British hegemon

Chapter 128 Gunpowder Laboratory

The time has come to March 1, 1306, and the cold winter is about to end.

After a few days of hibernation during the winter, the farmers are about to get busy again. They are in their strip-shaped plots, and once the plots are finished, they will harrow them and sow spring wheat, oats, barley, or peas and broad beans.

Of course, during this period they had to follow the manor steward's instructions and cultivate the land and sow seeds in the lord's private camp in the form of "Bounty workers".

Roger was not good at farming and was unwilling to spend much energy on the farm for the time being. During this period, the old butler focused on managing the farm's land, and Roger also brought the capable farm manager into the "financial support" of the farm, making him the steward who assisted the old butler in managing the farm's affairs.

Freed from the constraints of land ownership, Roger was able to focus his energy on military and industrial development.

At the southern tip of Holly Island, on a flat mudflat, a wooden courtyard with stone walls has just been completed. This is a "laboratory" built specifically for alchemists. Inside the stone walls are two wooden houses of different sizes. One is for the alchemist and the fat widow's eldest son to live in, and the other is used for various "magical" experiments.

Tom, the foreman with his trousers rolled up, led a bricklayer carrying a hoe over from the foot of the hill behind the courtyard. "Sir," he said, "the little spring at the foot of the hill has been surrounded by stones. The water flow is a bit smaller, but it's enough for Mr. Nicholas and his apprentice to drink."

The black goat, carrying a sheepskin wine flask, approached the group with great interest, took a swig of ale, and said, "Brother Tom, I can actually survive without water, as long as Lord Roger guarantees to send me a barrel of ale every week."

"Old man, this ale is pretty strong, you'd better be careful. I don't want to pull a drunkard's corpse out of the sea," Roger joked, then said seriously, "Speaking of this ale, you need to get Tom and the others to finish building the distillation equipment as soon as possible. I've already made arrangements with Gary in the north of the island; as soon as your still is finished, he'll start trying to brew strong ale. Whether your husband's family can drink the strongest ale in the future depends on you."

Black Goat is interested in anything related to alcohol, and readily agreed to lead the craftsmen to make a still within half a month.

A still was a novelty, but Roger had actually seen something similar in the alchemist's treasure chest. The old sorcerer had a distillation apparatus made of variegated glass, which he used to extract gold from all sorts of colorful raw materials.

This was a treasure, and Roger immediately discussed with the old sorcerer the technique of using this device for distilling malt spirits.

The old sorcerer didn't understand brewing, but he knew that Roger was describing the process of extracting the essence of alcohol from malt, a process that was similar to his alchemy expertise.

So after a moment's thought, the old sorcerer accepted the job that offered a reward.

Roger and Black Goat were still discussing how the still liquefied the gas through the copper tubes, while the foreman Tom looked troubled.

Since arriving on Arun Island and becoming the head of the artisans at Milk House Manor, he and his artisans have never had a day of rest.

From building the simple artisan workshops at Milk House Estate to expanding the two saltworks on Holly Island, to developing water-powered blowers and repairing Campbell's textile mill.

The recent heavy snow and ice have allowed even the serfs on the manor to rest for a few days, but he and his craftsmen have been working hard to make farm tools needed for spring planting. Even when they have a little free time, they have to take the blacksmith to try to improve the iron smelting process and make simple swords and spears.

The stone house and courtyard in front of us were built by him and a group of craftsmen over two weeks, using torches as their guide.

Roger paid him twice the salary, but made him do the work of four people, so Tom was so tired that he would fall asleep as soon as he got home every day.

However, Roger did not treat them unfairly. Every time they completed a difficult task, they would receive a generous reward. Thinking of the child who was about to be born, Tom could only grit his teeth and persevere.

"Tom, you can take the men back to the manor now. Don't forget to keep an eye on the blacksmiths and make sure they work hard to forge swords and spears. I want to see twenty sets of swords, shields, and spears by May."

Roger gestured for Tom and his group to leave the island, while he led the alchemist into the stone-walled courtyard.

The courtyard is indeed small; otherwise, the craftsmen wouldn't have been able to complete the work in just two weeks. Upon entering the courtyard, the first thing that catches the eye is the laboratory, piled high with bottles, jars, and various raw materials.

This was a veritable laboratory, complete with all the utensils purchased from Dublin last time. The fat widow's eldest son was carefully arranging the utensils on rows of wooden shelves. Upon seeing Roger enter, he immediately knelt down, but Roger raised his hand to tell him to get up.

The black goat invited Roger into the house, intending to explain the function of each of the utensils to him.

Roger raised his hand to interrupt, "Old buddy, take a look at the Black Magic Powder you've developed."

Black Goat quickly agreed and led Roger to an iron box at the innermost part of the cabin.

Black Goat took out the key and opened the iron box, which contained several earthenware jars and wooden boxes. He took one out, carefully opened it, and scooped out a little black powder with a wooden spoon.

He turned quietly and walked to the wooden table in the middle of the house, pouring the powder into a small, flat-bottomed iron pot.

"Little fellow, quickly close the door," the black goat shouted to his apprentice.

The apprentice obediently put down his tools and closed the door.

The black goat looked around, nodded mysteriously at Roger, and took out a flint and steel from his pocket to light a candle.

"Lord Roger, I suggest you take a step back. This thing is too terrifying," the Black Goat kindly advised.

Roger smiled and gestured for Black Goat to continue.

The black goat lit a long, thin stick over the candle flame, then slowly brought it closer to the pile of black powder. As the stick, still flaming, drew nearer, the black goat's hand trembled slightly, until the flame went out and turned into sparks.

The spark touched the powder but did not react immediately. After about half a second, with a whoosh, the black powder immediately burst into flames, accompanied by a flash of light and a large cloud of dark blue smoke.

"God!" Almost at the same time as the explosion, a scream came from behind the two.

Looking back, the fat widow's eldest son was so frightened that he collapsed to the ground, his eyes bulging like cowbells.

Ignoring the apprentice's dejected state, the black goat pointed to the remnants in the frying pan amidst the smoke and said, "How about it, Lord Roger? This stuff is terrifying enough, isn't it?"

Looking at the thick black smoke filling the room and the large amount of residue in the pot, Roger was somewhat disappointed, but Rome wasn't built in a day. He forced a satisfied smile. "Terrifying, indeed terrifying. But I've seen even more terrifying black powder, burning faster, producing whiter smoke, and leaving even less residue."

"Hmm~ That's already very impressive. You've mastered black magic. Next, continue to fine-tune the ratio of the three ingredients, and we'll try again next month."

"Is there anything more amazing than this?" Black Goat was skeptical, but Roger had already given him too many unexpected surprises, so he chose to believe Roger.

Roger didn't know much either. After chatting for a while longer, he turned around and prepared to leave.

Upon reaching the door, Roger saw the fat widow's eldest son still lying on the ground, seemingly lost in thought. He squatted down and slapped the boy to wake him up.

"Master?" The boy came to his senses.

"Little one, remember this: once you leave this courtyard, you must forget everything you heard and saw, and you must not tell anyone."

"If I find out you're spreading rumors outside, I'll cut your tongue out."

The boy nodded blankly, then immediately shook his head.

Roger's stern expression gradually softened. He reached out and pulled the boy up, patting him on the shoulder. "Work hard with Mr. Nicholas. If you do well, the master will reward you."

"Yes...yes..."

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