Iron Powder and Spellcaster

The night is dark and windy, and the streets are silent.

A big black cat jumped up to the eaves and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

After winter, the weather became dry, and a strict curfew began to be implemented in the old town of Gangbao. It is prohibited for any citizen to travel late at night without any reason, and it is also prohibited to use fire sources outdoors at will.

But for those with special permits issued by Mayor Wooper, all bans are useless.

No, two carriages ignored the curfew regulations and drove into a workshop on the north bank of the old city. The first carriage bears the nameplate of the blacksmiths' guild, while the latter carriage bears the symbol of a white eagle with spread wings.

The night watchman lit all the lampstands, making the inside and outside of the workshop as bright as day.

Old man Schmid took out the key, removed three heavy iron locks with his own hands, and slowly opened the warehouse door.

The old blacksmith stood outside the workshop door and was silent for a long time. Then he turned to face the young baron and proudly introduced: "This is my forge."

"Okay." Winters' attitude was polite but distant: "Look at your things."

Schmid nodded and ordered a young man who was sixty-nine similar in appearance and body shape to get the "calibration tools."

…

Old man Schmid just glanced at an iron rod and motioned to the young man to hand it to the baron.

Winters took the iron rod without changing his expression. He first put the iron rod in front of his eyes and checked it repeatedly against the light. Then he gently held the iron rod and rubbed it inch by inch, as if he was caressing the body of the opposite sex.

Finally, he walked to the grinding table, picked out a caliper from the dazzling array of tools, and began to measure the various sections of the iron rod.

Winters was capable and calm during the whole process, as if he was doing a trivial thing that was so familiar that he couldn't be more familiar with it.

Kaman didn't know why, and curiously observed Winters's every move, not understanding what the latter was doing.

Also observing Winters were Schmid and the young man who brought the iron rod. The old blacksmith glanced at the young blacksmith, and the two exchanged opinions silently.

After the verification was completed, Winters returned the iron rod to the young man and nodded slightly.

Old man Schmid cleared his throat and confidently invited the baron: "You can pick out as many guns as you like."

The finished muskets are neatly stacked on the shelves. In appearance, they are very similar. But close inspection reveals subtle differences.

Just like no two leaves are alike, no two muskets are alike, even if they come from the same workshop.

Winters looked at Carman.

Kaman was startled for a moment, then walked into the shelf as instructed and brought back two muskets.

"Matchlock ignition, reverse clamp, built-in bolt action." Schmid held the musket and proudly explained: "Wrought iron barrel, beech body. As long as it is properly maintained, it will not explode even if it is used for a hundred years."

Winters had long noticed the difference between the matchlock gun in Schmid's hand and the common matchlock gun, but he deliberately did not show curiosity or surprise.

The gun made by Schmid's workshop used a gun he had never seen before.

Whether it is the Tiefeng County Army or the Plato Standing Army, the gun of the matchlock gun held by the soldiers is nothing more than a set of simple connecting rods, with a structure similar to the launcher of a crossbow, and it is also external.

Only spring-loaded guns use an additional shell to cover the bolt. This is because the spring-loaded gun is too delicate and easily damaged.

The musket in front of me did not have a separate outer casing. Instead, it was ingeniously slotted into the butt of the gun, and the bolt was completely retracted into the body of the gun. It was sealed with an iron plate, leaving only the bent rod holding the match rope exposed.

The young man brought by the old man Schmid took out a jar of sesame oil, carefully smeared the oil on the iron rod, then put the iron rod against the muzzle of the gun and exerted force with a muffled sound.

Although it was a little hesitant, the iron rod was still pushed steadily into the barrel of the gun, all the way to the bottom.

Only then did Kaman realize that the iron rod was a tool used to check whether the barrel of the gun was straight.

After inspecting one gun, the young man pulled out the iron rod and inspected the second gun as usual. Check it out again, no problem.

"Every gun here has been drilled and ground once. The bore is as smooth as a woman's butt, ensuring that every lead shot is in a straight line." Old blacksmith Schmid took one of the guns He handed the musket to Winters: "You can't use guns in the city. Tomorrow you can ask my youngest son to accompany you to charge powder and target shooting outside the city."

Winters took the musket and estimated the weight by hand to be about 8 kilograms - much lighter than the heavy matchlock gun currently used by the Tiefeng County Army.

As soon as he got started, he discovered another interesting design: the "firing" device of the Schmid Workshop musket was not a common "shooting rod", but a crescent-shaped blocking piece.

He pressed the stopper and the bent rod holding the match rope rotated. Release the blocking piece and return the bending rod to its original position.

As a soldier who is as familiar with firearms as his hands, Winters instantly realized the advantages of "blocking plates instead of firing rods".

The reason is simple: four fingers are needed to pull the firing rod, and only the thumb is holding the gun; the blocking plate can be pulled with only one index finger, leaving three more fingers to hold the gun.

With a stent, the difference between the two is negligible. But if there is no bracket, the stability of holding the gun in the latter is far better than that of the former.

Winters had only seen a similar design on spring-loaded muskets, because short muskets need to be held with one hand, which is difficult to hold, and it is impossible to use three fingers to press the firing rod.

Since there is a similar design, why do the matchlock guns currently in service use a firing rod instead of a blocking plate?

The reason is also very simple: first, if there is a bracket, holding the gun with more fingers does not make much difference; secondly, the lever structure of the bolt will amplify the resistance. If the firing rod is made too small, it will be very laborious to pull.

Taking into account the actual battlefield conditions such as rust, poor lubrication, and foreign matter obstruction, using a small block to drive the bolt is equivalent to using a wooden skewer to pry a big stone. It is better to make the firing rod larger to ensure that there will be no accidents during use.

However, at this moment, although the "stop plate" of the musket in Winters' hand also had feedback force transmitted back, it was not so hard that it could not be pressed. It was similar to the resistance of the trigger of the spring wheel gun.

Winters resisted the urge to dismantle the gun on the spot to examine its structure. He placed the musket on the table as if he was not interested, and asked calmly: "There is no rifled musket? Only a matchlock gun?"

"Of course there are spring wheel muskets and rifled muskets." Old blacksmith Schmid replied calmly: "If you want to buy one, I can introduce you to other workshops."

"Your workshop doesn't make 'shotguns'?"

"When I was an apprentice, the master repeatedly warned that mastering a skill is enough to earn bread." Old Schmid motioned the young man to put away his musket: "Drilling rifling is a delicate craft, and there are gunsmiths who specialize in making rifled muskets. I I’ll sell them barrels, but I can’t make rifled muskets.”

Winters thought thoughtfully: "It is said that the blacksmiths in Steel Castle have a very fine division of labor, and even grinders and hardeners have separate guilds?"

"Where did you know that?" Old blacksmith Schmid asked.

"I heard it while chatting."

"There used to be separate guilds - they weren't called guilds at that time, they were called 'brotherhoods'. The brotherhood of swordsmiths and the brotherhood of grinders." Old man Schmid looked at the beams of the workshop and recalled: "Now They all merged into the blacksmiths’ guild, decades ago.”

Winters listened politely without saying a word.

The young man brought by Schmid couldn't hold himself back and asked tentatively: "Sir, there is a sword workshop next door. Do you want to go and take a look at the sword strips?"

"Of course you have to look at the sword strips." Winters put on his gloves slowly: "But did you take out two less things?"

"What?" The young man was still pretending to be stupid.

Winters frowned slightly and stared at the young man carefully. Until the latter's eyes dodge, he raised his hand and tapped the iron rod he had just used to test the musket.

"His Excellency the Baron is an expert, don't be embarrassed." Old man Schmid scolded in a deep voice, both to teach a lesson and to smooth things over: "Hurry up and go!"

The young man bowed his head, saluted, and left dejectedly.

When the young man entered the workshop, Schmid also nodded to Winters: "I'm sorry, Your Excellency."

"It doesn't matter." Winters smiled politely but coldly: "Is that your grandson?"

"Young son." Old blacksmith Schmid had a complicated look on his face: "Sooner or later this forge must be handed over to him, but he always fails to get it right."

"Young son?" Winters couldn't hide his surprise for the first time, and Carman beside him couldn't laugh or cry either.

The young man was about the same age as Winters, and at least forty years younger than Schmid. son? The old blacksmith is enough to be his grandfather.

"Then you are really... going strong with age." Winters asked with a smile, "How many sons do you have?"

The old blacksmith made a gesture and replied proudly: "Seven!"

Winters nodded and asked, "Each son has a forge?"

"Of course." Old Man Schmid sighed slightly: "Isn't it all for them that I have worked hard to save all my life?"

"Have all seven of your forges been given to your sons?"

"There are eight, and one of mine." Schmid added with a hint of regret: "The other sons are already qualified forge masters, and their furnaces are blazing, so I don't need to worry about them. In addition to this youngest son, he also has Almost working out.”

"What an incredible family fortune!" After the polite compliment, Winters asked: "But why don't you put the eight forges together to form a larger workshop?"

"When your son grows up, it's natural to divide the family." Schmid asked as a matter of course: "Together everything? Shouldn't we divide the family property among them?"

"There are many ways, such as dividing shares into different shares."

Schmid burst into laughter and said jokingly: "Maybe in the Empire. But in Montaland, if I did that, everyone would laugh at me for being a miser who doesn't even have a penny, and I'm not even willing to distribute my property to my son. Just like now. Isn't it good to let them manage their own forges?"

"Yes, you are right." Winters smiled lightly.

Kaman rolled his eyes in his mind: because usually when Winters smiled like this, he was actually saying, "You're wrong, but I'm too lazy to correct you."

Within a few words, Schmid's youngest son walked out of the workshop and brought back two iron bars.

At first glance, there is no difference between the three iron rods, but when you put them together, you will find that the two iron rods taken out later are thicker and thinner.

Little Schmid repeated the process of oiling and inspection.

This time, even Kaman, who knew nothing about firearms or blacksmithing, understood the principle: even if a thicker iron rod is lubricated with oil, it will not fit into the bore at all; a thinner iron rod can be inserted without any hindrance. into the barrel of the gun.

After two verifications, it can be confirmed that the barrel is not only straight, but also that the change in inner diameter is within the allowable range.

After seeing the second inspection, Winters nodded, never looked at the muskets on the shelf, and asked without hesitation: "Can you take me to see the sword?"

When the group of people walked towards the sword workshop, Carman asked Winters in a low voice: "[Old Slang] When did you become an 'expert'?"

Winters blinked and replied easily: "[Old saying] I learned from Balian. In Steel Castle, if you are not an expert, you will be bullied."

"[Old Slang] And...why were you laughing just now?"

"[Old slang] Huh?"

"[Old slang] The thing about the forge."

Winters looked at Kaman, a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and shook his head slightly: "[Old saying] is complicated to say, I will explain it to you when I get back."

The sword-forging workshop is right next to the musket workshop. Both workshops are owned by Schmid, but they are separated by a low wall.

Passing through a wooden door that was ajar, you arrived at the Schmid Sword Workshop.

The layout of the sword workshop is similar to that of the gun workshop: furnace, forging hammer, and anvil. It's just that the area is smaller, because there is no drill press with a huge flywheel like that in a musket workshop.

The method of testing swords is simpler. Winters may be a fake expert when it comes to testing guns, but Winters is a real expert when it comes to swords.

He first visually checked whether the sword strip was straight, and then pressed down on the sword strip to test whether the sword strip had sufficient toughness and whether it could rebound normally after being bent under force.

The final step is the most crucial and brutal, which is to chop the spherical anvil directly with the unedged sword blade. If there are hidden cracks in the sword strip, it will deform or even break in this step.

Winters still asked Kaman to randomly pick out ten sword strips with his eyes, but he did the inspection himself.

He held the steel bar without the hilt firmly through his gloves, and suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity and security.

The slender sword blade is both tough and tough, and even the slightest movement of the sword tip can be accurately transmitted to the hand holding the sword.

Winters swung the sword in a small motion, and the sword blade cut through the air, making a "whoosh" sound as it broke through the air.

After getting familiar with the weight of the sword blade, he swung the sword and struck the anvil.

There was a crisp sound of "dang", and a shallow scar was left on the surface of the spherical anvil, but the sword body was intact.

Old Schmid didn't need to say anything more. Young Schmid also saw that the so-called "Baron" was an expert with swords.

Splitting an anvil is difficult, but the difficulty lies not with the blacksmith who forges the sword, but with the one who wields it.

No matter how good the sword is, it can't withstand the momentum coming from the side. The best saber can be broken at the knee if the strength is used in the right place.

The key to splitting an anvil is to let the sword blade fall vertically on the curved anvil surface. If you slap the sword blade flat on the anvil, no matter what kind of sword it is, it will be deformed.

Little Schmid silently put away his contempt for his peers - "Your Excellency Baron"'s movements were clean and neat, the tendons of the sword were straight, and the sword body was almost not deformed during the chopping process.

Winters was also pleased. Because there is no weight or handle, the center of gravity of the sword is further forward than that of a real sword. He used half of his strength to chop, but the sword blade was intact, which showed that the craftsmanship of Schmid's workshop was worthy of trust.

Winters picked up the other sword blades and asked, "None of them are sharpened?"

"If you need sharpening, I can contact the sharpening workshop tonight." Little Schmid rushed to answer: "It's not difficult to install a handle or a sheath."

Winters neither agreed nor denied, but smiled and said to the Schmids: "Look at the blade again... I may need more sabers."

Schmid's workshop also keeps a lot of blades in stock. They are all made according to the shape commonly used by the Palatine cavalry. The blades are about one meter long and have a small arc.

Little Schmid patted his chest and promised that if "His Excellency the Baron" wanted the heavy Saracen-style broad-bladed saber favored by the imperial cavalry, he could also get it, and there would be as much as he wanted.

Later, Schmid and his son and others found an excuse to leave temporarily, leaving the "Baron" and his "personal priest" to rest. In fact, it was a good intention to give the two people time to discuss alone.

"Is [Old Speech] finished?" Kaman asked in disbelief: "[Old Speech] is that simple?"

"[Old idiom] How is that possible?" Winters sipped the water and replied with a smile: "[Old idiom] He only has the goods prepared by a small workshop, how can we buy enough? Just look at it, it's just the beginning. White Eagle Think of us as chess pieces, but chess pieces also have advantages, especially when we know what the player is thinking.”

Kaman corrected sternly: "[Old saying] It's you, not us."

"[Old Slang] You were there that day."

"[Old saying] I was just a witness, not a participant."

The two were chatting, and the Schmids returned to the room. The old blacksmith was walking in front, and the young blacksmith was holding a delicate wooden box in his hand.

"Your Excellency Baron." The old blacksmith Schmid bowed slightly and saluted: "My youngest son was so offended just now. To express my apology, please accept this gift."

Little Schmid carefully placed the wooden box on the table and opened the lid.

Inside the box, a short knife lay quietly in brocade.

The sheath of the dagger is made of black sheepskin and is not inlaid with any gold or silver jewelry. The handle of the knife is made of fish skin, which has a good texture, but the style is also simple.

"A truly good knife does not need a luxurious scabbard. Those knives are just decorations." Old blacksmith Schmid pulled out a short knife, and the blade was covered with patterns like flowing clouds: "But this knife is not."

"This is..." Winters's eyes were immediately attracted.

"Utz steel knife! The magic weapon of the Saracens." Schmid said quite proudly: "The knife blade is made of genuine Utz steel. I forged and polished it by myself, but it's a pity that it's just such a small piece. Knife The handle is the workmanship of Steel Castle, using stingray leather and silver wire."

It is said to be a knife, but actually it is more appropriately called a dagger. Under the dim light, the ridge side of the dagger revealed a strange texture, like smoke or rippling water.

Winters couldn't help but want to pick up the dagger and play with it, but he still refrained from touching it: "Mr. Schmid, our business has not been completed yet."

"It has nothing to do with business." Schmid laughed heartily: "When I die one day, this knife will belong to my youngest son. He just offended you, so it makes sense to use his future property to apologize to you. "

Winters still didn't touch the dagger in the wooden box. He thought for a moment and said to Old Schmid: "Mr. Schmid, I can buy all the saber blades currently in your workshop."

Old Schmid remained calm and sat down at the table with his back propped up, waiting for the "Baron" to continue.

To be honest, the old blacksmith thought that the buyer introduced by Mayor Wooper was just a kitten, but the kitten now vaguely smelled like a whale.

The old one can still keep his composure, but the young one can no longer bear it.

"Buy them all?" Little Schmid's eyes widened and he asked eagerly: "What's the unit price?"

"Market price last September."

Little Schmid quickly calculated in his mind: September last year was not the highest price, but it was still much better than the current market price.

"How do you want to pay the bill?" Little Schmid asked anxiously. Don't ask for an IOU, he thought.

Winters took out a thin piece of paper from his arms and laid it flat on the table. The paper is not only painted with exquisite patterns, but also has anti-counterfeiting watermarks and Borso da Este's gorgeous signature and lacquer seals.

"This is the deed of Flora Trading Company." Winters explained leisurely: "I pledged a sum of gold worth thirty-five thousand ducats to Flora Trading Company. Anyone who holds this contract can Exchange thirty thousand ducats at Flora Trading Company at any time, or redeem gold."

Little Schmid asked dryly: "Can I... take a look?"

"Yes, please take it for a look. You can also ask Flora Trading Company to verify whether the pledge is true." Winters replied with a smile. In fact, he still had three contracts and pledge notes of the same value in his arms.

Little Schmid couldn't wait to pick up the deed, read it three times front and back, and finally reluctantly put the deed back on the table.

"That's enough." Little Schmid said with some hesitation: "Not to mention buying the inventory, buying the forge is more than enough."

Winters looked at Old Schmid: "Do you need to check it? Mr. Schmid."

"No need."

"Then why didn't you say a word?"

"I'm waiting for you to say 'but'." Old Schmid sighed: "Your Excellency."

Winters showed a smile: "But in addition to the knife blades, I also want to buy a batch of gun barrels. I don't plan to buy them separately. If you want to buy them, I will buy them together."

"Barrel?" Little Schmid was stunned on the spot and asked hurriedly: "Is the finished musket good? As you just saw, the quality of the muskets made in my workshop is extremely good."

The manufacturing cycle of a gun barrel is much longer than that of a gun stock, so a gun has always been built with a barrel - there is only a gun stock waiting for the barrel, and no barrel waiting for the gun stock. Gunsmith workshops generally do not have barrels in stock unless orders are placed in advance.

"Because of shipping, price and legal reasons, it was the best deal for me to buy the barrel."

Old blacksmith Schmid frowned and remained silent.

Little Schmid gritted his teeth: "How about this? You pay a little more, and we will sell you the musket as a barrel! Just pay a little more!"

Winters glanced at Schmid Jr. and then at Schmid Sr.

"Old man, I respect you very much and like you very much." Winters thought silently: "But I still want to beat your price severely!"

Winters replied calmly: "Your calculation is wrong, little Mr. Schmid. If you want to sell me the musket as a barrel, not only can you not increase the price, but you should reduce the price."

"Why...why?" Little Schmid stared and stood up suddenly. Even Kaman looked at Winters with complex eyes of shock, confusion, and unreasonableness.

"Because you didn't include the cost of removing the barrel." Winters' tone was cold and brooked no refutation: "I just want the barrel."

[Before I started writing, I had actually thought about what the author wanted to say. ]

[As a result, after writing this chapter, I forgot...]

[oh! By the way, the matchlock gun! ]

[The evolution of the matchlock gun actually has a history of about more than a hundred years. It is easy to be swallowed up in this chapter, so I will add it in the author's words, and the picture will be included in this chapter]

[In the most primitive bolt action, the match rope falls forward. This structure is the simplest, but it wastes the length of the butt, takes up the position of the barrel, and makes it difficult for the shooter to observe the burning condition of the match rope. Japanese iron cannons have a "match rope falling forward" design in the end]

[In the second-generation gun mechanism, the matchlock falls in the direction of the shooter, that is, backwards. The advantage is that it does not occupy the butt of the gun, leaving more space for the barrel, and it is convenient to observe the match rope; the disadvantage is that the gun is no longer blocked between the gunpowder tank and the shooter, and every shot is gray. Beginning in the 16th century, matchlock guns basically had a backward-dropping bolt.]

[The third-generation bolt action, on the basis of falling backward, adds [built-in bolt action] and [automatic reset] structures, and gradually replaces the firing rod with a trigger. Reliability is better. The mass-produced matchlocks during the British Civil War all had similar structures]

[There is also a small detail. Before this, when the book mentioned "trigger", it was always linked to "spring gun", and when it came to shooting a matchlock gun, it was "pull the firing rod" (there are two clerical errors, Face covering)]

[Because firearm triggers first became popular with spring-wheel short guns, because firearms used with one hand have an "urgent need" for triggers, which in turn brings innovation and progress in design]