Chereads / Queen, please spare me. / Chapter 7 - Batch Fire Bombs

Chapter 7 - Batch Fire Bombs

To guard against another surprise attack by the Tiger Tribe, the most urgent task now was to quickly produce another batch of firebombs.

The stone jars used by the royal family for wine storage were down to just a dozen or so. These stone jars, which took considerable time to craft, were considered rare in the Hunter's Spear territory and were challenging to produce.

Fortunately, there were craftspeople in the territory skilled at making clay pots for fermenting meat and fruits. Kent tested the durability of these pots and found them lacking, but they would serve as a temporary "Fire Bomb 1.0" version to quickly produce a batch.

The clay pots were handcrafted without a wheel, which would have ensured uniform shapes. However, Kent didn't mind their appearance, only their functionality. A wheel could improve efficiency and appearance, but the problem was…

Kent didn't know how to make a wheel…

Kent specified that the new clay pots should have a slightly longer neck, similar to a wine bottle but with a larger body. To prevent the pots from breaking easily, he had Graybeard gather some skilled elders and women to wrap each clay pot in a woven outer layer of dried grass stems.

Kent ordered the production of 500 firebomb clay pots for the first batch. Factoring in the travel time for villagers to collect black oil from the valley and the time required to weave the grass stem coverings, it would take approximately three to four days.

During the wait, Kent wasn't idle.

He decided to try making a coal stove.

The winters here were far too cold…

Progress must be made step by step, just as meals are eaten bite by bite. After absorbing the dual influences of material and spiritual civilization from another world, Kent now prioritized the livelihood and defense of the people.

The coal stove would mark a significant advancement in the territory's development.

A gray-haired blacksmith stood nervously before Kent, watching as he sketched a strange design on the ground with a long stick.

It was a short, round structure with a grate near the bottom, a small opening on the side, a lid on top, and a long cylinder extending out.

"This part needs to be thicker; it can be a bit wider, roughly 40 centimeters… Oh, wait, you don't understand that measurement. Let's say about the length of a forearm. Got it?" Kent explained, gesturing.

"Understood, Chief," replied the blacksmith, though he was visibly tense. But in his area of expertise—smithing—he was confident.

"Good. This long cylinder here should be as thin as possible. It's basically a chimney… well, you might not know that term either. Just keep it thin and roll it into a tube." Kent continued to explain patiently.

"Understood, Chief," the blacksmith answered quickly.

"Right, and make a pot as well," Kent added.

"A pot?" The blacksmith and Graybeard exchanged confused glances.

"Yes, let me sketch it for you…" Kent bent down and drew a pot.

In this world, cooking methods were quite primitive, with food roasted on stone slabs or soups boiled in clay pots. They didn't even use oil; frying, sautéing, or deep-frying were unheard of.

The pot Kent wanted was a large iron pot. Improving people's quality of life was essential, starting with basic necessities.

A communal pot would have an immediate impact.

Kent couldn't help but think to himself, being transported to a new world seemed like opening a cooking school…

The sound of metal striking echoed throughout the valley all morning.

Yesterday's snowfall had blanketed the valley with fallen leaves, creating a tawny carpet. The Hunter's Spear River hadn't frozen yet, and many leafless oaks and tall ironwood trees stood on either side, where most buildings were built from branches, stones, and wet soil mixed together.

The valley stretched inward, with many neglected slopes. In the past, when the territory was more populated, the valley had fields, fruit trees, and grazing land for herbivores. But as the border became desolate, many villagers moved to the plateau, where working as guards or laborers seemed better than staying in an isolated valley.

Without enough people, fields and shelters were gradually reclaimed by the wilderness. The Chief's plans to restore the valley faced daunting challenges.

"Splitting Blade, what's the Chief up to?" Withered Leaf asked.

"How would I know?" Splitting Blade shrugged. "Looks like he's serious about being a leader."

"And what's his other option? He's got no strength right now; I doubt he could return to the plateau," Withered Leaf sighed.

"Who knows…" Splitting Blade replied. "But he was something else with the Tiger Tribe yesterday."

"No kidding. A real loss for the Wild Tribe, losing such a leader. If he ever returns to the plateau…"

"Yeah, we'll take it one step at a time. We're all in this together," Splitting Blade said.

While the guards chatted, Kent focused on inspecting the blacksmith's finished work.

With a look of resignation, Kent stared at the coal stove prototype.

It was a tube as thick as a forearm, but instead of being the diameter, it was actually the tube's thickness…

Was this a cannon barrel? Then again, it could probably work as a crude cannon…

Kent's mind raced. In this world, any new creation could be useful, a potential tool for the territory's development. Though cannons and firearms were far out of reach, this long tube could work as a defensive tool if attached to a long rod with a piston and filled with black oil.

A flamethrower…

Kent cleared his throat, mentally reminding himself, "Everything has a use, a big use…" and then smiled at the blacksmith.

"Blacksmith, though this doesn't match my exact specifications, I do have a use for it. Make several more based on this design. Now, about my earlier measurements…"

"Understood, Chief," the blacksmith replied.

Clang! Clang!

Clang! Clang!

"This metal sheet, roll it up, and leave a hole in the middle; otherwise, why roll it?"

"Understood, Chief," the blacksmith answered.

Clang! Clang!

Clang! Clang!

"The corner can't just be bent directly; if you do that, there's no gap. You need to…"

"Understood, Chief."

Clang! Clang!

Clang! Clang!

After many retries, a sturdy coal stove finally took shape.

Thinking of how tribes on the plateau faced the winter, Kent smiled with satisfaction.

This product could bring in the first earnings…

"Bring me some dry wood," Kent ordered.

When Splitting Blade brought a massive log, Kent's face darkened.

Better handle it himself…

He patted Splitting Blade's shoulder and grabbed some dry wood chips from the stack.

He lit the chips and tossed them into the stove. As smoke began to rise, then fade, and flames took hold, Kent's face showed satisfaction.

Just like lighting a stove back home.

He instinctively reached to the side for a coal tongs, only to remember there was none here.

He chuckled and tapped his forehead. There was still a lot to make.

Several guards, along with the blacksmith and Graybeard, watched their Chief crouched by the strange stove, smiling to himself as he carefully placed coal into it.

As the stove grew warmer, Kent felt immense satisfaction.

"Splitting Blade," he called out.

"Yes, Chief."

"Bring some potatoes and bison meat."

"On it."

The stove crackled as it cooked the meat and potatoes to perfection.

A group gathered around the Chief, enjoying the warmth from the strange new stove, and were honored to taste the Chief's roasted meat and potatoes.

"Chief, what exactly is this?" Splitting Blade stuffed a hot potato slice into his mouth, yelping at the heat but swallowing it quickly.

"Oh, it's a secret." Kent chuckled.

"A secret? It's right here!" Splitting Blade licked his lips, still hungry for more, and eyed Graybeard's potato slice.

"Graybeard, how's the potato?" he asked.

"Delicious, Lord Splitting Blade," Graybeard answered with delight as he quickly ate his slice.

"Blacksmith, if an experienced smith works on this stove, how many could be made in a day?"

"Understood, Chief," the white-haired blacksmith nodded, now out of habit.

"The Chief asked how many could be made in a day…" Graybeard smacked his head.

"Ah… two, at most. But it's simple work; with apprentices to help, we could make three or four daily."

"Good. Start recruiting."

"Chief, that's a bit quick, don't you think? You haven't told us what it's for."

"You want to go climb a mountain?"

"… I was wrong, Chief."