Er.

The soldiers returned to the city, drinking and boasting in the taverns with their hefty rewards. The great victory at the Ten Thousand Souls Valley ambush and the General's generous rewards spread like wildfire throughout Pengcheng.

The once lifeless city of Shenzhen was instantly ignited.

"Recruiting soldiers! Ages 17 to 35, all able-bodied. Anyone who can draw this 50-pound bow will receive a settlement allowance of 15 silver coins on the spot!"

After enlisting, I received three full meals a day, with meat at every meal, and my military pay was paid in full every month.

On the battlefield, kill an orc and you'll be rewarded with ten taels of silver! For those killed in battle, the compensation will be paid directly to their families, guaranteed by the General's Office, with no deductions allowed!

The officer in charge of recruitment stood at the entrance of the training ground, holding a tin megaphone and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Outside the training ground, the queue had already turned three corners.

Not only the able-bodied young people in the city, but also many refugees who had fled here joined the group.