Translator: Cinder Translations
...
The workshop buzzed with the constant clang of metal on metal. Workers had already begun their daily tasks, glancing occasionally at the entrance where Mr. Erkins paced restlessly, hands clasped behind his back.
When will Lord Earl arrive?
As he pondered this, a young man rushed in, panting heavily. "They're coming! They're coming! Boss, they've left the Lord's Manor!"
This was an employee Erkins had stationed on the island to keep watch and report any activity.
"Good!"
Erkins clapped his palm, shouting, "Everyone, come here! Come here to greet Lord Earl!"
The workshop's senior managers quickly emerged at his call, lining up in a neat row.
Soon, a cloud of dust rose in the distance as three carriages, escorted by a troop of Inner Guard riders, raced toward them.
In the blink of an eye, they reached the entrance. The door of the middle carriage opened, and Earl Grayman stepped out, followed by two men whose attire clearly marked them as outsiders—undoubtedly the important clients from Horns Bay.
Erkins' face immediately lit up with a wide smile. He hurried toward the carriage, his steps quick and humble. "Lord Earl, esteemed guests, welcome to Erkins' Ironworks." As soon as he finished speaking, the workshop foremen, standing in a neat row, bowed in unison, as if they had rehearsed this many times.
Paul raised his hand. "Erkins, spare us the formalities. Take us to see where you forge military weapons."
"Yes, yes, Lord Earl, please follow me."
The group followed Erkins into the workshop, touring the facility to the accompaniment of the incessant clang of hammers on metal.
"This is where we forge swords."
"And this is where we forge spearheads."
Gaius and Queller, having never worked as blacksmiths, found nothing particularly novel about the workshop's operations.
However, they were determined to strictly oversee the quality of the final products.
"Mr. Erkins, could you show us some finished products? We'd like to test them."
Erkins immediately replied, "Of course. Please follow me to the warehouse."
The group entered the warehouse, where rows of wooden crates lined the walls.
Gaius stepped forward and casually selected a longsword. After carefully examining it, he handed it to the family guard beside him and asked in the Horns Bay Language, "What do you think?"
The guard had a sharp gaze, a muscular build, and several scars on his face—clearly a hardened veteran.
He silently took the sword, flicking his finger against the blade before performing several thrusts and slashes.
"Not bad," the guard replied in the Horns Bay Language, then returned the sword to Gaius.
"Good," Gaius said with a satisfied expression, placing the longsword back in its crate.
After all, these were meant for common soldiers; this quality was more than sufficient.
Erkins turned to the Horns Bay Language translator he had hastily recruited from town overnight and whispered, "What are those two Horns Bayers muttering about?"
"Uh... the first one asked how the sword was, and the second one said it was 'not bad'," the translator replied honestly in a hushed voice.
What the hell? Erkins seethed inwardly. Did these Horns Bayers have any sense of quality? The workshop he ran produced top-tier goods, worthy of recognition throughout the entire Northwest Region.
But he only cursed silently, maintaining a beaming smile on his face.
Paul didn't seem to mind. Horns Bay was a thriving trade hub, where people had access to goods from all over the world, naturally raising their standards.
In contrast, Northwest Bay had only recently begun large-scale contact with the outside world. For centuries, it had been like a frog at the bottom of a well, with a touch of the arrogance of the Night-Lang people. And craftsmen, well, none of them liked admitting their skills were inferior.
The guard standing beside the Clan Chief's eldest son was likely an elite of the Foster Family, having handled countless fine swords and blades. To receive a mere "adequate" was already a great honor.
Erkins asked, "Sir Foster, what do you think? Do the weapons produced in Northwest Bay meet your requirements?"
Gaius nodded. "If they're all of this quality, yes."
Erkins immediately puffed out his chest and swore, "Most esteemed guest, rest assured that Erkins' Ironworks will never substitute inferior materials for superior ones. We have always strictly adhered to the teachings of Lord Grayman, maintaining rigorous quality control."
"Quality control?" Gaius asked with interest.
A novel term.
"It's the entire process, from raw material control, production and processing, product manufacturing, finished product inspection, to finished product warehousing and after-sales quality tracking and resolution. It encompasses a complete quality control and management process," Paul explained.
Gaius pondered. "If you can truly achieve such rigor, that would be excellent. The Horns Bay Alliance will not hesitate to invest generously."
"Rest assured," Paul and Erkins replied in unison.
Gaius then asked, "Do you manufacture armor here?"
"Yes, we do. Follow me, sir."
The workshop boss led the way, and they arrived at the armor-forging workshop.
A massive forging hammer on a machine rose and fell rhythmically, pounding metal into rough plate shapes. Craftsmen then refined these plates with hand hammers.
Queller asked curiously, "Fascinating! How does such a large hammer move?"
Gaius replied proudly, "I don't mind telling you—it's powered by water flow."
"Like a water wheel?"
"Ah... you could say that."
Gaius had patented the hydraulic forging hammer. Other workshops had to pay him a fee to use it, even Lord Earl's mechanical factory.
Paul watched Gaius' smug expression and silently scoffed. "Hmph, he beat me to it. Just wait until I get my rolling mill up and running..."
But he was heartened to see that the seeds of civilian invention and innovation had begun to take root, from the surveying team's rangefinders to the hydraulic forging hammer.
Gaius suddenly remembered something. "By the way, can you produce high-quality steel plate armor here?"
"Steel plate armor?" Erkins hesitated for a moment before replying, "We have the technology."
"What about production volume?"
"Well... as you know, steel is not easily obtained, so it's not our primary focus."
Gaius looked disappointed. "I see."
But it was to be expected. Even without any knowledge of military affairs, Gaius knew how precious a suit of plate armor was—it was something to be treasured as an heirloom.
Standing nearby, Paul's mind stirred. "Steel? Iron supplies are no longer a problem. It seems we've taken another step forward."
He silently made a plan.
The group spent the entire morning touring Gaius' workshop before finally concluding their visit. Paul invited the Foster Brothers to lunch at the Lord's Manor, then arranged for them to be sent back first while he remained behind.
"Erkins."
"Yes, Lord Earl."
In the workshop, the Boss stood respectfully beside Paul.
"From what I understand, your workshop seems to be taking orders from the shipyards as well."
"Haha, yes, Lord Earl."
Driven by the profits of maritime trade and the deliberate guidance of the Council of Administration, a "Great Construction" boom had swept through the coastal areas of Northwest Bay, leading to the establishment of numerous shipyards, both large and small.
At the time, shipbuilding primarily relied on wood, causing a surge in timber demand. However, the timber required to build a ship needed to be prepared years in advance, with some wood even requiring up to six years of drying after shaping.
Shipbuilding in Northwest Bay had previously been underdeveloped, so there was little timber stockpiled. The meager reserves were quickly depleted.
To cope with this situation, shipyards began spending heavily to import timber from other regions while also prioritizing their own timber stockpiling.
As timber prices soared, the logging and timber processing industries flourished, and a series of timber mills sprang up across the land.
But shipbuilding required more than just timber; it also demanded vast quantities of metal components, fattening the coffers of ironware manufacturers.
In addition to timber and ironware, canvas was also in high demand.
Not only the three territories under Paul's control—Alden, Byerldine, and Emden—but other territories gradually joined the supply chain.
Manufacturing was booming across the Northwest.
"Remember," Paul said, feeling it necessary to remind these fledgling capitalists, "your workshops must prioritize our local needs. Don't let the higher prices offered by the Horns Bay people tempt you to serve them first."
"Yes, yes, Lord Earl," Erkins replied hastily. "I will certainly abide by your instructions."
(End of the Chapter)
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