Chapter 43

"Wait, what? Why not make the iron sheet first, then roll it up and stick it together? Is that how humans do it?" Dwarf Sork looked incredulous, rubbed his beard, and said, "It should work in terms of shape, but it definitely won't be strong enough. Not to brag, but I've seen human craftsmen's weapons, and most of them are just scrap to us."

Dwarf Sork looked down on the human craftsmen of this world, not those from Earth, so Zhao Mai didn't take it to heart. No matter how skilled the dwarven craftsmen were, could they match the power of a ten-thousand-ton forging press?

From the look on Green's face, it seemed he also agreed that dwarven craftsmen were far superior to human craftsmen. If Dwarf Sork's musket worked, or if he had just brought ordinary knives and swords, the merchants of Nibo Town would have treated him as a distinguished guest. Zhao Mai wouldn't have had the chance to pick up such a treasure.

The three of them carefully checked the list, confirming that everything was ready, and then they got to work. Dwarf Sork first needed to make a mold. He skipped the step of using a wooden mold and then a clay mold, directly using large pieces of rock. Dwarves were very skilled with rock tools, and he indeed had commendable abilities in this area.

Zhao Mai, on the other hand, mysteriously held a box of alchemical materials and began making granulated gunpowder. In terms of explosive power, powdered gunpowder burns faster and releases more force instantly. However, a bullet in the barrel needs a sustained push, especially when the seal isn't perfect. A longer burning time can produce a higher initial velocity. The only thing Zhao Mai couldn't determine was the relationship between the size of the grains, the weight of the bullet, and the length of the barrel. It was difficult to conduct standardized and precise experiments, so he just had to leave the rest to fate.

"Which deity is in charge of craftsmen? Should I pray to him?"

"Oh, I've already taken care of that, you don't need to worry about it." Green couldn't help much with the craftsmanship, but he never overlooked such small matters.

Besides praying to the gods, offering sacrifices, and buying meals, Green also handled the group's external communications. The theft at the Fireplace Inn hadn't been fully resolved, and they needed to catch the thief to close the case. The fat innkeeper was afraid of the news of a theft from his inn spreading—though he wasn't too worried about the patrons being robbed—so he was urging the town's constable to close the case quickly.

Closing the case quickly didn't mean recovering the stolen goods. Green understood the merchants' demands and helped them reach an agreement with the victims quickly. Catching the thief and recovering the treasure was too much trouble, so they usually went to the local thieves' guild, who would pay a portion of the money to buy peace.

So the constable would tell the victims, "We've found the thieves; they resisted arrest and were killed. We didn't find your stolen goods; they might have already sold them. But we found some stolen money, which might include the money from your stolen goods. These thieves are also involved in other cases, so we can't give you all the money. What exactly did you lose again?"

No matter what they said they lost, as long as it wasn't something worthless, the constable would hand over some gold coins to the victims. In Zhao Mai's case, the salt had already been recovered, so whatever the constable handed over would be pure profit. As for what Green found in the thieves' den, Zhao Mai explicitly said it was none of his business, and he didn't even want to know.

Now, back to the blacksmith's shop. Since this spans two worlds, there's no need to repeat the formula and manufacturing method for the granulated gunpowder. Anyway, by the time Zhao Mai finished his work, Sork's mold was also ready. When Green returned, the three of them worked together to start smelting iron.

Zhao Mai was responsible for the bellows, Green for adding coal dust and handling tools, while Sork focused on controlling the iron ingot. In reality, only the dwarf was truly putting in the effort; the other two were just helping with minor tasks.

"The temperature is still a bit low; it would be better if it were higher," the dwarf looked at the furnace with some regret.

"Green, throw in a handful of carbon powder!" Zhao Mai was pulling the bellows with all his might, his tongue hanging out as long as his reserve of strength.

The carbon powder had the desired effect, and a look of surprise appeared in Sork's eyes. He rubbed his hands together, and a blood-red light emitted from his palms, spreading up his wrists and arms until it covered his elbows.

"What is that, a dwarf spell?" Zhao Mai asked, but Green shushed him, "Don't disturb him."

The molten iron was poured into the mold, and Sork then leaned over it, listening carefully. He tapped the mold with his knuckles and then picked up a hammer to tap it all over. Zhao Mai watched with wide eyes, completely unable to figure out what he was doing.

The dwarf listened, tapped, and shook, repeating the process. After a short while, he grabbed the mold with both hands and pulled it apart. The stone cracked into small pieces, revealing a long and thick gun barrel.

The iron hadn't fully cooled yet and was still red. The dwarf didn't use tongs but grabbed it directly with his hands. The red light faded slightly but still protected his hands from the high temperature. Every craftsman strives for a good feel, and the dwarf had a way to handle red-hot iron bars directly. Who could match his sense of touch?

The two-meter-long gun barrel looked like a long stick in the dwarf's hands, turning back and forth. He marked a spot with a pair of tongs, indicating where it needed to be cut. Sork signaled Zhao Mai and Green to step back, then cast a dwarf craftsman spell.

The spell looked very impressive, with light and shadow effects that could score ten points, but it was completely incomprehensible. Strong and clear dwarf words appeared in the air, then moved along Sork's red arms and were pressed into the iron tube. At the same time, Sork lifted a large hammer and started pounding, sometimes lightly, sometimes heavily, sometimes straight, sometimes at an angle, and sometimes with a twisting force at the moment of contact.

Wouldn't this bend the hollow tube? If there was a bulge on the inner wall, it could easily cause an explosion... Zhao Mai was anxious but couldn't find a chance to warn him. The dwarf had a rhythm to his work, leaving no room for interruptions.

It seemed the tube still wasn't satisfactory, so Sork occasionally put it back into the furnace. "Increase the heat, add carbon powder!" His deep voice kept ringing out. However, he was now speaking in Dwarvish, and Green had to translate for Zhao Mai to understand. They say life is the best teacher, and the first two Dwarvish phrases Zhao Mai learned were "increase the heat" and "add carbon powder."

Sork hammered away for a long time, and the outer wall of the tube remained uneven. Even Green was puzzled. The two humans squatted to the side, occasionally taking sips of ale to cool down, and waited patiently.

"Done!" The dwarf immersed the iron tube in a water trough, still rubbing it. The red light on his arms gradually faded, returning to normal. "Let's take a break and have something to eat."

Zhao Mai couldn't help but be curious. Once the tube cooled, he picked it up. The smooth and beautiful iron tube was flawless, with no dents or defects. He could only admire it, scratch his head, and exclaim, "Magic is truly amazing..."