Terra Tinkers Construct is fine.

The anvil hasn't changed much. Or rather, even if you remove the enchanting function, it's still essentially a big block of iron, no matter how realistic it becomes.

As for the blast furnace...

Gaul is dead (great fog).

cough.

The blast furnace is an upgraded and specialized version of the furnace implemented in a low-version update of Minecraft. It specializes in the smelting performance of ores and metals, and can more efficiently smelt iron equipment and iron ore into iron material. In reality, it has become a tool that transforms Minecraft rules into a blessing-like performance.

It can be ignited with any fuel, including wood, and burns to a temperature high enough to make most metals glow red-hot; as for the fact that different metals have different melting points, wood shouldn't theoretically have such combustion efficiency at all...

Yes, that's how the code is written.

So what is the purpose of Milan making all these things?

"Dang! Dang! Dang!"

The hammer struck various materials, producing a series of crisp metallic clanging sounds that, along with sparks, filled the air.

Do you remember that question we mentioned before?

—Does this mean I have to be like a real blacksmith, using the Tinkers' Soul module to smelt various extraordinary metals, and then manually hammer the corresponding metals into equipment in a real-world way before I can make them available for ordinary people to use?

Yes, that's the problem.

Putting aside the rules of Minecraft itself, the absence of an Overworld means that the massive amount of materials available in Minecraft cannot be supplied, so there are no conditions for any research. But if we're talking about researching Tinkers' Construct, what kind of research can be done?

Milan's strategy is very clear.

He openly and unabashedly began forging iron in a corner of the outpost, the clanging sounds becoming a familiar accompaniment to recruit training during this period—Milan was a craftsman, a fact that had never been a secret within the organization.

The new recruits, knowing where their equipment came from, were mostly thinking, "I wonder what kind of amazing thing our boss is working on this time." Hrag was quite interested, but he was on duty and didn't understand the craftsman's work, so he didn't pay much attention.

Of course he couldn't understand it. Even a truly professional craftsman might not be able to understand this detail on the Milan forging table.

Ultimately, the essence of craftsmanship boils down to two aspects: "materials" and "processing techniques"—as is well known, Milan has always been quite helpless when it comes to materials.

Without the main world of Minecraft, all the magical metals in my Tinkers' Construct bucket can't be generated. I don't even have the materials to craft alloys. What can I do?

...Actually, Milan's available resources aren't necessarily insufficient for him to come up with something new.

[Blood + Steel + Clay → (1000 degrees) → Blood Binds Steel]

-Level 3 mining/ranged material, easy to obtain in the early game, with 5 points of top-tier attack power, a decent weapon-type handle attribute, and the purely damage-boosting offensive modifier "Torture".

They are the heroes of early weapon materials—look, Milan has already figured out the materials for the next stage of weapon iteration.

But I can't make it.

He now has coal, which he can smelt into molten coal to use as an auxiliary material and liquid fuel, which can indeed allow him to smelt steel; but if he wants to go further, the first problem that stands in Milan's way is that the temperature is not high enough.

Molten coal, as a liquid fuel, can only support temperatures up to 980 degrees Celsius; as for higher temperatures? Forget about it.

As for the aspect of [blood]...

He had long planned to use the large amount of blood left over from slaughtering animals and had never thrown it away. In this experiment, he poured it all into the smelting furnace. The good news is that the blood and other materials were indeed thrown into the furnace—real furnaces are not like those in games, and there is no situation where "no molten recipe will have any effect".

The fresh animal organs he threw in were instantly burned to ashes without any discernible difference—meaning the metal in the Tinker's Soul Furnace exists independently under the protection of the concept; otherwise, such a maddening and polluting operation would have at least caused several more material scientists to suffer a stroke after a professional craftsman.

The bad news was that when he poured his accumulated buckets of animal blood directly into the furnace, accompanied by violent steaming and water vapor drifting away from the top, the remaining fluid was indeed identified as blood, but in very small quantities.

But then, in a flash of inspiration, Milan discovered that the animal organs, which had been left out for several more days and had even begun to rot, were now identified as "rotten flesh" by him—and after being thrown into the furnace, they were burned into "blood" according to the recipe.

It's very confusing.

"Dang! Dang! Dang!"

Milan sighed as he looked at the oddly shaped piece of metal in his hand—it was hard to associate it with a "blade": non-metallic materials for Tinker's Soul equipment could be directly thrown into the crafting table, and metallic materials were processed by casting. He really had no background in forging.

If anyone else saw what it was made, they probably wouldn't believe it was made by Milan—you know who Milan is, right? This is Milan, the one who can mold a full suit of armor according to the user's body shape!

"...Tsk."

Milan scoffed at his own work, which was now free of cheat codes, and smacked his lips before tossing the oddly shaped piece of metal back into the furnace to melt it.

"Mr. Jung."

Sometimes, Hrag would come to Milan during training breaks to talk: these trainees might have various objective problems, such as being past their prime physical development years, and their comprehension and reaction speed not being outstanding; but their execution and endurance far exceeded the level expected of ordinary citizens.

What intrigued him even more was...

"I don't understand, how exactly did you manage to convince them?"

With a sigh, Hrag couldn't help but ask, "They rarely complain about such high-intensity training, and they can even be led by infected people and organized into a team... How did you get ordinary people to accept this?"

Milan thought for a moment and said honestly, "There's really no method worth mentioning. If I had to say, it would be a carrot and stick approach?"

His words were honest, and his actions were honest as well. With a simple flip of his hands, a carrot appeared in his left hand and a big stick appeared in his right hand—this was truly the first time Herag had seen Milan's own weapon. The big stick was none other than his long spear with the top of a Coca-Cola iron.

—Okay, it really is a carrot and stick... literally a carrot and stick.

Hrag was somewhat speechless for a moment—of course he understood Milan's intentions, which were simply to offer incentives while simultaneously exerting pressure; he had probably already experienced the incentives, just the supplies Milan had, even a small amount leaked out would be enough to feed such a small group of people until they were stuffed.

As for the pressure... he once again realized what Milan meant when he said, "I'm actually quite strong too." But could these people maintain such a high level of motivation just by applying pressure?

"The old man probably hasn't figured it out yet."

Milan said, "The time I can really use them is only a short month; within that month, no matter how much force I use to suppress them, as long as they can't turn the tables, they will eventually have to work for me in the face of harsh reality."

"As for what happens after the job is done, let them fend for themselves. I can't control it, and I'm too lazy to control it. Being able to be ashamed of the treatment I gave them is the greatest mercy I can show."

"Is this your plan?"

Herag looked puzzled: "With your team as the backbone, plus your supply channels, as long as there are no changes here—if what you say is true, the order of the entire city will collapse after the natural disaster, you are fully capable of taking over most of the area at this stage, becoming the underground emperor of Chernobog in one fell swoop, and even extending your control to the open political arena."

"Are you really so willing to just give up and discard all the work you've done over this period of time, and all this equipment that even I have to praise?"

Milan smiled and said, "Didn't the old man say that my being an enemy of Ursus and Ursus being an enemy of me are different concepts? What do you think will happen to Chernobog when the Empire is free to deal with it, when it is controlled by me, a non-Ursus (race) or even a non-Ursus (nation)?"

Hrag: I do understand the concept, but I don’t remember saying anything like that to you.

"Moreover, this matter is not as you think; the situation behind the scenes is quite complicated."

Milan shook her head and suddenly said, "I wonder if the old man is mentally prepared for this reunion with old friends."

"A reunion with an old friend?"

Hrag sensed something was amiss: "You mean, the old friend you mentioned before, the one who got to know me through this, will also be showing up here?"

"I wonder who will be coming?"

Milan simply shook his head, neither affirming nor denying, and said calmly, "Bozocaste."

"Does the general still remember this name?"

Chapter 69: Cognition and Power

In an instant, the contemplation in Hrag's eyes was replaced by another complex and profound emotion. He fell silent, as if even the air itself had frozen because of this sudden name.

It's hard for him to say he's unfamiliar with this name.

Back when he was young and full of passion, eager to expand the empire's territory, Bozokasti was already a renowned captain in the Ursus army.

He remembered the man's mountain-like figure, his powerful pre-battle speech, his deep and penetrating voice; he also remembered how, in a fierce battle, it was Wendigo who, with a charge that almost tore through the enemy lines, pulled him and another old friend from a certain death encirclement.

That captain, the hero of Ursus, was also a legend whose bloodline cemented his status as captain... How could he not remember him?

His name never faded in the Battle of Bloodpeak, the Battle of the Four Emperors, and in many other wars, as if he would never fail, even surviving the Great Rebellion—but after that, he heard that Borocasti had left, taking his followers and rebelling against the Empire.

He, who hadn't left the army yet, couldn't help but laugh: How could that be? That's Bozokasti!

But later the news was confirmed... He only remembered that he had used his connections to find out if there was any misunderstanding or hardship involved, and even thought about whether he could do something about it; but all the news eventually disappeared without a trace.

Looking back now, it seems that even the last time he seriously paid attention to this name was almost twenty years ago—and by the time he adopted Nain along with Jiangzhan, became an infected, and left the army by chance, all his concerns were finally covered by the long years.

He occasionally gleaned some information about the Ursus infected, such as the infected resistance organization on the snowfield, the Shield Guard, known as the "Shield of the Infected"—but so what?

He was no longer the Guards General who still had influence in the army, but the director of a small clinic for infected people in Chernobog.

Even the clinic's director knew nothing about medicine; he was just a martial artist who could wield a large sword a few times.

"Bodracasti..."

Confusion and regret were emotions that were indeed somewhat unfamiliar to an old general like him—Hrag, who was already used to accepting reality, took a deep breath, suppressed his momentary daze, and brought his thoughts back to the track he was used to.

Having grasped the meaning behind Milan mentioning that name, his gaze involuntarily sharpened—because it was precisely because he could understand that he instinctively made another terrifying association.

"Mr. Jung, you wouldn't be suggesting that the man-made part of the disaster you mentioned earlier is related to Bozocasti?"

The meaning of this information was so outrageous that he hesitated to say directly, "Could it be that the Patriots have led an attack?"

Instead of answering directly, Milan posed another question: "Let me put it another way... General, have you heard of the Reunion Movement?"

Herag frowned.

He glanced at Milan's expression again. The young man also frowned slightly, but his gaze was upright and his demeanor was dignified. He recalled the transactions and observations he had made with Milan during this period, and the scales of trust in his heart tipped, so he chose to be honest.

"I've heard more than just rumors."

Herag said in a deep voice, "As an infected organization active in Ursus, this name was already quite famous last year. The most surprising thing about them is that they have been able to continue to build their reputation.

“Until the beginning of this year, the name started appearing among the patients the clinic was seeing in the city, which was probably a sign that their influence was beginning to reach Chernobog.”

"And after you warned me to be careful recently..."

He paused, then continued, "When someone approached Azazel, they used the banner of the Reunion Movement to try and recruit me."

Milan remained silent.

Herag chuckled.

“But I am old, young man. My only thought now is to guard Azazel and protect the children I can still protect.”

"As for the rest, I have no interest in them and I can't care about them."

—Should I say it was expected?

In Terra, which has now become a reality, the game's plot and information cannot be entirely trusted, but they are not entirely unreliable either; combined with intelligence gained from a higher dimension, Milan was not surprised by this answer.

So he calmly said, "The Reunion Movement, a violent organization that claims to resist and speak out by force and to seize the rights of the infected in the most straightforward way; today, it is no longer important what it looked like when it was first established. What is important is that it has now absorbed a large number of uninfected people in Ursus."

"Including, but not limited to, the guerrilla force known as the Infected Shield, led by Bozokastie."

"what!"

Even Hrag's first reaction to this news was skepticism: "That's Bodrakasti! He might be disappointed with Imperial policies, but I don't believe he would dedicate himself to something like this..."

—That "Patriot" from Ursus, how could he possibly…

“I’m not here to argue with you, General. Believe it or not.”

Milan interrupted him, but her tone lacked any emphasis on persuasion, only the calmness of a news broadcast: "According to the intelligence I know, the Reunion Movement's target is Chernobog; they plan to seize the city as a base for the Infected's operations."

“They had been infiltrating and sending people around for who knows how long before; I even bumped into their people in the city myself.”

"And now..."

He chuckled and said, "December 1st, it's almost time. If nothing unexpected happens, their big operation should have already begun."

Helag remained silent.

He didn't question Milan about why she hadn't told him sooner—even if she had, Herag might not have believed her until he had more compelling evidence, and he certainly wouldn't have abandoned the clinic and fled the city in a panic just because of that.

If he hadn't witnessed and worked with Milan firsthand these past few days, he might not even believe what Milan is saying now.

But now that Milan had revealed the intelligence to this extent, his recent vague sense of unease in the city seemed to be explained: even with Azazel's activities reduced, he still possessed far better information than the common people, not to mention his years of experience and keen insight—

Chernobog has indeed been acting strangely lately: since Milan alerted him, he has been gathering intelligence, and all indications suggest that the connection between the Chernobog city district and the surrounding garrisons has become increasingly delicate; in addition to the nobles' increasingly straightforward actions, the prices of many goods in the market have also experienced slight but persistent fluctuations, as well as the content of intercity network programs…

These fragments, taken individually, seem like mere coincidences that collided together, given the notoriously inefficient bureaucracy of Ursus; but Milan's words were like a jigsaw puzzle example, allowing him to immediately connect the pieces and piece together a disturbing picture.

Sometimes, information that seems too outrageous can actually make others feel more credible—if it were just a joke, no one would have believed it in the first place, but if it's true... even if it's just a possibility, it doesn't seem impossible.

"So, what are you going to do?"

Even though he didn't believe it all, nor dared to completely disbelieve it, Hrag suppressed his shock and chaotic thoughts in one breath; he looked at Milan and asked the most practical question.

Milan stroked his chin and thought for a moment before asking, "Never mind my thoughts, old man, I have a question for you."

"You've trained them for so many days, and judging from your perspective..."

He raised his chin, gesturing towards the armored members still training, and asked, "How much combat power do you think my group of ragtag soldiers have right now?"

"In terms of training results alone, they exceeded my expectations."

Hrag's assessment was very straightforward.

"To be honest, perhaps it's because of the excellent food you provided? Their recovery and improvement in physical strength were so remarkable that I've never seen anything like it in my life."