Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

The only interesting thing was the water-powered hammer.

Ever since old Gangchalov spent a fortune to invite craftsmen from the Steel Fortress to build the first water-powered hammer ten years ago, water-powered hammers have been blooming all over Forging Village.

Because the principle and the mechanical structure of this device are not complicated, one glance is enough to understand how it works.

The biggest problem is the cost; both construction and maintenance require money, which small shops like the one in Wolf Town run by old Misha just can't afford.

Before even entering the town, Winters had seen the waterwheels by the river, which is why he took the initiative to ask for a tour of the workshop.

"My lord, please look. This is the hammer that my father commissioned master craftsmen from the Steel Fortress to make. It has been ten years, but it is still the best hammer in Forging Village," Gangchalov proudly introduced one of the hammers.

Winters examined it inside and out, "This hammerhead... it's pretty heavy, isn't it?"

"Of course, a three hundred kilogram hammerhead."

"Wow, three hundred kilograms, that's impressive!" Winters blinked with curiosity, asking, "Can you make it move? It must be even more impressive when it's in action, right?"

Gangchalov naturally agreed. He led several apprentices in a bustle of activity, and the workshop's waterwheel outside, three meters in diameter, began to slowly turn.

The immense force was transmitted through an iron axle, a set of gears for reduction, and a series of cranks and connecting rods.

In the end, the hefty hammerhead awoke, and with an unstoppable momentum, it repeatedly slammed down onto the iron anvil.

An apprentice placed a glowing, bright yellow block of steel under the hammerhead, and as it was struck with thudding blows, the bar of metal was first thickened and then gradually flattened.

"That's how ploughshares are made," Gangchalov explained, "The bending, drilling, and sharpening all have to be done by hand."

Winters, with his hands behind his back, nodded repeatedly in wonder.

In fact, he was calculating the time by counting his pulse; his heartbeat ticked seventy times—roughly one minute—while the hammerhead repeated one hundred and four up-and-down movements.

"Quite powerful!" Winters casually asked, "How do you adjust the force?"

"Uh..." Gangchalov scratched his head, "You adjust the water flow."

"Does your family only make ploughs?" Winters, after touring Gangchalov's workshop, did not see any plough carts, only ploughshares.

"Heavy plough carts are too troublesome to make, so each of our seven workshops makes a part," Gangchalov explained cautiously, "Our hammer is better, so we specialize in making steel ploughshares. There are also workshops dedicated to making wheels and frames."

"What about smaller items, like axes and sickles?"

"Those are individually made by each workshop."

Having visited all seven workshops, Winters did not linger any longer.

This was his first meeting with the workshop owners of Forging Village, and both sides had a fairly good impression of each other.

Time was almost up, and the old blacksmith Poltan was feeling a bit tired and planned to go back to Revodan. Winters, taking Andre and Senior Mason with him, decided to visit a nearby military village.

Thus, the three parted ways.

Just after leaving Forging Village, Andre's face turned grim.

"These sons of bitches, all with fake smiles plastered on their faces," Andre gritted his teeth, "I think they just don't know what's good for them."

Senior Mason also sighed.

"It's quite normal." Winters understood the mentality of the workshop owners; he was uncharacteristically melancholic, "We are the 'conquerors' now; no one will pledge allegiance to us immediately. Besides, they genuinely believe that we won't last long.

If that Gangchalov had suddenly knelt down and sworn his loyalty, he would either be insane, or there would be a knife held to his throat."

"Then damn it, put a knife to his throat!" Andre laughed heartily, "Let's turn around and go back right now, I guarantee I'll make that bastard sob and kneel to swear an oath."

"That would work, but it would be pointless," Winters said lightly as he spurred his horse gently, calling out to his horsemen, "Move out! To the military village!"

Back in Forging Village, the workshop owners who had just sent off the unwelcome guests gathered together.

"I previously thought the leader of the Rebels would be at least thirty or forty years old," one shop owner was still surprised, "To think it's just a young lad? Barely twenty years old, right?"

"Watch your mouth," Gangchalov cautioned coldly, "You must call him the Lord Protector."

"Ha! What Lord Protector? It's like playing house," the shop owner retorted mockingly, "If I make a plaque tomorrow and carve 'Duke of Revodan' on it, does that make me the Duke of Revodan?"

The others laughed recklessly, but Gangchalov neither spoke nor laughed.

Another shop owner sighed in distress, "But honestly, once the Rebels are exterminated, our days of prosperity will also come to an end."

At this comment, the other shop owners felt a twinge of regret.

Ever since the "Rebels" had taken Revodan, business in Forging Village had been booming day by day.

The workshops no longer had to worry about sales, for the Rebels would purchase as many iron goods as they could produce.

What was even more valuable was the Rebels' fair trade—always paying on the spot, never in arrears.

Each time the shop owners thought that such good days might not last, they sighed heavily.

"Don't think too much and don't gossip about such things," Gangchalov spoke up gravely, "Be careful—when the army from Maplestone City arrives, they'll hang you all as complicit with the Rebels!"

The atmosphere turned cold again, and the shop owners chatted idly for a while before dispersing.

Mr. Vinius had remained silent on the fringes, not joining in the conversation.

The shop owners of Forging Village were all part of "Gangchalov's group," but Vinius's family had been at odds with the Gangchalov family since his father's time.

Seeing others leave, Mr. Vinius also walked out of the town hall. He had barely gone a few steps when he was called from behind by Gangchalov.