Iron Powder and Spellcasters

   Chapter 378 Vortex (4)

   The night was dark and windy, and the streets were silent.

  A **** cat jumped up the eaves and disappeared in a blink of an eye.

  After the winter, the weather is dry and the weather is dry, and a strict curfew has been implemented in the old town of Gangbao. It is forbidden for any citizen to travel late at night for no reason, and it is even forbidden to use fire sources outside.

   But for those with special permits issued by Mayor Wupper, all prohibitions are rubbish.

  No, two horse carriages ignored the curfew regulations and drove into a workshop on the north bank of the old city one after the other. The first carriage was hung with the nameplate of the Blacksmiths' Guild, and the latter was painted with the symbol of a white eagle spreading its wings.

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

   Elder Schmid took out the key, removed the three cumbersome iron locks with his own hands, and slowly pushed open the warehouse door.

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

   "Okay." Winters was polite but distant: "Look at your stuff."

  Schmid nodded and ordered a young man who was six points similar to him to get the "checking tool".

  …

  An iron rod, Old Schmid just glanced at his eyes and motioned for the young man to hand it to the baron.

   Winters took the iron rod without changing his face. He first put the iron rod in front of his eyes and checked the light repeatedly. Then lightly held the iron rod and rubbed it inch by inch, as if stroking the carcass of the opposite sex.

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

   During the whole process, Winters was able and calm, as if he was doing a little thing that he was already familiar with and could no longer be familiar with.

  Kaman didn't understand why, and observed Winters' every move curiously, completely ignoring what the latter was doing.

   Also watching Winters was Schmidt and the boy who brought the iron rod. The old blacksmith glanced at the little blacksmith, and the two exchanged opinions in silence.

   After checking, Winters returned the iron rod to the young man and nodded lightly.

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

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

   Just as there are no two identical leaves, there are no two identical muskets, even if they come from the same workshop.

   Winters looked at Kaman.

  Kaman was stunned for a moment, then walked into the shelf as he said, and brought back two muskets nearby.

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

   Winters had long noticed the difference between the arquebus in Schmid's hand and the common arquebus, but he did not express curiosity and surprise on purpose.

   Bolt, the musket made in Schmid's workshop used a bolt he had never seen before.

  Whether it is the Tiefeng County Army or the Palatine Standing Army, the bolts of the arquebuses held by the soldiers are nothing more than a simple set of connecting rods, with a structure similar to a crossbow transmitter, and it is also external.

  Only the reed gun will use an additional shell to cover the bolt, which is also the reason why the reed is too delicate and easy to damage.

   The musket in front of you did not have a separate shell with a lot of cost, but ingeniously slotted the butt, put the bolt into the gun body completely, and sealed it with an iron plate, exposing only the curved rod holding the match.

  The young man brought by the old man Schmid took out a can of sesame oil, carefully smeared the iron rod with oil, and then pressed the iron rod to the muzzle of the gun, making a muffled sound.

  Although it was a bit slow, the iron rod was still pushed into the barrel of the gun steadily, and it went all the way to the bottom.

  Kaman only realized it here - it turns out that this iron rod is a tool used to check whether the barrel is straight.

   Having tested one gun, the young man pulled out the iron rod and tested the second gun as before. The same goes to the end, there is no problem.

"Every gun here has been drilled and ground once, and the bore is as smooth as a bitch's ass, so that every lead is shot in a straight line." The old blacksmith Schmid took one of the The musket was handed to Winters: "You can't move the gun in the city. Tomorrow, I can let my little son accompany you to charge and shoot outside the city."

   Winters took the musket, which was estimated to weigh about 8 kilograms by hand—much lighter than the heavy arquebus currently used by the Iron Peak Army.

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

   He pressed the stopper, and the curved rod holding the match was rotated. Release the blocking piece, and the bending rod returns to its original position.

  As a soldier who is as familiar with firearms as his hands, Winters instantly realized the advantage of "blocking sheet instead of firing rod".

  The reason is very simple: four fingers are needed to snap down the launch rod, and only the thumb is holding the gun; the blocker can be moved with only one index finger, and there are three more fingers holding the gun.

  In the case of stents, the difference between the two is negligible. But if there is no bracket, the stability of the latter gun is far better than the former.

  Similar design Winters has only been seen on reed-wheel short guns, because short guns need to be held with one hand, it is difficult to hold the gun, let alone three fingers to buckle the firing rod.

  Since there is a similar design, why does the current arquebus do not use a blocking plate but a firing rod?

The reason for    is also very simple: first, on the premise of having a bracket, there is little difference in holding the gun with more fingers; secondly, the lever structure of the bolt will amplify the resistance, and if the launch rod is made too small, it will be very laborious to pull.

   Taking into account the actual situation on the battlefield such as rust, poor lubrication, and foreign body blockage, using a small block to drive the bolt is tantamount to using a wooden sign to pry a large rock. It's better to make the launch rod bigger to ensure that there are no accidents when using it.

   However, at this moment, although the "blocker" of the musket in Winters' hand also has a feedback force, it is not so hard that it cannot be pressed, which is similar to the resistance of the trigger of the reed gun.

  Winters resisted the urge to disassemble the bolt on the spot to inspect the structure, put the musket on the table as if he was not interested, and asked lightly, "No rifled musket? Only arquebus?"

   "Of course there are also reed guns and rifled muskets." The old blacksmith of Schmid replied calmly: "If you want to buy it, I can introduce you to other workshops."

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

"When I was an apprentice, the master and craftsman repeatedly warned me that being proficient in one skill is enough to earn bread." The old man Schmid motioned the young man to put away the musket: "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 rifles."

   Winters pondered: "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?" asked the old blacksmith Schmidt.

   "I heard it while chatting."

"There used to be separate guilds—it wasn't called a guild at that time, it was called a 'fraternity'. Brotherhood of swordsmiths, brotherhood of grinders." Elder Schmid looked at the beam of the workshop and recalled: "Now both are The merger into the Blacksmith's Guild was decades ago."

   Winters listened politely without saying a word.

  The young man brought by Schmid couldn't hold back a little and asked tentatively, "Your Excellency, there is a sword workshop next door, do you want to go and see the sword?"

   "Of course you need to see the sword." Winters put on his gloves unhurriedly: "But did you take out two less things?"

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

   Winters frowned slightly, staring at the young man with a scrutiny, until the latter's eyes dodged, and then he raised his hand and clicked on the iron rod that he just used to test the musket.

   "Your Excellency the Baron is an expert, don't be embarrassed." The old man Schmid scolded in a deep voice, not only teaching a lesson, but also trying to smooth things out: "Don't hurry up!"

   The young man bowed his head and saluted, and left in a sullen manner.

   When the young man entered the workshop, Schmid also nodded to Winters: "Sorry, Your Excellency."

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

   "Little son." Schmid's old blacksmith looked rather complicated: "This forge will be handed over to him sooner or later, but he is always short on fire."

   "Little son?" Winters didn't hide his surprise for the first time, and Kaman on the side couldn't help laughing.

   That lad was about the same age as Winters, and forty years younger than Schmidt said. son? It is enough for the old blacksmith to be his grandfather.

   "Then you are really... old and strong." Winters asked with a smile: "How many sons do you have?"

   The old blacksmith made a gesture, and answered arrogantly, "Seven!"

   Winters nodded in salutation and asked, "Every son has a forge?"

   "Of course." The old man Schmid sighed slightly: "It's not all for them that you have worked hard all your life."

   "Your seven forges have been given to your sons?"

"It's eight, and one of mine." Schmid added regretfully: "The other sons are already qualified forge masters, and they are burning hot, so I don't need to worry about it. Except for this young son, he also Almost worked out."

   "What an incredible family business!" After the courtesy compliment, Winters pressed: "But why don't you combine the eight forges to form a larger workshop?"

   "When my son grows up, it's natural to divide the family." Schmidt asked rightly: "It's all together? Don't you divide the family property to them?"

   "Many ways, such as splitting shares of different shares."

Schmid laughed dumbly and said jokingly: "Maybe in the Empire. But in Montallan, if I do that, everyone will laugh at me as a scumbag who doesn't even want to give my property to my son. Like now In this way, it's not good to let them manage their own forge."

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

  Kaman rolled his eyes in his heart: Because when Winters usually smiles like this, he is actually saying "You are wrong, but I am too lazy to correct you".

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

   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 Schmidt repeated the process of oiling and inspection.

This time, even Kaman, who knew nothing about firearms and blacksmithing, understood the principle: even if the thicker iron rod is lubricated with oil, it will not fit into the bore at all; into the barrel of the gun.

  Check twice to confirm 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, and without looking at the musket on the shelf again, he asked without reluctance, "Can you take me to see the sword?"

   When the group walked towards the sword workshop, Kaman asked Winters in a low voice: "[Old language] When did you become a 'connoisseur'?"

   Winters blinked and replied easily: "[Old language] I'm learning from Berian now. In Steelcastle, if you're not an expert, you're going to be bullied."

   "[Old language] And...what were you laughing at?"

   "[Old language] Huh?"

   "[Old language] Forge thing."

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

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

   Go through a hidden wooden door and arrive at the Schmid sword workshop.

  The layout of the Sword Workshop is similar to that of the Musket Workshop: Furnace, Hammer, Anvil. It's just a little smaller, because there's no drill press with the giant flywheels of the Musket Workshop.

   The way to test a sword is easier. Winters may be a fake connoisseur of guns, but Winters is a real connoisseur of swords.

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

   The last step is the most critical and roughest, which is to chop the spherical anvil directly with the unbladed sword. If the blade has dark cracks, this step will deform or even break.

   Winters still used his eyes to let Kaman pick out ten swords at random, but he did the test himself.

   He held the steel bar without the hilt through the glove, neither loose nor tight, suddenly giving birth to an inexplicable sense of familiarity and security.

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

  Winters swung the blade slightly, and the blade slid through the air, making a sound of "咻咻" breaking through the air.

   Familiar with the weight of the blade, he swung the sword towards the anvil.

   There was a crisp sound of "dang", leaving a shallow scar on the surface of the spherical anvil, and the blade was intact.

   No need for old Schmidt to say more, little Schmidt also saw that the so-called "Baron" was an expert with swords.

  It is difficult to split an anvil, but the difficulty lies not in the blacksmith who forges the sword, but in the person who swings the sword.

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

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

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

   Winters was also satisfied. Because there is no weight and handle, the center of gravity of the sword is farther forward than the real sword. He used half of his strength to chop and slash, and the swords were all intact, indicating that the craftsmanship of Schmid's workshop was trustworthy.

   Winters picked up the other sword bars and asked, "None of them have any edge?"

   "If you need to sharpen, I can contact the sharpening workshop tonight." Little Schmid hurriedly replied: "It is not difficult to install a handle or a sheath."

   Winters didn't agree or deny, smiled and said to Schmid and his son: "Look at the blade again...I may need more saber."

   Blades, the Schmid workshop also has a lot of stock, all of which are made according to the shape used by the Palatine cavalry. The blade is about one meter long and has a small arc.

  Little Schmid patted his chest and assured that if "The Baron" wanted the Saracen-style heavy broad-bladed saber favored by the imperial cavalry, he could get it too, and as much as he wanted.

   Later, Schmidt and his son found an excuse to leave temporarily, leaving the "Baron" and his "private priest" to rest, but in fact they kindly gave them time to discuss alone.

   "[Old language] finished?" Kaman asked in disbelief: "[Old language] so simple?"

"[Old language] How is it possible?" Winters sipped the water and replied with a smile: "[Old language] How can we buy the goods prepared by his small workshop? Look, it's just the beginning. White Eagle Think of us as pawns, but pawns also have **** advantages, especially when we know what the players think."

   Kaman corrected rigorously: "[Old phrase] it's you, not us."

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

   “[Old language] I was just a witness, not involved.”

  The two were chatting, and the Schmid and his son returned to the room. The old blacksmith walked in front, and the little blacksmith held a delicate wooden box in his hand.

   "Your Excellency the Baron." The old blacksmith Schmidt bowed slightly and saluted: "My youngest son was offended just now, I apologize, please accept this gift."

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

  In the box, a short knife lies quietly in the brocade.

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

   "Real good knives don't need luxurious scabbards, those knives are just decorations." The old blacksmith Schmid pulled out a short knife, the blade was covered with cloud-like patterns: "And this knife is not."

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

"Uzi steel knife! The magic weapon of the Saracens." Schmid said proudly: "The blade is made of genuine Uzi steel. I forged and ground it myself, but it's a pity it's only a small piece. The handle is of steel castle craftsmanship, with stingray leather and silver thread."

   It is said to be a knife, but in fact it is more appropriate to call it a dagger. Under the dim light, the side of the dagger's spine showed a peculiar texture, which seemed to be filled with blue smoke and rippling like water.

   Winters couldn't help but want to pick up the dagger and play with it, but he resisted: "Mr. Schmid, our business hasn't been done yet."

"It has nothing to do with business." Schmid laughed heartily: "When I die, this knife will belong to my youngest son. It makes sense for him to offend you just now and to apologize to you with his future property. "

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

  Old Schmidt didn't change his face, he sat down at the table with his waist supported, and waited for the "Baron" to continue talking.

   Honestly, the old blacksmith thought the buyer introduced by Mayor Wupper was just a kitten, but now the kitten has a faint scent of whales.

  The old man can still hold his breath, but the young man can't bear it anymore.

   "Buy them all?" Little Schmid's eyes widened and he hurriedly asked, "What about the unit price?"

   "Market price in September last year."

  Little Schmid made a quick calculation in his heart: September last year was not the highest price, but it was much better than the current market price.

   "How would you like to pay the bill?" Little Schmidt asked nervously. But don't ask for IOUs, he thought.

  Winters took out a thin piece of paper from his pocket and laid it flat on the table. The paper is not only beautifully painted, but also has anti-counterfeiting watermarks and an ornate signature and lacquer print of Bolso da Este.

"This is the deed of the Flora firm." Winters explained leisurely: "I pledged a sum of gold worth 35,000 ducats in the Flora firm. Anyone who holds this deed can Exchange 30,000 ducats at any time with the Flora firm, or redeem gold."

   Little Schmidt asked dryly: "Can I… take a look?"

   "Yes, please take a look. You can also ask Flora Firm to verify whether the pledge is true." Winters replied with a smile. In fact, there are three contracts and pledge tickets of the same value in his arms.

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

   "Enough." Little Schmid said, worrying about gains and losses, "Don't talk about buying stock, it's more than enough to buy the forge."

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

   "Not necessary."

   "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 blade, I also want to buy a batch of barrels. I don't plan to buy them individually, I will buy them together if I want to."

   "Barrel?" Little Schmid was stunned on the spot, and quickly asked: "Is the finished musket not good? You have seen it just now, the quality of the muskets made by my workshop is the best."

   The manufacturing cycle of the barrel is much longer than that of the stock, so there is always a barrel to make a gun - only the stock and other barrels, and no barrels and other stocks. Gunsmiths' workshops generally do not stock barrels unless the order is placed in advance.

   "Buying the barrel was the best deal for me because of shipping, price and legal."

   The old blacksmith Schmid frowned and remained silent.

  Little Schmid gritted his teeth: "How about this? You add a little money, and we'll sell you the musket as a barrel! Just add a little money!"

   Winters glanced at little Schmid, then at old Schmid.

   "Old man, I respect you very much and like you very much." Winters meditated: "But I will still kill you!"

   Winters replied calmly: "Your algorithm is wrong, Mr. Schmidt. If you want to sell me a musket as a barrel, instead of paying more, you should reduce the price."

   "Why...why?" Little Schmid widened his eyes and stood up abruptly. Even Kaman looked at Winters with shocked, puzzled, and unreasonable complex eyes.

   "Because you didn't include the cost of removing the barrel." Winters said in a cold voice that he couldn't refute: "I - just the barrel."

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

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

[Oh! By the way, arquebus! ]

   [The evolution of the arquebus actually has a history of more than 100 years. It is easy to be swallowed in this chapter, so I will add it in the author's words, and the pictures are in this chapter]

   [The most primitive bolt, the match rope falls forward. This structure is the simplest, but it will waste the length of the gun stock, occupy the position of the barrel, and it is difficult for the shooter to observe the burning of the match wire. In the end, Japanese iron cannons were all designed with the "match rope falling forward"]

   [In the second generation of the bolt, the match rope falls in the direction of the shooter, that is, it falls backwards. The advantage is that it does not take up the stock of the gun, leaves more space for the barrel, and it is convenient to observe the match; Since the 16th century, arquebuses have basically popularized the bolts that fall backwards]

   [The third-generation bolt, on the basis of falling backwards, added the structure of [built-in bolt] and [automatic reset], and gradually replaced the launch rod with the trigger. Reliability is better. Mass-produced arquebuses during the English Civil War were of similar construction]

[There is also a small detail. Before that, when this book mentioned the [trigger], it was linked to the [reed gun], and when it was mentioned that the arquebus was fired, it was [pull down the firing rod] (there were two typos, cover your face)]

   [Because the firearm trigger was first popularized from the spring wheel short gun, because the one-handed firearm has an "urgent demand" for the trigger, which brings about innovation and progress in design]

   (end of this chapter)