The blacksmith workshop was under construction, but it was far from complete. In Gawain's plans, this wooden building was unlike anything people in this world might recognize as a "blacksmith workshop."
To simplify things for everyone, he temporarily referred to it as a blacksmith workshop.
In truth, he intended to name this place the "Cecil Steelworks"...
As the only blacksmith in the territory, Old Hammel found himself puzzled by the Duke's order to build such a "blacksmith workshop." In his opinion, the building occupied an unnecessarily large area. In addition to an unusually large wooden shed, it included an open space nearly a hundred meters across, along with a wooden frame that only had a few supporting beams erected. To call such a massive structure a "blacksmith workshop" seemed entirely out of place.
Yet he dared not say that the legendary founding Duke was just a clueless outsider meddling in things he didn't understand. Although he thought it, he would never dare say it aloud.
After all, he was just a commoner, and his lord was a noble who could stand on equal footing with the king himself.
Due to the massive footprint of this "blacksmith workshop," it could only be placed on the eastern edge of the camp, with its "big yard" extending into the barren land outside. It looked rather odd, like a protruding piece of a neat wooden fence. The equipment brought from Tanzan Town looked pitifully small within this enormous workshop, occupying barely a corner of the wooden shed. The only smelting furnace was set up outside, sheltered under a simple wooden canopy to protect it from wind and rain.
As for Gawain, he had allotted such a vast area for the workshop and placed it near the territory's edge solely for future production needs and ease of expansion. The traditional, small blacksmith workshops of this era—one master with a few apprentices, a small hut with a furnace, and the steady clang of ironwork—were simply not what he needed.
But for now, he had no way to explain all this to the old blacksmith or his slow-witted apprentices.
Aside from considerations for production capacity and future expansion, Gawain had no intention of building a traditional furnace, as old Hammel had done.
When Gawain arrived at the workshop, Rebecca was already there, along with the white-haired old blacksmith Hammel, his apprentices, and several villagers in short tunics standing in the yard. At their feet were large baskets filled with the first batch of ore.
Gawain walked straight to the traditional furnace.
It was a rather crude-looking furnace, about a meter tall, clearly divided into two sections: the lower part was a rounded, hemispherical structure, and above it narrowed into a cylindrical form. On the lower section, there were two openings. One opening was at the bottom, evidently for adding fuel, while the other was near the cylindrical part, likely where the ore could be added.
These parts were nothing special—just an ordinary smelting furnace—but what set it apart was a series of three runes on its side.
The three runes were etched on black stone slabs. Each stone had been carefully polished and precisely positioned before being embedded in the furnace to ensure equal spacing and parallel alignment.
On the lowest slab was a triangular symbol with a wavy line inside it, the starting character for the fire element in magical texts. The middle slab displayed a square with a diamond inside, the starting character for the earth element. The uppermost slab bore a whirlpool-like symbol, related to the wind element but not a starting character.
Aside from these three stones, Gawain noticed a faint shimmer in the materials forming the furnace—a trace of quartz sand, or "this world's" quartz sand.
Quartz sand had weak magical conductivity properties. Though its effect was minimal, it was affordable enough for commoners to use and therefore widely applied.
Gawain looked up and cast a glance at the old blacksmith. "Did you make this furnace?"
"Yes, yes, my lord..." Old Hammel, hearing his lord's question, nervously clutched his hat and quickly lowered his head to answer. "Oh, I made half of it myself and directed the apprentices for the other half..."
Gawain nodded, not asking further questions.
Magic was a supernatural force, typically beyond the reach of "commoners." Yet, in this magic-infused world, even those who could not cast spells lived with magical traces in their daily lives.
Basic uses of magic didn't require spellcasting knowledge or skill. Everyone had a slight trace of magical power within them, and by using certain materials and inscribing simple symbols on objects of particular shapes, anyone could slightly tap into the omnipresent magical energies.
This wasn't true spellcasting, and its effects were so minor as to be laughable to genuine "extraordinary individuals." It was like picking up a stick off the ground to use as a cane or smashing a walnut with a rock—no technical skill involved. Even illiterate peasants could remember how to draw a few symbols with weak effects.
But this minor touch of magical power was what distinguished this world from Gawain's homeland.
Like that one extra degree Celsius needed to boil water.
With those three runes, this "traditional furnace" could produce molten iron using wood as fuel, without a bellows and without any optimized structure. If the fire element rune were etched on a piece of mithril, the furnace could even operate on straw as fuel!
Yet, due to the existence of these ancient runes, humanity in this world had never considered improving furnace efficiency through better fuel combustion. They had only improved the materials used for the runes and the formatting of the runes themselves.
This was why Gawain hadn't built a blast furnace and instead came to observe this primitive, traditional furnace.
Old blacksmith Hammel grew increasingly anxious as he observed the noble before him. He didn't understand why the Duke was studying the furnace so intently, nor did he know if he had done something wrong. All he knew was that nobles were powerful and unpredictable, although both Lady Rebecca and previous lords were considered kind and lenient. But this man was a legendary hero—a warrior through and through, and a Duke. What would such a noble be like?
But this man standing before him was the legendary pioneer hero, a thoroughbred warrior, and a duke. What kind of character would a noble of such stature possess?
While the old blacksmith anxiously pondered this, Gawain finally straightened up and asked his second question: "With a furnace like this, assuming a sufficient ore supply, how much iron can you produce in a day?"
Hammel let out a sigh of relief; finally, a normal question.
"If we're using the ore from over there, we can produce fifty pounds of iron a day," the old blacksmith replied with a touch of pride.
Gawain, however, furrowed his brow at this answer. "Only that much?"
Even with the aid of those runes, was the output really so limited?
"That's… still not enough?" Hammel muttered, then quickly added nervously, "Not that I'm doubting your judgment, my lord, but…"
"Don't worry," Gawain reassured him. "You don't need to feel tense when speaking with me. I'm your lord, here to protect you—not a marauder out to harm you."
"Yes... yes, my lord..." Hammel stammered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But this really is the limit. The furnace may look big on the outside, but inside it's actually quite small. And after every batch, we have to let it rest for an hour to cool down the runes. That means we have to cool the entire furnace before we can start it up again. So, when all is said and done, fifty pounds a day really is the maximum."
"Cool down the runes?" Gawain raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," Hammel explained. "These are just simple symbols carved by us common folk onto black stones. They're nothing compared to the true magical runes used by wizards. They wear out easily, especially the fire rune. Prolonged exposure to fire will cause it to crack, and using sturdier material doesn't help. Once the rune breaks, the whole furnace becomes useless. So, we absolutely cannot keep the furnace running continuously when smelting iron."
"What if the furnace was bigger?" Gawain asked.
"That wouldn't work either..." Hammel replied, troubled, wondering why the Duke kept asking such difficult questions. "The runes only provide so much firepower. If we make the furnace bigger, it won't get hot enough to melt the ore. And the earth rune would fail too, which means the iron would have more impurities—totally unusable."
Gawain stroked his chin thoughtfully. "So the only thing limiting your output is the runes themselves?"
Hammel blinked. He didn't fully understand the term "limiting output," but he nodded earnestly. "Yes, yes, it's all because of the runes."
Gawain turned to Rebecca. "What do you think about swapping the runes for... actually, maybe we should call Hety over..."
Rebecca's face flushed immediately. "Ancestor, I know magical theory! I just can't construct spell models, that's all..."
"Your theoretical knowledge is sound?" Gawain raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you suggest we do to solve this issue?"
Rebecca thought hard. "Well, since you said the runes are the weak point, why not replace them?"
"Replace them with what?"
Rebecca continued, "The functions of these runes are all pretty basic—raising temperature, controlling airflow, managing impurities. But these effects are very weak. If we used a proper magic array instead, efficiency could increase by multiple times, and magic arrays can self-regulate energy. They wouldn't need cooling breaks and wouldn't self-destruct either…"
Gawain raised an eyebrow. "Carve a magic array on each furnace?"
"But that wouldn't work…" Rebecca stuck out her tongue sheepishly. "Aunt Hety and I could manage a few magic arrays, but… the blacksmith and his apprentices wouldn't be able to use them!"