Translator: Cinder Translations
...
"Smack!"
A firm pat on his back startled Guy Burns, causing his gloomy expression to vanish instantly.
Paul had noticed Guy looking dejected and decided to cheer him up a bit since he still needed him for many upcoming tasks.
"Hey! What's with that expression? You look like you stepped in dog poop," Paul remarked.
Guy blushed. "Uh... I'm just frustrated with myself for not seeing things as far ahead as you do."
"Hmph, you can't fool me! You're blaming me for not letting you work on the steam engine, aren't you?" Paul teased.
Guy flustered, waving his hands. "No, no! Your lordship, how could I ever blame you?"
Paul rubbed his chin, feigning a contemplative look.
"Alright, Burns, you can use some of the resources and manpower from the factory to research steam utilization."
"Yes, my lord, I will... Wait, did I hear you correctly?" Guy was visibly surprised. Was the Earl changing his mind?
"You heard me right. But my condition is that it shouldn't interfere with the factory's regular tasks. I hired you to work, not to indulge your personal interests."
Guy immediately stood at attention and saluted Paul with a military salute he had learned.
"Lord Grayman, please rest assured, I will not affect other research and production tasks."
Paul adopted a serious expression. "I hope so. I'll be keeping an eye on you and regularly checking the expenses across all projects in the factory."
Despite Paul's warning, Guy's gloomy expression never returned. He walked with a lighter step and even started humming a tune.
Although Paul didn't currently need a steam engine, preliminary research and technological accumulation were necessary. When the time came, if his plans succeeded, the era of steam would inevitably arrive.
Of course, he wouldn't invest too much resources or attention into this.
Additionally, he harbored another idea—without his interference, allowing the natives of this world to independently break through certain fields.
The development of society ultimately couldn't rely on the foresight of just one or two people.
But this process would certainly be long and tortuous.
Watching Guy Burns's cheerful demeanor, Paul couldn't help but smirk.
"Heh heh, Burns, on Earth, it took eighty-four years from the invention of the steam engine to its practical use, not counting the time spent on invention. I wonder how capable you are. I bet just dealing with a cylinder would give you a hard time."
Paul made up his mind: he wouldn't intervene in the development of the steam engine until he genuinely needed it.
The group chatted and laughed all the way, returning to the town center by boat.
Over the next few days, the ironworks continued constructing new blast furnaces, while Paul patiently awaited the swords and daggers crafted for him by the blacksmith Herman.
However, Paul received news that made him want to spit blood. Herman personally came to the Lord's manor, wearing a disgruntled expression, to report: the iron smelted in the blast furnace before was completely unusable.
"The iron we smelted in the blast furnace... is scrap iron?"
The Lord's eyes widened incredulously, his face displaying disbelief.
"I need to go to the ironworks and see it for myself!"
The entire castle could hear the Lord's roar, followed by the slamming of his office door.
...
In the southern rebel camp of Thorns Fortress, four people sat around a table.
Seated in the main position was the commander of this rebel army, Samal, and sitting to his right was his advisor, the mage Scott.
The other two people sitting opposite Scott were dressed as merchants. One was a middle-aged man with a moustache, and the other was a young man younger than Scott, who wore an earring on his right ear and always had a somewhat frivolous smile, giving him a slightly disrespectful air.
"Duke Giles is very dissatisfied with your previous actions. It would have been one thing to capture Thorns Fortress, but instead, you suffered heavy losses, which not only caused significant casualties but also dampened the morale of our army," said the middle-aged man with a moustache, conveying the Grand Duke Giles' reprimand to Samal.
Samal hung his head, not attempting to defend himself.
"I was overly ambitious and eager for battle. I apologize for not living up to the Grand Duke's trust in me."
The middle-aged man sighed deeply.
"Ah, General Samal, please remember your own task. The army you lead is only meant to watch over Thorns Fortress. When the Grand Duke leads the main force here, he will naturally take it over."
"I will remember this in the future and refrain from acting rashly," Samal promised.
Scott suddenly interjected, "Please tell Duke Giles that this isn't entirely General Samal's fault. It was my zeal for battle that incited General Samal to attack Thorns Fortress. I underestimated the fortress's defenses and didn't anticipate the existence of the long-lost 'Greek Fire' inside."
The other three were surprised by Scott's willingness to shoulder the blame. Especially Samal, who was somewhat moved by Scott's straightforwardness. Although Scott, the arrogant young mage, was a bit conceited, he could also be considered daring.
The young man with the earring looked at Scott, smiling and nodding at him, to which Scott responded with a displeased expression.
Samal stood up. "Regardless, as the commander of this army, I bear the greatest responsibility. After all, the final decisions were mine."
"We're not here to discuss who bears the most responsibility. We're here to remind you that the main royal army will soon be marching south. They're expected to depart from Crystal Glare by early spring," the middle-aged man said with a hint of sarcasm.
Scott smirked, "Looks like even if you burned the granaries, you couldn't delay the Princess's arrival for too long."
The middle-aged man snorted, "How much longer do you want to delay? It's been nearly half a year already. The royal family still controls most of the Aldor Kingdom; food shortages won't affect them for long."
Samal asked with concern, "How long until the Grand Duke's main force heads north?"
"There are still a few tough nuts to crack in the south. Their fate is sealed, but the timing is uncertain."
"So, if the royal army arrives before then, we'll have to rely on ourselves?" Samal inquired.
"Yes, but..."
The young man with the earring interjected, "A group of mages will come to support you."
Upon hearing this, Scott immediately stood up. "As long as more mages arrive, everything will be fine."
The young man shook his head. "Scott, you're starting to be arrogant again. Have you forgotten the lessons from before?"
"Enough lecturing. I know my limits."
"Mr. Scott!" the middle-aged man said with a hint of displeasure. "I know you have formidable power, but the regular army of the kingdom is not to be underestimated. I hope you can take that seriously."
(End of the Chapter)