Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 1021 - 62: Whirlpool (Four)

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Chapter 1021 -62: Whirlpool (Four)

The night was pitch-black, and the streets lay in utter silence.

A large black cat leapt onto the rooftop, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

With the coming of winter, the air dry and objects brittle, the Old Town in Steel Fortress began enforcing a strict curfew. It prohibited any citizens from wandering about at night without cause, and the use of open flames outdoors was even more forbidden.

But for those holding a special permit issued by Mayor Wooper, all bans were mere scraps of paper.

Just like that, two carriages disregarded the curfew rules and entered a workshop on the North Shore of Old Town, one after another. The first carriage bore the guild insignia of blacksmiths; the second was marked with the emblem of a spreading White Eagle.

The night watch lit all the lighthouses, brightening the inside and outside of the workshop as if it were daytime.

Old Schmid took out the keys, personally removed three cumbersome iron locks, and slowly pushed open the storeroom’s large door.

The old blacksmith stood outside the workshop door, silent for a good while. Then he turned to face the young Baron, proudly introducing: “This is it, my Forge.”

“Good.” Winters’ demeanor was polite yet distant: “Let’s see your work.”

Schmid nodded, instructing a young man who looked somewhat similar to him to fetch the “tools for verification.”

A steel rod, which Old Schmid just glanced at, then gestured for the young man to hand it to the Baron.

Winters accepted the steel rod without changing his expression. He first held the rod up to his eyes, inspecting it back and forth against the light. He then gently gripped the rod, caressing it inch by inch with movements as tender as stroking a woman’s body.

Ultimately, he walked over to the grinding bench and picked out a caliper from the array of tools, beginning the measurements of various segments of the steel rod.

Throughout the process, Winters was efficient and composed, as if he were handling a familiar trivial task.

Caman, however, was puzzled, curiously watching Winters’ every move, completely clueless about what the latter was doing.

Observing Winters were also Schmid as well as the young man who brought the steel rod. The old blacksmith glanced at the young blacksmith, and they exchanged opinions silently.

After the verification, Winters returned the steel rod to the young man, giving a slight nod.

Old Schmid cleared his throat and confidently invited the Baron: “You may pick any firearms you like.”

The finished firearms were neatly arranged on the rack. At first glance, they looked very similar. However, a close inspection revealed slight differences.

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

Winters looked towards Caman.

Caman was initially taken aback, then as instructed, he walked into the racks and brought back two firearms.

“Matchlock firing, reverse clamps, built-in gun mechanism,” Schmid held a firearm, proudly explaining: “Iron gun barrels, beech stocks. With proper maintenance, they won’t burst even if used for a hundred years.”

Winters had already noticed the differences in the matchlock guns handled by Schmid compared to typical matchlock guns, but he deliberately did not show curiosity or surprise.

The gun mechanism, the firearms manufactured by Schmid’s workshop employed a mechanism he had not seen before.

Be it the Iron Peak County Military or Paratu Standing Army, the gun mechanisms used by soldiers’ matchlock guns were nothing more than a simple set of connecting rods, the structure similar to the trigger mechanism of a crossbow, and furthermore, they were external.

Only revolvers had an extra casing to cover the gun mechanism, and that was because revolvers were too delicate and prone to damage.

The firearms at hand didn’t go to great lengths to fit a separate casing but ingeniously carved a slot in the stock, completely incorporating the gun mechanism into the body and sealing it with a metal plate, leaving only the curved rod that held the match exposed.

The young man brought by Old Schmid took out a can of linseed oil, carefully coated the iron rod with the oil, and then pressed it against the muzzle of the gun, forcefully yet silently pushing it in.

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Although slightly stiff, the iron rod was steadily pushed into the barrel, reaching the bottom.

Caman finally realized—this iron rod was used to check if the gun barrel was straight.

After checking one gun, the young man pulled out the iron rod and proceeded to check the second gun in the same manner, probing it all the way to the bottom without any issue.

“Every gun here has been drilled once and milled once, the bore is as smooth as a woman’s buttocks, ensuring every lead shot travels in a straight line,” Old Schmid, the blacksmith, handed one of the firearms to Winters: “You can’t play around with guns in the city, but tomorrow my son can accompany you outside the city to load and target shoot.”

Winters accepted the firearm, estimating by feel that it weighed about 8 kg—much lighter than the heavy matchlock guns currently used by the Iron Peak County Military.

As he handled it, he noticed another interesting design: the ‘firing’ mechanism of Schmid’s workshop firearms was not the common ‘shooting rod’ but a crescent-shaped blocker.

He pressed down on the blocker; the curved rod holding the match accordingly rotated. Upon releasing the blocker, the curved rod returned to its original position.

As a soldier as familiar with firearms as with his own hands, Winters instantly recognized the advantage of ‘replacing the shooting rod with a blocker.’

The logic was simple: pushing down the shooting rod required four fingers, with only the thumb holding the gun; the blocker could be operated with just the index finger, freeing up three fingers on the holding hand.

With a stand, the difference between the two could be negligible. But without a stand, the latter’s stability while holding the gun far surpassed the former’s.

A similar design, Winters had only seen on revolver hand cannons, which had to be held with one hand, making it already challenging to grip the gun, let alone spare three fingers to push the shooting rod.

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