Aftermath of the Rebellion

Translator: Cinder Translations

...

"Ho, ho, is our great chemist going to get involved in political matters?"

Paul said this with a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't think this is a political matter, Lord Grayman. I'm protecting an outstanding talent who may have a bright academic future and could make significant contributions to your territory. Tennyson Fedotov—this is the name of that student. He has been staying at the academy for the past two years, occasionally returning home to visit family. He's a research fanatic, spending most of his time in the laboratory. I can't imagine how someone so insulated from ordinary life could possibly be involved in a rebellion."

After stating his request, Wells lost the timidity he had shown earlier and regained his confidence, passionately defending his student.

"But he has the surname Fedotov," Paul said, his face turning ashen.

Inside, however, he was secretly amused. As soon as Wells mentioned that such a person was imprisoned, Paul had already made a decision, but for some purpose, he still wanted to provoke Wells a bit.

Wells wore an absurd expression, exaggeratedly waving his arms and shouting, "Oh Lord of Light, merely because of a family name that was decided at birth, something he couldn't choose? Oh, my Lord Grayman, I thought you were different from those other bastards, a lord with enlightenment and kindness among other virtues."

Wells' words frightened Burns, who stood nearby. How could he dare to speak about Earl Grayman like this in front of him?

"Wells, speak respectfully," he reminded.

Paul waved his hand to Burns, indicating that he didn't mind, and then turned to Wells, saying, "No matter what, punishing this Fedotov will not incur moral condemnation throughout Aldor."

Wells' expression gradually darkened, and it was evident he was becoming angry. If he were speaking to anyone other than a lord who could take his head, he might have already started cursing.

Alright, Paul thought, that was about enough provocation.

"However..." he changed his tone, "I still consider myself a broad-minded person, especially when it comes to obtaining what I desire."

Obtaining what you desire? Wells caught onto the emphasis in Paul's words.

"So what is it that you want, Lord Grayman? After achieving your goal, can Tennyson be released?"

Paul leisurely moved to a chair beside the workbench, facing Wells directly.

"A few days ago, several merchants from Horns Bay inquired if they could purchase large quantities of affordable and high-quality armor and weapons here at Northwest Industry. But as you know, the metal weapons we can currently mass-produce are mainly wrought iron, which is cheap for foot soldiers, while the high-quality armor for knights requires the blacksmiths to hammer wrought iron into thin sheets, repeatedly smelting them in charcoal fire, or layering pig iron and wrought iron to forge a better-quality iron, commonly known as steel. Only armor and weapons made from such materials can be considered high quality."

"Oh, by the way, I noticed..." Paul added as a side note, "In our current era, there seems to be no strict distinction between iron and steel. In the eyes of most people, steel is merely a better quality iron or simply two interchangeable terms. Now, I formally distinguish them: steel is steel, and iron is iron. Now, let's continue..."

Paul looked at Wells and slowed his speech, "The old methods of converting iron into steel—like the two I just mentioned—are simply too inefficient. What I want to know is, first, what essential changes occur in the process of converting iron into steel? Or what substances increase or decrease that lead to the differing properties of the two? Second, after obtaining the answer to the first question, can we explore a method for large-scale steel production, just like how we smelt iron—flowing continuously from the blast furnace, rather than relying on blacksmiths hammering it out piece by piece?"

Hiss! Burns gasped in shock. The two points raised by Earl Grayman were indeed quite challenging.

Paul continued, "With a method for large-scale steel production, we can meet customer demands and secure their orders. Wells, this is what I want."

Wells gritted his teeth, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "I wonder when Lord Grayman expects results?"

"As long as it's before the verdict, I estimate the interrogation will last a year. Oh, by the way, if you can find the answers, I will pardon Tennyson. But if you can find the answers within six months, not only will Tennyson be pardoned, but also his family—I'm talking about those who did not directly participate in the rebellion."

"Alright! Lord Grayman, my colleagues and I will work hard to find the answers you seek."

Wells nodded in agreement. "However, can Tennyson be allowed to return to the laboratory—under the burden of guilt—because he is my important assistant? I guarantee with my name and life that he absolutely will not escape."

Paul did not respond immediately but fell silent for a few seconds, seemingly deep in thought.

"Alright," he nodded. "Then let him return to your side."

"Thank you, Lord Grayman. I hope to begin work as soon as possible to quickly find your answer, so..."

Paul walked to the table, picked up a pen, wrote something on a blank sheet of paper, and handed it to Wells, saying, "Take this paper to the head of the Public Security Department, Ross Hayden. He knows what to do."

Wells accepted the paper, bowing slightly in gratitude toward Paul before leaving the workshop. He didn't want to waste another moment.

After the door to the workshop closed, Paul said to the remaining Burns, "These alchemists don't work properly unless provoked a bit."

"Huh? What does that mean?" Burns asked.

"Well, if I had directly agreed to him, what would happen? He would return with people, and then I'd assign him a task, asking him every few days about the progress. 'Wells, how's that thing I asked you to do?' He would respond—'Ah? Lord Grayman, I'm working on it? Oh, experimental matters are very troublesome, results can't be obtained immediately.' In fact, he might be secretly using my money to pursue another research project he's interested in. So, I have to give him something to bind him."

"Haha, that makes sense." Just as Burns echoed him, he suddenly felt a chill on his forehead. Was the Earl warning him as well?

He quickly changed the subject, "My lord, you just mentioned clients from Horns Bay... are they from the Horns Bay Alliance?"

While manufacturing weapons and armor for the Horns Bay Alliance, the mechanical factory he was in charge of also undertook some tasks, so he knew.

Paul glanced at him, smiling mysteriously. "No, they're from the Horns Bay Church."

"Huh?" Burns was somewhat surprised.

Paul disclosed, "The visitors from the Horns Bay Church said that while fighting against the enemy—the Protestant army—they encountered some... very strange individuals, suffering significant losses in weapons and defenses. So, they are looking for ways to remedy the disadvantages in both offense and defense, and they heard about us. But relying solely on our previous products would only level the playing field; now they want to gain an advantage."

Burns said, "But you already sold weapons to the Horns Bay Alliance."

"So what?" Paul took a sip of water, looking as if it were obvious. "I'm a qualified arms dealer."

TLN: 👌

(End of the Chapter)

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