In Blood Harbor, inside the prince’s office.
Galahad stood in the room with a gloomy expression, his gaze sharp enough to kill.
“So, that maid nad Zoe actually dragged you around the slums for an entire day?”
Galahad nodded.
“What kind of fetish is this, going to the slums to watch people suffer? Hmph, I’ve heard of people like that... or maybe she was handing out money to the poor?”
Galahad’s face twitched. No longer caring about his image, he lowered his voice and cursed, “Damn it, she wasn’t even doing that. That maid actually went around asking those lowborn people all kinds of questions, writing it all down in a notebook, saying she was going to use it to write a novel!”
“A novel?”
The prince was montarily stunned, then burst into laughter.
“What kind of novel? A love story set in the slums? Who would read sothing like that? You think people who can’t even afford food would pay to read her book?”
“And who’d want to read stories about paupers anyway—hahahahahahaha.”
After laughing his fill, the prince looked toward Galahad, whose face was now as black as the bottom of a pot. Rubbing his stomach, he said softly, “Alright, aside from this Miss Zoe, any other discoveries?”
Galahad nodded stiffly.
“Your Highness, I sent people aboard those Castel ships under the pretense of maintenance and inspection. While they appear similar to ordinary ships and seem to be made of wood, the interior is different.”
“How so?”
“The ship moves forward using two large wheels on the outside that churn the water. But unlike the paddle stears we know of, there’s no sign of animals or people driving the rotation chanism inside.”
The prince froze, then blurted out, “Steam engine!?”
“Uh, probably. They call that chanical device the ‘Clamorer’. Judging by its structure, it’s quite similar to a steam engine. You know, I used to own a factory.”
“Go on.”
“Yes. These steam engines resemble the ones made by the chanical Sanctum in overall design, but there are significant differences in the details and size. The navy once tried installing steam engines on ships, but the attempt failed.”
“The priests from the chanical Sanctum refused to maintain steam engines on ships. They claid the proximity to seawater would offend the sacred machinery.”
“Heh, yet sohow Castel managed to install a steam engine on a ship just fine. I didn’t see their machinery getting offended,” the prince sneered.
“Yes.” Galahad nodded. “There’s one more thing: although the ship looks wooden from the outside, much of the internal decking has been replaced with steel.”
“Steel? They built with steel? Are they that rich? Wait, wouldn’t a ship made of steel just sink?”
“Only certain inner deck sections were replaced with steel—not much. I don’t know why they made that choice.”
The prince frowned, puzzled. The spread of steam engines was still limited. Only a few factories in the Rhine region could afford such costly and fragile equipnt, and iron was still mostly refined by manual labor.
That ant steel production was quite low, and the overall price remained high. Using such a valuable tal—one that could be made into weapons—for deck plating?
The prince couldn’t understand it at all.
In truth, using steel for the deck was a last resort.
Hughes had only intended to cobble things together, so the Clamorer installed on the ship wasn’t custom-designed. It was a standard model, identical to those used in factories.
As a result, it didn’t fit well inside the ship’s hull. Large portions of the original structure had to be dismantled just to install it.
Even the process of securing it was troubleso. Working with wood required precision. Simply mounting the steam engine and re-laying the deck would’ve taken several carpenters more than half a month.
So Hughes opted to use steel instead—after all, he had plenty of it.
Yes, with pollution as a power source, manufacturing steel had beco much easier than working with wood. There was no need to dry or season it. Nini had even managed to hamr it out by hand in a single morning.
Say what you will, it was more than good enough for coastal navigation, and its strength was absolutely guaranteed—far sturdier than the outer wooden hull.
Ironically, Castel’s makeshift solution completely baffled the prince.
“Never mind, just record this for now. We’ll investigate further later. For the ti being, the main objective is still the musket. We have to find a way to get one. I know they’ll guard sothing this valuable closely. Whatever you need—n, supplies, anything—I’ll give it to you. I just want the musket!”
The prince walked up to Galahad and spoke to him seriously. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel-fire.ɴet
Galahad’s expression turned solemn. He knew exactly what this weapon ant for the Principality of Tis. A conflict with the Empire was inevitable. The prince had managed to rally nearly all potential allies, but whether that would be enough against the Empire’s army remained uncertain.
This improved musket was of paramount importance.
If the army of the Principality of Tis could be equipped with it in large numbers...
Galahad swallowed hard.
“That’s enough for today.” The prince, looking exhausted, sank back into the armchair and rubbed his temples.
He lifted his hand and rang the bell on the table. A maid soon entered the room and began tidying up.
As if recalling a bad mory, Galahad stepped back a few paces, putting so distance between himself and the maid.
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“Take these down—actually, never mind. Let’s open them up and take a look.”
The prince pointed at several boxes on the table, glanced at Galahad, and said with a smile, “These were brought in by you, Galahad. I almost forgot.”
Galahad gave them a glance and, after a mont’s thought, suddenly realized, “These are... gifts from Castel?”
“Right.”
The prince casually began opening the boxes. The Principality of Tis had many enemies, and he had plenty of troubles to deal with. This was a rare mont of leisure, and he allowed himself a bit of indulgence.
But soon, his hand stopped moving.
The box sat on the table. He looked inside and couldn’t tear his eyes away.
His eyes widened, his mouth opened and closed, yet no words ca out—like a goldfish with swollen eyelids.
Galahad, confused, looked toward the table.
It was an exquisite long box, made of fine olive wood, lined with dark red velvet on the inside.
And within that box lay a perfectly ordinary, mass-produced—
Bolt-action rifle.
The very bolt-action rifle that the prince and Galahad had expended so much effort trying—and failing—to obtain... Castel had simply included it in the gift box from the beginning.
While they sched, while they debated, while they remained helpless...
This rifle had been lying quietly on the office table, just a few steps away.
With trembling hands, the prince picked up the card inside the box and softly read the inscription.
“To the Grand Duke of Tis—Castel is always generous to its friends.”
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