MTL - Iron Powder and Spellcasters-Chapter 397 storm (end)

   Chapter 397 Storm (End)

   After the spectacular fire tornado and the roaring Eyin Cathedral perished, the fires on the South Bank had no more power to attack.

  The fire scene in the old city was divided and surrounded one by one, eventually running out of fuel and dying unwillingly.

   By the afternoon of the next day, the fire in the city had been basically extinguished, but the lingering fire that spread to the mountain continued to spread three days later.

   The Interim Military Management Committee issued a notice to change the primary task to controlling wildfires.

   The conscripted militia had just rebuilt the chain of command according to the preparation of the previous winter training, and immediately led by officers at all levels into the mountains south of the city to fight the fire once again.

   There are only a few military police and militiamen to maintain order in the city for the time being.

  The garrisons in neighboring states have been notified one after another, and reinforcements are coming to Steel Fort day and night. However, the messenger to the horn fort has not yet returned any news.

   Compared with firefighting, post-disaster disposal is more troublesome.

   On the night of the fire, many workshops along the coast were looted, and a lot of the ordnance stored in the workshops was lost.

   Then the fire quickly got out of control, and escape became the top priority, so a considerable part of the ordnance was directly abandoned at the fire site on the south bank.

   Another part of the ordnance was carried by the refugees and was seized by the army checkpoints when they left the city.

   There is also a part of the ordnance that flowed into the less-stricken North Shore, whose whereabouts are unknown and need to be seized urgently.

   As for the workshops that were not looted, but also suffered fire or were demolished, they were temporarily sealed by the army.

   Due to the tradition of bringing their own weapons to fight, the laws of the Republic of Monta allow civilians to carry weapons and armor.

   So how to distinguish between "lost ordnance" and "weapons originally held by citizens" and recover them is a big problem.

   In addition, the weapons that have been recovered come from dozens of different workshops, and now they are all mixed up, how can they be returned to their original owners? Also a big problem.

The    ordnance problem is just a microcosm of the difficulties faced in post-disaster disposal.

  It's not just weapons that are missing. Even if thousands of houses, shops and warehouses in the old city are reduced to ashes, there will always be some things left.

  People who lost everything cherished the only property left, and the next morning before the fire was completely extinguished, some people ventured back to the city to see what was left.

   Also, on the night that the garrison took over the steel castle, in order to keep the road smooth, a large number of carriages were pushed directly into the Rose River. So that the river is full of tables and chairs, clothes, tableware and all kinds of things that can be taken away from home.

   At that time, it was a matter of urgency and authority, but it also dug a big hole for the finishing work in the future.

   Even the above are not the most pressing problems. In and out of Steelcastle, tens of thousands of hungry and homeless refugees are staring fearfully into the future.

   Putting out a fire is not the end, putting out a fire is just the end of the beginning.

  …

  [Steel Castle, South Bank of the Old Town]

  [Garrison temporary command post]

   The sky was overcast, and the sun could not be seen.

   Due to the terrain surrounded by mountains, the smoke and dust from the fire stayed in the sky above the steel castle, and it was difficult to disperse for a long time.

   Everyone in line covered their mouths and noses with scarves, and Ernst Fuller was no exception.

   Holding back the urge to cough and vomit, he wrapped his cloak a little tighter, doing his best not to draw extra attention.

   On Fuller's right hand, a few steps away, a dead man was hanged on a gallows from a new tree.

  A wooden board hangs on the chest of the dead man, and the cause of death is written in a few strokes - [I robbed].

  Two crows landed on the shoulders of the dead, one on the left and one on the right.

  The dead man was pushed by the wind and swayed gently, his mindless eyes glanced at the living people who were lining up, but the living people deliberately avoided his gaze.

The    queue moved forward slowly, and Fuller finally got a little further away from the corpse, which gave him a little psychological relief from his tumultuous stomach.

   Martial law did not end with the fire, and Steel Castle was still under the control of the army.

  The way the army established order was brutal and ruthless, and any criminal—even if it was just stalking—would be hanged after a simple trial.

   Looking around, there are the same broken walls and ruins everywhere, only the gallows erected along the road are brand new.

  Fuller lowered his head and focused on the calf of the person in front of him, but his mind was gradually occupied by other things.

   What he's been through is so crazy that he's still dizzy.

   The cloak, the assassin, the strange touch of the icy blade inserted into the thigh, the smooth brain content dripping to the ground...

   In just a few days, he was reduced from a decent forge master to a sad speculator on the verge of bankruptcy, and then was wiped out by a fire that wiped out all his wealth and even lost his qualification for bankruptcy.

   But there is a ray of light in the desperate situation, showing a turning point...

The    team took a few steps forward, and Fuller was still standing dumbfounded. It wasn't until someone behind him coughed in dissatisfaction that he regained his senses and hurriedly followed.

If someone with good deeds comes over at this moment and asks the identity of the people in line one by one, he will be surprised to find that the people in this long queue, if not the respected master of the forge, are at least free people with civil rights .

   It is a wonder that so many "people who really own Steel Castle" can wait in line like ordinary soldiers.

   But none of the people in line were in the mood to appreciate the comments, and most of them were like Fuller: hooded, gloomy, silent.

   It is not difficult to understand. Anyone who has been destroyed by a fire has no heart to joke now.

  The long line was creeping slowly, and everyone who passed the post was carefully searched, and Fuller was no exception.

   A sergeant held the halberd and looked at Fuller with the eyes of a prisoner. Two soldiers approached Fuller and motioned for Fuller to open his arms.

  Fuller was stared at a little uncomfortable, and turned his head to look at the Rose River.

  In the middle of the river, some militiamen were led by soldiers who looked like soldiers, carefully salvaging debris on the ice.

   The reed-wheel pistol that Fuller was carrying was quickly found—of course, Fuller had no intention of hiding it.

   Sergeant with a halberd took the short spear from his subordinate, frowned, and asked in a bad tone, "What are you bringing this for?"

   "Self-defense." Fuller whispered.

   Sergeant with a halberd checked the chamber of the gun and the gunpowder pool, but did not see lead bullets and gunpowder: "Empty?"

  Fuller also felt a little embarrassed: "It's just to scare people."

   The sergeant with the halberd shook his head and put the gun into the box of the sentry box: "Come and pick it up when you go out."

"well."

  From the night the army took over the steel castle, the chapel covered bridge and the nearby houses were requisitioned by the garrison, serving as a temporary command post for the garrison until today.

   Following the directions, Fuller walked into a shop at Qiaotou.

  The original furnishings of the shop have been emptied, and the counter top is completely occupied by the map.

Inside the counter, there are far more shelves than the store should have. In order to place so many shelves, the partitions inside the room were also removed.

   Several clerk-like people were walking between the shelves, busy filing the files, and a few orderlies kept moving whole boxes of files into the room.

   An officer with bloodshot eyes and tousled hair sat behind the counter. Seeing Fuller come in, the officer raised his eyelids slightly: "Name?"

   "Fuller. Ernst Fuller."

   "Is the title deed?"

  Fuller nodded vigorously: "Bring it."

   "Take it and take it out!"

   With Fuller's body temperature, all proofs of the workshop title and the forge were put on the counter.

  The officer glanced at it, turned around and ordered a few words, and several clerks immediately rummaged through the shelves.

   After a while, a clerk walked up to the counter with a copy of the scroll.

   Comparing with the supplementary volume kept in the city hall, the temporary clerk who originally belonged to the city government confirmed that the land deed was not forged, and nodded lightly to the officer.

  The officer took the title deed, marked the location on the map, rang the bell to call a messenger, and told Fuller without looking up, "He will take you there."

  Fuller wanted to ask something else, but the officer was already urging impatiently: "Next!"

The    messenger took the map, raised his hand to salute, and then walked out the door. Fuller also confusedly followed the other party out of the shop.

   walked out the door, and the messenger asked skillfully, "Do you have a lot of stuff in your shop?"

   "A lot."

   "Then go get a carriage first." The messenger took Fuller to the stable: "And then ask two militiamen to help carry things."

  Fuller recalled his warehouse and said hesitantly, "I'm afraid one carriage won't be enough."

   "Hey, don't worry, the masters I met today were worried that there wouldn't be enough carriages." The messenger grinned: "Only when I got there, I found out that one carriage was full."

  The messenger drove the carriage, carrying Fuller and two militiamen, and slowly drove out of the bridgehead camp.

   Walking in the current old town is easy to get the wrong direction, because the once cramped and dark streets and alleys have completely changed their appearance.

  The place where workshops, churches and prefabricated houses were once reduced to ruins. There are no landmarks to tell people where they are. Only the remnants of the spire of the Elin Cathedral in the distance still stand amazingly.

  The workshop of the Fuller family is not difficult to find, just a short walk along the river bank. It took Fuller some time just to accept the workshop as it is today.

  The walls of the workshop collapsed, the roof collapsed, and the two forges of which Fuller's father and grandfather were proud were buried in the rubble.

   The warehouse where two heavy-loaded carriages could have been parked, but only a small section of the smoked black wall remained stubbornly refusing to fall.

The    messenger whistled: "Look for something worth taking away."

  Fuller walked into the collapsed warehouse so that no one else could see his tears.

  To be honest, he thought he didn't like the workshop: it was too loud, it was too small, and there was that rafter that he would bump into if he was not careful.

   But at this moment, he felt a surge of grief inexplicably. Not because of the loss of property, but because the traces of grandfather and father have since been erased.

   "We can't clean up such a large area alone." The messenger followed: "How about I find a few more people?"

   "No, no," Fuller replied unconsciously. He sucked his nose hard, and based on memory, he found the area that should be the warehouse shelf, and began to clean up the clods and burnt wood on the top layer.

  The two militiamen also silently extended their hands to help.

   After the wooden structure was burned, it was carbonized even if it was not burnt out, so it was easy to move it.

   As soon as they worked together to remove a few thick beams, a militiaman suddenly screamed. Fuller followed the militia and knocked down, and couldn't help but shudder.

  Under the beam, a corpse that had not been burnt was lying down. The bare skin was charred and cracked, revealing crimson flesh.

The    messenger came over and glanced at it, kicked the beam on the corpse lightly, and came to a conclusion: "The mob who took advantage of the robbery was not very lucky, and the roof was crushed to death."

  The two militiamen were a little overwhelmed, and the messenger did not intend to help. Fuller stood for a while, bent his round waist, grabbed the charred corpse by the shoulders and dragged it out of the ruins.

   Never thought that although the upper body of the charred corpse was dragged by Fuller, the lower body remained in place, and the contents of the abdominal cavity of the corpse were scattered all over the place.

  The two militiamen couldn't stand it, so they rushed outside the courtyard and vomited.

The    messenger also turned his head in disgust, and kindly persuaded: "If you don't move the corpse, just stay here first, so as not to delay your search."

   "No." Fuller gritted his teeth: "This is a workshop left by my father and my grandfather, how can a thief use it as a tomb?"

The    messenger didn't say anything else, and bent down to help Fuller. The two spent some effort and finally got the corpse outside the workshop.

  Fuller gratefully held out his hand to the messenger, but the messenger just covered his nose and shook his head.

   Cleanup continued, and another beam was removed, this time by Fuller who let out a scream—a scream of surprise.

   Under the watchful eyes of the other three, the plump white forge master knelt on the ground, digging back and forth in the ashes with no respect.

   Soon, a musket was picked up by Fuller. Although the barrel has been smashed and the **** is burnt black, a musket is a musket, no doubt about it.

  Encouraged, Fuller continued to rummage down, and more stacked musket bodies were exposed to the air, pinned under the rubble.

  The messenger looked around the ruins, estimated the original layout of the house, and felt his chin to analyze: "It seems that the roof is collapsing fast, maybe it's a good thing? If the things by the door are still there, there should be no problem inside."

   Hearing this, Fuller fell to the ground. After a while, he sobbed softly.

The two militiamen looked at each other, but the messenger seemed to have seen nothing and said to himself: "Looking at this, one carriage is definitely not enough, and more people have to come over to clean up the ruins. Well, it's not a big problem. , Steelcastle lacks everything now, but there is no shortage of people... Who, what is your name? It doesn't matter, you go back to Captain Hut, ask the captain to send three accountants, and say we found a good warehouse ."

The    militiamen saluted, turned and ran to the camp.

The    messenger pulled up Fuller and helped the latter to slap the dust off his body, without saying anything consoling. Fuller, who wiped away his tears, kept thanking him.

   You must know that the forge owners usually don't look at the big soldiers, but the current situation is rare.

   On this side, Fuller was crying and laughing, and on the other side, a single carriage came from the east.

  The gray-bearded old man in the car saw several people in the ruins, narrowed his eyes to distinguish for a moment, suddenly stood up, and asked loudly, "Ernst? Is that you?"

  Fuller wiped his face indiscriminately and walked towards the main road.

   Greeting Fuller was another forge owner named Georg. Georg is the same generation as Fuller's father, but he was not very close to the Fuller family in the past, and had very little contact.

   It's just that the forge owners of Steel Castle have just experienced a catastrophe together, and the old strangeness and prejudice have also been diluted, and everyone has a sense of grief in the face of each other.

  Georg picked up the water bladder from the car and handed it to Fuller: "How is the situation in your workshop?"

   Just as Fuller was about to answer, he suddenly remembered that ray of life, and his mind suddenly became sharp.

   He took the water bag, took a sip, shook his head gently, and did not speak.

Georg spat into the peat by the roadside, and his beard was shaking with anger: "It's a thief again, it's a fire again, and those who haven't been caught by thieves have been demolished by the legion, what a **** hell. !"

   "Where's your house?" Fuller asked.

Old Georg slapped his thigh and scolded: "The workshop let the legion blow up with gunpowder, and the warehouse is left half, but there is no use for it? The good swords have been fired once, and they are all useless! If it is burned and deformed, it has to be sent to hardening again, but where can I find a hardener now? Who can I sell it to after hardening?"

   Fuller's thoughts moved, and he kept nodding his head.

"I heard that there are a lot of workshops left on the north bank. Alas, why didn't I put the forge on the north bank?" I also put everything on the Nancheng Wharf, who knows? Who knows that these things will happen?"

  Fuller echoed and comforted the old man, and then tentatively asked: "Uncle Georg, what are you going to do with the rest of your goods?"

   Hearing this, the old man who was still tossing and turning and regretting just now suddenly regained his spirit: "What? Do you have a way?"

  Fuller is noncommittal: "You have to be prepared, no matter what, the knife and sword blades that have been fired once cannot be the original price."

  Old Georg stared at Fuller for a long time, and asked suspiciously: "I remember, your father never used a hardener outside, and your house also has an annealing furnace?"

   "My workshop only makes gun barrels, not sword bars."

"You don't fool me!" Old Georg slapped his thigh again and spit on Fuller's face: "You took away my sword bar cheaply, hardened it again, and then used it as a brand new sword bar. Sell! Good boy, when did you learn to be so treacherous? It's more treacherous than the Veneta!"

   Fuller wanted to explain that he was just a middleman. But he remembered the other party's request - as little as possible to reveal the real buyer.

   So the fat white Ernst Fuller was heartbroken and asked bluntly: "Just say whether you sell it or not!"

  Georg took a breath. The old man's lips pursed and pursed, and finally jumped out of the carriage and dragged Fuller to a place where no one was around: "Negotiate a price first."

   Fuller stood still and whispered, "I have one more request."

   "Trouble! Say it!"

   "Confidentiality. You can't tell others that I bought it." Fuller thought for a while and added a reasonable motive for himself.

  Georg glanced at the surrounding militiamen: "As long as you don't tell others that I sold it to you."

  …

  [Steel Castle, North Shore of Old Town]

  [City Palace]

The three landmark buildings of   Steel Castle, the Erin Cathedral is on the south bank, and the Municipal Palace and the Parish Headquarters are all on the north bank.

   A fire broke out overnight and the roof of the Elin Cathedral collapsed, but the Municipal Palace and the Parish Headquarters will be safe and sound.

  From the day after the fire in the city was brought under control, Steelcastle City Councillors who still had the ability to gather at the City Hall, and then… began to discuss.

  The topics discussed covered various aspects, such as: refugee resettlement and relief, post-disaster reconstruction, whether to levy special taxes and so on.

   There are also some very sharp issues. For example, some congressmen believe that the garrison’s takeover of Steel Fort is a serious violation of the laws of the Autonomous Prefecture and the Republic, and trampling on the property rights of citizens. The city government should immediately submit a petition to the General Assembly for compensation.

   There are also members who believe that, according to the law, the command of the Steel Castle Militia belongs to the mayor elected by the city council, and the legion should immediately return the command.

   However, the above issues are limited to discussions, and the discussions have been unsuccessful until today.

   On the other hand, the steel castle is now completely in the hands of the military. Without discussing it, what else can the councilors do?

   On the first floor of the conference hall, the members held their own opinions and debated fiercely.

   On the second floor of the council hall, a young lady wearing a blue veil sat quietly in the corner.

  A figure quietly walked up to the second floor of the council hall and came to the side of the young lady. The guards recognized the faces of those who did not stop them.

  The visitor took off his hat and held it in his hand, and saluted respectfully: "Madam."

  Anna gracefully returned the salute: "Mr. Fuller."

   "Your Excellency the Baron is..."

   "He has other things."

   "Understand, understand." Fuller nodded again and again: "I'm here..."

   "Don't worry." Anna's eyes turned to the audience: "Listen first."

Senator Servette's dry voice came from the first floor: "...distributed relief and aid is less efficient and effective than general relief and aid, and the possibility of the military compensating for losses during disaster relief is close to zero. . Considering the above factors, an additional special chattel tax is the only viable option."

   The audience suddenly shouted:

   "Special chattel tax?"

   "What crazy talk!"

   "Steel Castle has just experienced a fire, and tax increases at this time?"

   A calm male voice overshadowed the other noises - it was Iron Hand Geisberger: "Mr. Senator, who is the target of the special chattel tax you plan to levy? The Blacksmiths Guild has no extra funds."

"The Blacksmiths' Guild has no extra funds, but other guilds have." Senator Servette's tone remained the same: "The purpose of imposing the chattel tax is not to take funds from the Blacksmiths' Guild, but to use the funds of other guilds to rescue the Blacksmiths. Guild."

   "Which guild has the money to help the Blacksmith's Guild?"

   "According to my calculations..."

"Don't count any more!" Geisberger interrupted Servette's speech: "Instead of spending energy to embezzle the assets of other guilds, it is better to find a way to get the garrison to return the collected ordnance to us as soon as possible. Each workshop has its own As long as it takes some time, it will be returned to its original owner sooner or later.”

   "This is another thing I said. Returning things to the original owner is not worth the loss. The best strategy is for the city government to come forward and buy all the ordnance in the form of guaranteed debts, and assist all workshops to rebuild without discrimination..."

   The audience shouted again:

   "Ridiculous!"

   "Where does the city government get the money to guarantee the debts of all the workshops? Is it possible to mortgage the Municipal Palace?"

The voice of Iron Hand Geisberger sounded again: "The hardworking blacksmith makes money, and the lazy blacksmith loses money. This has always been the case. Some workshops are run well, some workshops are not well run, and the good ones continue to survive, not The good ones should go bankrupt. Indiscriminately guarantee debts, where is the principle of fairness?!”

Fuller on the second floor became more and more strange. He couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Madam, isn't the Iron Hand Servette's die-hard? Why did he contradict Servette? And mayor Wupper doesn't say a word. Do not say?"

   "Iron Hand opposes Servetus because their interests diverge." Anna supported her chin: "Mayor Wupper didn't speak because he was thinking about three things."

"What's up?"

   "How to clear responsibility and take credit." Anna paused for a moment: "And how to clear responsibility and take credit at the same time."

  Fuller glanced at Paul Wupper, who was wearing a purple robe, and could not help but be dumbfounded.

   "If you have something to do, please tell me, Mr. Fuller."

Fuller was stunned for a moment, then suppressed his joy, and reported as calmly as possible: "At present, four workshop owners have agreed to sell excessive ordnance at a low price—secret delivery. Mr. Gotze is still thinking about it, but I think he Sooner or later I will agree.”

   "You are doing well, Mr. Fuller. More workshop owners should contact you in the next few days, please continue."

   "Then... buy them all?"

   "Yes, all."

   "If you buy them all, so many semi-finished products and scrapped ordnance will leak out sooner or later." Fuller became a little concerned about gains and losses: "What name do you plan to buy?"

   "What name?" Anna smiled: "Of course it's scrap iron."

   [One week before the support, no update, sorry]

   [Originally intended to end the story of Steel Castle in one chapter, but now it seems that a larger chapter is needed]

   [Heat treatment is an important part of the material forming process. After the metal material is overheated, it is easy to lose the original surface properties and even the overall mechanical properties]

   [For example, if a cold weapon is thrown into a furnace to burn red, and then cooled to room temperature, even if the shape remains unchanged, the surface hardness will decrease. That is, the original heat treatment is done in vain, and it has to be re-quenched and tempered]

   [Thank you for your collection, reading, subscription, recommendation ticket, monthly ticket, reward and comment, thank you all]

  

  

   (end of this chapter)