Chapter 8: War Alchemy

Having dismissed the servant Ron, Eugene was thrilled to take a look at the "goods" on the ground of the tent.

"Haha, how can I become a reincarnator if I don't implement my great ideas?"

Before him lay stacks of sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter—the simple ingredients of gunpowder. Eugene saw the promise of this ancient formula; it had shattered the armor of feudal knights and helped conquerors in their pursuit of empires.

"This time, gunpowder will work for me, Eugene Lionheart, to 'civilize' this strange world."

Initially, Eugene planned to manufacture matchlock or flintlock firearms in quantity, instructing Philip to hire a team of blacksmiths. But spring planting was on the horizon, and the farmers were too busy attending to their own equipment to volunteer. Instead, he had to seek out a couple of blacksmiths to try out with, hoping to make the "great significance" of his creation by staging a demonstration of firepower.

He quickly promoted to the newly arrived servant in the adjacent tent.

"Ron likely instructed you to hold your breath about what goes on here. Otherwise." He cut a hard gesture across his throat, meaning the risk of disclosure.

Compliance was acknowledged by nods.

"Fine. Round up everybody; we're going to craft a secret weapon—a device that will shift the balance of battle. If you all do your job, good-looking rewards await you."

He pointed to a familiar servant, "Kelly, you'll oversee this group from now on."

With a flourish, he revealed the gunpowder ingredients he had brought along. "This is saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. To the untrained eye, they seem ordinary, but I've discovered that when mixed in the right proportions, they create a volatile substance."

Without a hint of humility, Eugene claimed the credit for the discovery.

He gradually mixed the three powders together in a ratio of one saltpeter, two sulfur, and three charcoal. Having instructed everyone to step back, he lit the mixture with a long matchstick, igniting it with a torch held at a safe distance.

"Ahh!" gasps echoed inside the tent.

The powder flared into a vivid light, followed by a thick cloud of smoke, and a strong smell filled the air.

"Did you notice? The reaction was so intense; it combusted almost at once."

Indeed, the once pile of powder now consisted of nothing but scraps.

"The lord wants to use this to make a weapon?" one of the astute servants asked, grasping the implications.

"Aye. I call this mixture gunpowder, and it shall be our means of combating burglars. However, merely incinerating it will not help; it needs to be restricted so that it can unleash its explosive power and thereby become an actual threat to our enemies."

"This is a crude idea. This weapon is still on the drawing board. We need to figure out the formula and put it in a suitable container. I'm counting on all of you to provide ideas. I promise you, for each good idea I accept, you will receive a minimum of a silver coin. The better the idea, the greater the reward."

There was fervor created amongst the men hearing talk of coin. They assured to deliver and not let down their lord.

"But," Eugene continued, his voice now stern, "you've seen the demo. This material is very dangerous. If it is not used as it should, it could damage not only you but even individuals around you. I will institute safety measures to be learned by heart. Surprise checks will be conducted by me, and people who are not compliant will get fired. For ensuring secrecy, individuals leaving the project will see their lives revolutionized."

The group nodded eagerly, a mix of fear and encouragement forcing them to embrace their roles.

Eugene ordered for a soldier and had him take the new recruits for a tour of the camp with some blacksmiths remaining behind.

He went to one of the older blacksmiths, "You're Herman, are you not? The castle's blacksmith?"

"Yes, my lord. My family has served the Earl for generations. I forged the old Earl's armor."

"Good to know. You just witnessed the potency of gunpowder. What do you think?"

"My lord, indeed you are a mastermind. If I had not witnessed the material and process with my own eyes, I would have dismissed it as mere myth."

Eugene was filled with pride at the praise from the people of the outside world.

"Yes. but what I showed you is only the tip of the iceberg. There are far more advanced and developed uses for gunpowder."

"Oh? That's why I'm still standing here, is it? Explain it to me, my lord."

Eugene unrolled a piece of parchment, revealing a detailed drawing. "Study this design carefully. I wish you to make me a weapon from this plan.".

From that day on, a part near the training camp was off-limits for ordinary soldiers, guarded through the day and night by internal security. But enigmatic explosions quite often rang from within, luring inquisitive bystanders who were promptly taken away for "tea" by the newly formed picket team.

But explosive devices and improvised pipes were not enough to satisfy the Earl. They doubled their work to hire skilled metal casters, looking for those with experience in bell-making and with bronze.

Another group soon formed, consisting of burly men like Makarov. In addition to their regular training, they received special exercises, hurling highly polished stones into circles traced on the ground.

They called themselves Grenadiers.

Others whispered to each other, wondering if the lord's budget had run so low as not to be able to pay for proper weapons, instead relying on stones. But with longer-range slings, they thought, the stones could still effectively reach the enemy. The idea of throwing heavy stones over and over again, though, left them questioning their own stamina.