Iron Powder and Spellcaster

Twenty-nine years ago, spring.

A tired young man walked into an unknown settlement in a newly cultivated land.

The young man was tall, sallow and thin, and wore very old clothes sewn from sacks.

He doesn't have shoes, but that's okay. The soles of his feet have become thick calluses, and it won't hurt even if he steps on sharp gravel.

Two pairs of pliers and a hammer were all his possessions, and they were all carried cross-body in his satchel.

Along the way, young people relied on these tools to repair things for people in exchange for room and board.

Although he can twist steel and shape metal with his arms, he is not a blacksmith because he has not yet become a disciple.

Moreover, because he did not agree to extend the apprenticeship period, he had fallen out with his master and might never be able to become an apprentice again.

If you have not become an apprentice, you are not a certified blacksmith; if you are not a certified blacksmith, you cannot practice; if you cannot practice, even if you are more capable than the master, you will starve to death.

The young man's master took him right, and the master waited for him to humbly apologize and admit his mistake, and to be an unpaid apprentice for another four years.

The young man chose to leave his hometown and travel across the entire Plato to seek opportunities in unknown new lands - I heard that there was no blacksmith guild there.

For this reason, the young people traveled long distances, slept in the open air, and went through many hardships along the way before finally arriving at the newly cultivated land.

Unfortunately, he arrived a little late, and there were already blacksmiths working in every settlement he went to.

The young people walked and walked, farther and farther away, and more and more remote. Finally, in this remote and desolate settlement, he did not find his companions.

The young man spent the first night under the eaves with his satchel in his arms. The next day he traded one of the tongs for a hot meal and a plank of wood.

After drinking up the last drop of soup on the plate, he solemnly carved on the wooden board:

[Blacksmith_Boltan Mejri_Repair, Forge and Smelt]

…

Twenty-seven years ago, Xia.

Boltan and his two assistants were busy in the backyard of the blacksmith shop.

The three of them each held tools and worked together to dismantle a smelting furnace that was half a man tall and made of mud.

This is [Boltan Major]'s third year in the new land.

The once nameless settlement now has a resounding name - Gévaudan.

The young blacksmith apprentice who once only had a piece of wood, a pair of pliers and a hammer now has a small shop. The residents of Gevaudan respectfully call him "Blacksmith Boltan".

After breaking the smelting furnace, Boltan carefully took out an irregularly shaped piece of sponge iron from the furnace, just like holding a piece of precious porcelain.

"It's done!" Paul Vinicius, Boltan's assistant, was ecstatic, laughing and punching the air randomly: "We've done it!"

Another assistant, the silent Peter Goncharov, said nothing, but his eyes could not hide the joy.

"It's not done yet!" Boltan said, with a smile already on his face.

The three people immediately transferred the sponge iron to the anvil. Boltan held the tongs and the other two wielded hammers and began to forge the sponge iron.

With the rhythmic hammering, the loose and porous sponge iron gradually becomes tight and dense, showing the appearance of "iron" little by little.

They were busy from noon to evening, returning the iron billet to the furnace for heating several times. The three of them finally forged this small piece of sponge iron into a mature iron ingot.

"It's done." Boltan wiped the sweat from his forehead and announced to his two companions with a smile.

Paul Vinicius was almost crazy with joy. He hugged his friends' shoulders and laughed: "With iron, we can work freely!"

Without iron, the blacksmith can't do anything; without smelting iron, the three Boltans can only tinker and work by recycling a little scrap iron.

"There is still too much charcoal used." Peter Goncharov pursed his lips, and his joy had somewhat dissipated: "The smelting furnace also needs to be moved to another location. It is too far away from the Tiefeng Mine."

"Hey! Why are you always disappointed? Let's celebrate first!" Paul Vinicius said happily: "Let's go! Let's drink! I'll treat you!"

The three of them left the blacksmith shop without closing the door, making dirty jokes and arm-in-arms.

I went to the little widow Allen's house across the street and bought beer. They sat comfortably under the eaves, drinking and thinking about the future.

At the same time, three cavalrymen flying with green flags flew past, kicking up smoke and dust.

Paul Vinicius was caught off guard and his mouth was full of dust. He was so angry that he yelled: "Donkey's stuff! You want to add some seasoning to me?"

Peter Goncharov stared at the back of the cavalry and said nothing for a long time.

The officer leading the three cavalrymen went straight into the town hall, rang the bell to gather the residents, and read a notice to everyone:

"According to the resolution passed by the Great Council of Plato... the New Territory Province was officially placed under military control... According to the "Tolde Agreement", all forests, rivers, land, and mineral property rights in the New Territory Province are under military control. The government...the old pioneering policy will be invalidated immediately..."

The three blacksmiths arrived a little late. Paul Vinicius was short and couldn't see anything standing behind the crowd. He asked his friends anxiously: "Huh? What are you talking about? I can't hear you clearly!"

"What does it matter?" Boltan crossed his arms and said, "No matter how happy the birds are, we still have to rely on our crafts to earn bread."

Peter Goncharov was silent. "It's going to change," he thought.

At the same time, the kings' castles were thousands of miles away.

Six negotiators from the Monta Republic looked serious and calmly entered the first conference room of the Grand Council. Six Palatine negotiators and observer representatives from the United Provinces, Veneta and Varn were waiting.

The representatives in the first conference room are going to discuss a major event that will change the fate of many people:

Unify the commercial laws, currency and weights and measures of the republics, abolish customs, transit taxes and consumption taxes, realize the free flow of goods within the union, and achieve the ultimate goal - the establishment of the [Grand Senas Customs Union].

…

Twenty-one years ago, autumn.

In Widow Ellen's tavern, Boltan, Paul Vinicius and Peter Goncharov were drinking.

"Mejri, come up with something!" Paul Vinicius broke the silence, pounded the table and shouted: "We all listen to you."

Boltan shook his head.

Peter Goncharov sipped his beer silently.

This is Boltan Mejri's ninth year in the new land.

Little Widow Ellen has become Widow Ellen, and one or two white hairs have sprouted from Boltan's temples.

Six years ago, Boltan moved the forge to a new location at the foot of Iron Peak Mountain and on the bank of the St. George River. Since then, the business has been booming day by day.

Paul Vinicius and Peter Goncharov were no longer Boltan's assistants. They had their own forges, assistants and apprentices, but the three friends were still in business together.

The three Boltans specialized in smelting iron and sold the smelted iron directly to other blacksmiths to avoid any trouble themselves.

In the beginning, blacksmiths from nearby villages and towns traveled far to buy iron materials. Later, some blacksmiths simply moved their forges to the workshops of the three Boltans in order to save shipping costs.

Around Boltan's workshop, the crowd gradually became denser. Because there are many forges, nearby farmers call this blacksmith village "Forge Township".

Boltan liked the name, but he didn't know how long it would last.

He drank the wine in his glass and said with a stern face: "The iron ingots from Forge Township can no longer be sold in Linjun. The iron smelted last month is still in the warehouse today. The iron bars of Steel Castle are about to be Squeeze us to pieces, and if we continue, we will just wait to die."

"Does this need to be said?" Paul Vinicius said impatiently: "It's all because of this bullshit treaty!"

Because the republics refused to give in to each other, the attempt to establish the "Grand Senas Customs Union" ultimately failed. But the stillborn customs union plan still left some legacy.

For example: at the strong suggestion of General Antoine Laurent, the republics agreed to unify weights and measures at the official level - of course, there was no way to unify the currency.

And: the republics agreed in principle to reduce tariffs and unanimously agreed to use "bilateral treaties" as a replacement for the "Grand Customs Union" at this stage.

After Plato and Monta signed the customs treaty a year ago, the bars and iron tools from the steel castle poured into Plato like a dike bursting.

For the Platuan people, it was a good thing that they could buy cheaper iron tools. But for blacksmiths like Boltan, the situation couldn't get any worse.

The good times have only lasted six years, is this the end?

"If I have a way." Boltan gritted his teeth and asked his two partners in a deep voice: "Are you willing to support me?"

Peter Goncharov blinked and said nothing.

Paul Vinicius eagerly agreed: "Just say it!"

"Guild! We want to set up our own Tiefeng County blacksmiths' guild!"

…

At this moment, winter.

"Your Excellency, please allow me to put myself out there." Facing the Montagne tribune who came to visit late at night, the old blacksmith Boltan sat up and said: "Do you know what the core of the guild is?"

Winters smiled half-heartedly: "Monopoly."

"That's right." The old blacksmith Boltan sat on the recliner Winters built for him, speaking calmly and slowly: "The core of the guild is internal democracy and external monopoly. Then you know why I did it twenty years ago Are you going to get the blacksmiths from Tiefeng County to form a guild?"

"I guess." Winters chuckled: "You want to monopolize the source of iron in Tiefeng County and keep the iron of the Steel Castle out."

"Yes." The old blacksmith Boltan did not deny it: "It's despicable, isn't it?"

"No, it's normal." Winters smiled and shook his head: "This is what the guild does. It would be strange if it didn't do this. I'm more curious about why you failed?"

The old blacksmith Boltan was silent.

"The fortress is easiest to break through from the inside." Winters rubbed the handle of the knife: "There must be a traitor."

"One of my business partners chose to stand on the other side." The old blacksmith Boltan forced a smile: "The guild has internal democracy. I didn't discover this until the vote."

"Mr. Goncharov?"

"yes."

Winters smiled.

The old blacksmith Boltan lay on the chair, looked at the ceiling and said: "The problems you are encountering now are nothing more than two solutions, one fast and one slow. I don't need to say more about the fast solution. But I can assure you, No blacksmith in the Forge Township dares to openly oppose you. However, the guild is the foundation of the city. If the blacksmith guild is disturbed, everyone in the other guilds will be in danger."

"If I wanted to be quick, I wouldn't come here to ask you for advice. If you have any ideas, please tell me." Winters smiled. If the old blacksmith planned to use him to retaliate against the blacksmith guild, he wouldn't mind being a knife.

"Allow me to ask you one more question." The old blacksmith Boltan avoided the topic: "Do you know why Peter Goncharov opposed me twenty years ago?"

"I don't know." Winters cooperated with the old blacksmith.

The old blacksmith Boltan sighed: "Because he believes that our iron cannot beat the steel bar iron. In the final analysis, there is one reason - their iron is indeed better and cheaper. Monopoly cannot make up for the gap between quality and price. Relying on monopoly to delay failure , in the end you will only lose more miserably, it is better to admit defeat honestly."

"Actually, the iron smelting business has been squeezed out. I'm not angry. At worst, I can just go back to blacksmithing." The old blacksmith said with emotion: "What really makes me unacceptable is the betrayal of a friend. But you know that there is nothing more painful than the betrayal of a friend. What is it? Old Goncharov was right to betray him.

The more I think about it, the more I agree with old Goncharov. Steel Fort can win because their bar iron is really good. If you want to rely on the blacksmith's guild to squeeze away the iron from the steel castle, you have to buy the new reclamation army with a large sum of tribute. In the end, the blacksmiths will earn less money and the ironware will be sold more expensively. With all the money flowing into the pockets of the New Reclamation Army, it would be better to simply surrender. "

Winters was a little surprised. He listened quietly because the old blacksmith obviously didn't finish what he said.

"But in the past ten years, I have had another idea. Old Goncharov is right, but he is also wrong! What if our iron materials can be cheap and good? What if we can be like a steel castle one day? Producing steel? If we surrender, there will be no hope at all."

The old blacksmith Boltan summed it up seriously: "This is what I have been thinking for the past ten years. Monopoly is not impossible, but the premise must be a monopoly with the goal of defeating Steel Castle in an upright manner! We must find more labor-saving mining methods, better smelting furnaces, and cheaper The fuel... just learn how to make Steel Castle! Finally defeat Steel Castle!"

The old blacksmith Boltan became more and more excited as he spoke, and was a little out of breath at the end.

Winters thought for a while and asked: "Is this the idea that led you to study how to use coal to smelt iron?"

"Yes, but it failed." The old blacksmith slumped on the recliner and smiled sadly: "If you want to compete with Steel Castle, the blacksmiths' guild is not qualified. The monopoly of the forge has satisfied the blacksmiths. The existence of the blacksmiths' guild is not for More production, but for less production. This is the essential difference between them and steel castles.

The blacksmiths' guild had neither the will nor the ability to improve, while the steel castle grew stronger every day. Sooner or later, the blacksmith guild in Tiefeng County will be completely overwhelmed by the steel castle. So I gave up any hope a long time ago. "

He stared at Winters with piercing eyes: "And now, what I don't know is-compared to the Blacksmith Guild, do you have a stronger will and ability to compete with Steel Castle?"

"Why didn't I?" Winters laughed back.

"You really didn't." The old blacksmith Boltan said decisively: "You didn't even realize that you didn't."

"Where to start?" Winters didn't know.

The old blacksmith asked coldly: "Who mines for you?"

"For the time being, we will hire farmers, but later we should use captives...that is, slaves."

"Does the ore cost money?"

"don't want."

"Where's Charcoal?"

"Don't either."

"Iron materials from outside can't come in." The old blacksmith squinted his eyes and asked, "Is there anyone else in Tiefeng County who can smelt iron?"

"there is none left……"

"The raw materials are free, and the labor used is slaves. You also have a monopoly on the iron materials in Tiefeng County." The old blacksmith Boltan said coldly: "I really don't know why you want to change the status quo!"

"It's very simple." Winters laughed loudly: "Because I don't plan to stay in Tiefeng County for the rest of my life. I want to fight! I want to arm the army! I want to defeat the Reclamation Army! So I want a lot of iron. The more the merrier!”

…

When Winters returned to his residence, it was already dark.

He had almost no rest all day and night. He spent the morning in Yelu, then went to Forge Township and Juntun Village in the afternoon. He was woken up not long after he fell asleep at night, and then he returned to Gevaudan non-stop to visit Mr. Boltan.

At this moment, he just wanted to have a good sleep.

An unexpected person is waiting for him outside the door - a little lion.

"Didn't you go hunting with Senior Juan?" Winters said in a daze, "You came back so early."

The little lion smiled toothily: "If something happens, I'll be back first."

"What?" Winters yawned: "No matter what, let's talk about it tomorrow - no, it's already today."

The little lion's smile became more playful: "I don't care. But if I tell you tomorrow, I'm worried that you might regret it - someone is waiting for you."

Winters suddenly became sober as if he had touched a soldering iron. He was so nervous that he was on the verge of suffocation: "It can't be that one...is it?"

"Who?" The little lion smiled and asked deliberately.

"you……"

"Stop talking nonsense." The little lion couldn't help laughing, opened the door and entered the house: "Come here, I'm waiting for you."

Winters felt a tightness in his chest, a splitting headache, and a strong desire to escape.

After standing for a while, he gritted his teeth, gritted his teeth, and walked into the residence uneasily.

A man was sitting in the living room waiting for him.

Winters felt as if he had been granted amnesty. It was as if all his strength had been drained out of him in an instant, and his body was weakening uncontrollably.

But the next moment, his spirit and body suddenly became tense again.

Although the man sitting in the living room had changed his appearance - he had become thin, gaunt, and missing a left arm, Winters would never mistake that face.

It's Colonel Bode.

Before anyone else could even speak, Winters had already rushed to Colonel Bode's side.

He held the colonel's empty sleeve and turned back to look at the little lion.

"It's okay, Winters." Colonel Bode said with a smile. His voice was a little hoarse, but he was still as relaxed and easy-going as before: "If they hadn't amputated my arm, I probably wouldn't be able to sit here. .”

"Why are you staring at me?" The little lion stared back at Winters: "Mr. Bode is right."

Winters had mixed feelings. He hugged Colonel Bode. Even though he was holding back, tears still burst out of his eyes.

Colonel Bode used his remaining right hand to pat Winters on the back: "Hey, why are you crying? It's okay..."

Colonel Bode said this, and two lines of tears streaked his cheeks.

Colonel Bode is the "gift" of the White Lion.

The white lion also sent another gift, which was a sentence.

"The fire-warmers are coming," said the little lion.

[Thanks to book friends for their collection, reading, subscription, recommendation votes, monthly votes, rewards and comments, thank you all]

[The recent plot is really loose, I apologize here and I will find ways to improve it later]

[Thanks to book friends for their valuable opinions, thank you all]

[I want to talk about the blacksmith Boltan. One of his important attributes is "old man" and his time is running out. Mr. Qian Zhongshu said: When old people fall in love, the old house is on fire and there is no way to save it. The same is true in other aspects, because "I am about to die", my obsession becomes stronger]

[There is another problem between Boltan and Winters, that is, Boltan does not know what Winters’ purpose is. He didn't know where Winters was going - to become the local emperor in Tiefeng County? Just make some money and leave? He is a figure who is both inside and outside the Winters faction]

[I can also mention that because I gave up hope early, Boltan’s previous wish was to write a book...]

[This is a lot of explanation, I hope you can forgive me. I quite like this character, but I won’t dwell too much on it later. Because I want to write the following plot more compactly...]