Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 708 708 42 The Crucible

?Chapter 708: Chapter 42: The Crucible Chapter 708: Chapter 42: The Crucible The weather was turning cool, with life retracting and grass and trees withering into yellow.

It wasn’t just ordinary people who were gradually reluctant to go out; the battered Red Rose and Blue Rose also each called a truce and returned to their dens to lick their wounds and accumulate strength, waiting for the next year.

The scarred Paratu finally got a brief respite, as people mended their clothes and prepared for winter storage, enjoying the hard-won peace and tranquility.

However, in the remote and barren Iron Peak County to the southwest of Paratu, a scene of bustling activity prevailed.

Cavalry bearing green flags were en route to each village and town, delivering the first issue of the “Communications Bulletin.”

The first Iron Peak County Consultative Meeting was also under intense preparation.

Refugee farms and military settlements were racing against time to till the land and sow seeds. With winter approaching and the days getting shorter, everyone’s efforts only intensified.

If the draft animals were too exhausted to continue, people took turns pulling the plow; and if daylight was insufficient, they lit bonfires at night to carry on.

The human mindset is always quite wonderful, for as the chance of success dwindles, people become even more unwilling to give up. If one were to talk about sheer enthusiasm, the final days surpassed the initial days of autumn tilling by far.

The refugees and land-granted soldiers were working furiously, while the old self-sufficient farmers arrived at the most comfortable time of the year.

The winter wheat, barley, and rye of the self-sufficient farmers, mostly sown at the end of September and the beginning of October, were now growing pleasingly well.

The seedlings emerged in clusters from the soil, covering the fields in green, resembling recently laid lawns and adding a rare touch of vitality to the autumn-winter season.

In fact, the wheat fields of the self-sufficient farmers were in great peril.

The problem wasn’t poor growth, but rather that the crops were growing too well. This year’s warm winter had brought on early jointing in parts of the sown fields.

In a few days, when the real cooling arrives, the seedlings that jointed early would all be frozen to death.

Elder Falmer—Winters’ “agricultural adviser” recruited from Wolf Town—was very worried about this.

A solution?

Winters didn’t have one, but he knew where to find one.

He had already sent messengers at the earliest opportunity to convene the prominent grain farmers from nearby villages and towns to discuss strategies at Revodan.

“My lord, what if no one can think of a good solution?” Elder Falmer was still deeply concerned.

“Don’t worry, sir,” Winters, now heavily in debt, said with a laugh, “If it really comes to a famine, I still have Andreya Chelini.”

…

October 30, 559 of the Imperial calendar. The day after Winters returned to Revodan, an ordinary yet special day.

Ordinary, because the sun rose as usual and would set as it always did.

Extraordinary—perhaps worth commemorating—because it was today that Winters would officially start smelting iron.

After the hard work of Senior Mason, the kiln craftsmen brothers, and the Revodan bricklayers, the blast furnace had been completed.

The forge was located on a flat terrace atop Tie Feng Mountain, far from residential areas but close to the mine, for convenient access to ore.

Following Carlos’ requirements, the furnace was built with double layers of refractory bricks and stretched over four meters high. From a distance, it looked like an enormous vase with a long neck placed on the mountainside.

If it hadn’t been for Carlos’ insistence on waiting for Winters to return before lighting the fire, Senior Mason would have moved on to the next step long ago.

“I’ve already touted your skills for you, go ahead with full confidence,” Winters said, laughing heartily and slapping the young blacksmith on the back, “What’s there to fear? Stand tall and puff out your chest!”

Carlos’ upper teeth chattered against his lower ones as he swallowed hard and nodded desperately.

It was evident to everyone that the young blacksmith was on edge.

Carlos fasted for three days in advance, took a bath this morning, and put on a new set of clothes. He also didn’t allow anyone to utter words like “extinguish” or “failure,” becoming irate at anyone who did.

To be honest, Winters didn’t hold out much hope for the young blacksmith’s skills.

If it had been his brother Berlion who said “it can be done,” Winters would not have hesitated to bet everything on it;
But Carlos Soya… Merely seeing him hit it off with a smart fellow like Vashka gave Winters an ominous intuition.

However, he sincerely hoped that the young blacksmith would prove his intuition wrong with his actions.

Firing up the smelter was a truly significant event; the blacksmiths from Forging Village, upon hearing the news, all wanted to come and widen their horizons.

Not just blacksmiths, but prominent citizens of Revodan and even Little Lion were curious to have a look.

Winters didn’t agree and fended them all off.

Especially Little Lion, who was both a friend and a rival and keenly astute—although Winters felt a bit guilty, he resolutely insisted that Senior Juan take Little Lion hunting.

On one hand, he didn’t want to divulge technological secrets; on the other, he didn’t want to lose face.

As a result, the “lighting ceremony” was quite private, with only a few attendees present.

Senior Mason came with great enthusiasm, and Andre was dragged along by him.

Moritz was absent, the supply of life water had ceased recently, leaving the colonel listless, often anxious, and he disliked public appearances.

Besides the four military administrators, only the blacksmith father and son-in-law—Poltan and Soria—were present.

…

Upon returning to Revodan, Winters immediately paid a visit to Elder Poltan, inviting the latter to be his adviser—not officially, with no title or record, which suited the old blacksmith just fine.

Also invited as an adviser was Poltan’s longtime rival, the tobacco merchant and elder mayor Priskin.

Together with Elder Falmer, the farmer from Wolf Town, Winters formed a small advisory group… Of course, the designated chief adviser was none other than “Lady Montaigne.”