Magic, steel, heavy industry

Chapter 49 Gunpowder and Alchemists

At night, further north on the north bank, a group of emaciated refugees, resembling beggars, gathered in a camp.

The cold winds from the northern ice fields kept blowing south, eroding their will. They could only huddle around the fire, drawing on the meager warmth.

The nutritional status of these people can only be described as terrible; some are even reduced to skin and bones. To prevent energy loss, they are unwilling to say even a single word.

This terrible state of health was inextricably linked to the hardships they had endured on their journey. No one could believe that they had actually traveled all the way from the distant East, crossing the treacherous Stag Mountains, to get here.

The war refugees of Casalan, in order to escape those terrifying warlords, chose a path of death that could be described as hell.

At this moment, a group of people were patrolling the camp. They were the best-fitting group in the team and naturally became the leaders. However, when faced with their companions who were starving to death, their faces showed only numbness and confusion.

"Mad Cat, at this rate, none of us will survive the coming winter. What was the point of us crossing that damned jungle to get here?" a man murmured in despair.

The man he called Mad Cat was a 25-year-old youth. He wore thin, tattered leather armor, held a standard military machete, and had a pair of gloomy, cold blue eyes beneath his messy hair.

All these characteristics prove that he was a Casalan deserter, a man who had truly experienced the baptism of war.

He didn't answer directly, but instead looked intently southward.

"Let me wait two more days and think about it..."

Yes, some people have already started thinking about attacking the territory on the south bank; after all, they have no choice but to live.

But Mad Cat, as the leader, didn't want that. He knew what war was like; it would kill many people, many innocent people.

If we could discuss it with the lord over there, perhaps it wouldn't have come to that.

Just as he was gazing into the darkness, suddenly, flames lit up in the distance. He was stunned for a moment, then realized what was happening.

"There are enemies!"

With his angry shout, everyone tensed up, and the men who could still move stood up, ready to defend their camp.

Soon, the torches drew near, their synchronized steps like thunder, pressing down on everyone's mental defenses.

"No... how is this possible... this is the army..."

Mad Cat was the most shocked. He had been a soldier and knew what such footsteps meant, but the more he saw them, the less he could believe it.

Why would the army come to deal with these refugees?

He gripped the knife tightly, his heart pounding with increasing tension.

When the other party revealed their true colors, a dark cloud settled over his heart.

In the firelight, an exceptionally elite army was revealed. All of them were strong young men, holding spears, and their ranks were more orderly than he could comprehend.

"Who are you people?!"

Mad Cat spoke up instinctively; he didn't want a fight to break out without any reason.

Soon, a middle-aged man dressed in a gentleman's suit, exuding elegance, stepped out from the opposing group.

"I am Lord Vilan's advisor. You can call me Llorente. We mean no harm. We are just here to mine some sulfur, from those yellowish-brown clods of soil next to you."

"what?"

……

It wasn't until noon the next day that Vilan received Llorente's report.

Last night's mining operation went much more smoothly than expected. They didn't have any conflict with the group of Casalan refugees at all. After explaining their purpose, the other party voluntarily made way for them.

Therefore, the guard and the stonemasons and miners who were temporarily conscripted collected a lot of raw sulfur ore and transported it back in baskets.

This open-pit sulfur mine is quite large, and the veins are almost exposed on the surface, making it easy to dig out a lot of ore.

Vilan was very excited when he heard the news.

Now that all the raw materials for gunpowder have been gathered, his research can finally begin.

That's right, all he wanted to do was make the simplest gunpowder.

Of course, the so-called formula of one part sulfur, two parts saltpeter, and three parts charcoal is definitely not acceptable. He vaguely remembered that as gunpowder developed, there was an optimal ratio.

Vilan told Llorente to go back and rest, while he stayed alone in the study, hunched over his desk, carefully recalling the events.

"The optimal ratio of nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal should be 7:1.5:1.5."

"However, since we haven't found an alchemist, and the stonemasons' rudimentary skills mean the raw materials are definitely not pure enough, and the proportions might not be accurate, never mind, let's try a few more times."

As he muttered to himself, Vilan sketched a square cloth bag on a draft.

If someone who frequently watches TV dramas stood next to him, they would immediately recognize him as a walking bomb!

That's right, Vilan wasn't naive enough to think he could make muskets and cannons right away. His most direct way of using gunpowder right now was to make explosives.

The principle behind this thing is ridiculously simple, and the manufacturing threshold is extremely low—a few pottery jars, cloth bags, or even thick leather can become containers.

By filling explosive charges with fragments of rock, nails, steel balls, etc., they can produce extremely strong destructive power.

"If red magic powder is added to the gunpowder formula, the effect should be greatly enhanced."

"The key part is the lead wire; we need to think about that carefully."

……

Vilan drew blueprints about gunpowder with great concentration, leaving many questions on them that he didn't know how to answer. Then he rushed off to the stonemason's workshop.

Since no alchemists have been recruited yet, the task of manufacturing gunpowder has to be temporarily handed over to the stonemason workshop, along with Vilan himself.

Of course, this was an extremely dangerous process, and Vilan dared not do it himself; he could only direct the stonemason apprentices to do it.

First, there was the preparation of raw materials. Charcoal was easy to obtain, but the amount of saltpeter was too small, and the purification process was also quite difficult. Even after searching through all the sheep pens and the few toilets in the town, they only managed to obtain less than 3 kilograms of saltpeter.

Sulfur purification is even more difficult, requiring only crucible heating and the most basic filtration method.

Of course, this was the limit of what the stonemasons could do, since they weren't professionals after all.

Then the raw materials are ground into fine powder, weighed strictly according to the formula, and mixed together to form gunpowder.

But Vilan seemed to remember that gunpowder and explosives were somewhat different?

What should we do next?

It took Vilan two whole days to get to this point, and he was already overwhelmed and had no idea what to do next.

Just when Vilan was feeling troubled, Llorente brought him some exciting news.

"Lord Vilan, on my second trip to the sulfur mine, I found you a true alchemist."