After less than twenty uses, the best quality third-generation wooden cannon was scrapped at a rate far exceeding Mason's expectations.
Demon Ons led his men to deliver the wooden cannon to a row of crude wooden sheds by the riverbank.
This was Revodan's weapons workshop. Although it was winter, the inside of the workshop felt no coldness.
Wearing only a single layer of clothing, the blacksmiths were sweating profusely, and the dull sound of the hammering never ceased.
Gangchalov, wearing a leather coat full of tiny holes burned by iron filings, was forging a large yellowish ingot on the hydraulic hammer.
Seeing that his eldest brother had flattened the ingot into a cylindrical shape, Gangchalov's two younger brothers immediately lifted a chisel-like tool to secure it just above the iron column.
Accompanied by the continuous pounding of the hammer, the iron column was penetrated from top to bottom. After removing the chisel, they replaced it with an iron rod poked inside.
