Ch.155The Great Game

Tap! Tap! Tap!

The Steelyard of Amurtat.

There, tens of thousands of craftsmen were sweating profusely, stretching and hammering hot ingots wrapped around steel rods.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

To create gun barrels, those who worked with steel in the birthplace of steel were crafting barrels like living machines.

Hissss!

Eventually, the heated barrel was cooled, and those without cracks or bulges were moved to the lathe to carve rifling.

Swoosh!

To prevent accidents from overheating, thin hoses continuously sprayed water over the lathe, while rifling machines moved in and out of the barrels, spilling metal shavings onto the floor.

Once the rifling was properly verified, the dried barrel moved to the assembly line, where the thick section was combined with a mechanical chamber containing pyrite, and then a wooden stock was attached.

Finally, when bronze rings were placed to secure the stock and barrel, a rifle was completed—one that would allow infantry to face their enemies.

In this manner, thousands of rifles were completed each day, and through similar but different processes, three types of cannons were also mass-produced at the Steelyard.

Of course, this achievement wasn’t Amurtat’s alone.

When the opposition between Amurtat and Fahrenheit was established, the minor nations that quickly sided with Amurtat pooled their resources, providing necessary materials and even their own blacksmiths.

The result was this miraculous production volume, and the Steelyard craftsmen were actively teaching their know-how to foreign artisans.

They had received hints from higher-ups, but they also knew that passing on their techniques to foreign blacksmiths was the only way to ensure their hard-earned skills wouldn’t vanish into nothing.

“…So, when making the barrel, you shouldn’t hammer it in a spiral pattern. That’ll cause it to break apart when carving the rifling due to the rotation.”

“Then how should we do it, sir?”

“You need to hammer it like rolling up a carpet. Understand? And as for processing the pyrite…”

For foreign blacksmiths, Amurtat’s Steelyard was literally like another world.

Countless chimneys rising beneath sky-piercing mountains…

The pig iron flowing from beneath those chimneys, and steel ingots created through endless patience.

They were intimidated by the sight of tens of thousands of craftsmen using tongs to grab those ingots and hammering them into weapons of war—it was literally a different level of civilization.

Therefore, the foreign blacksmiths learning from the master craftsmen had an atmosphere like priests transcribing divine words, and they pursued their learning with such passion that they might make deals with devils if someone tried to take away their precious notebooks.

Just like when Amurtat first opened the Steelyard.

*

Year 76 of Amurtat.

With Amurtat’s population now exceeding 8 million, Fahrenheit and Amurtat began their Great Game in the northern territories.

First, they started bestowing unprecedented benefits to countries that sided with them.

“Are… are you really giving this to us?”

“Of course. Fahrenheit will never forget your kindness.”

Fahrenheit began by distributing magical artifacts and precious treasures accumulated over 300 years to various rulers to strengthen friendships. This was a form of support that Amurtat could never match, as they neither produced such items nor stockpiled them, seeing little need for them.

However, Amurtat couldn’t just stand by watching. They racked their brains and began providing their own form of support that Fahrenheit could never replicate.

Click-clack!

“This, my friend, is what we call a ‘gun.’ Now, let me show you how to use it.”

“Is… is this real?”

“Indeed, this is the Amurtat way of showing gratitude.”

What Amurtat could provide was the distribution of power.

If one understood that economic collapse stemmed from arms races, and those arms races began with Amurtat’s introduction of modern weapons, then one could understand how desperately the northern countries coveted the power of the gunpowder weapons that Amurtat’s armies wielded.

And with war approaching, there was no better business than granting the power they so desperately desired.

Even if the methods of making guns, cannons, and gunpowder spread, Amurtat wasn’t particularly concerned.

Once the first button was fastened, it was only a matter of time before all buttons would be fastened, regardless of preference.

After all, the Soviet Army didn’t defeat the German Army because the Germans lacked guns.

What mattered was a solid economy capable of supporting massive military expenditures, a robust system and structure to support that economy and military, and the presence of a determined ruler.

And many of these requirements, the northern countries failed to meet.

Thus, in the north, demonstrations of force began—magic burning fields and cannons erasing forests.

On battlefields where magical power and gunpowder collided, would the remnants of magic prevail? Or would it be the smoke of gunpowder?

*

Boom! Boom!

Crash! Crack!

“This country is finished! We must flee!”

Slash—

Thud…

“Anyone who dares break military discipline will be beheaded! Fight to the end! This is our homeland, our birthplace!”

As shells rained down, a general on the cracking walls beheaded a soldier attempting to flee while shouting.

“Utavia will never surrender! We will defeat these vile invaders and surely restore the peace of the past…”

Splat!

And the general giving his morale-boosting speech suddenly collapsed.

The reason was simple.

His head had been replaced by a cannonball.

A six-pounder shell sat atop his shoulders, with blood gushing from his torn throat.

Gurgle! Gurgle!

“….AAAAARGH!!!!”

“The general has fallen!”

“We have no hope! Everyone flee!!!”

The “dramatic” scene of a general with his head replaced by a cannonball flailing before finally collapsing signified many things.

From the fact that bows and arrows could not withstand guns and bullets, to the reality that today was Utavia’s last day.

“Hahaha!!! What tremendous power! Blessings upon Lord Tiberius of Amurtat! Forward, soldiers! Today, Utavia’s treasures and maidens shall be yours!”

“Long live Arabentum! Long live Lord Karluk!!!”

Chanting the names of their country and ruler, Arabentum’s soldiers marched through Octavia’s destroyed gates.

They were no longer organized troops but disorderly looters and plunderers, beginning to raid shops and markets, and rape mothers and daughters.

This was the right of victors passed down since ancient times, and the damage that losers who chose resistance over surrender had to endure.

Thus, for an entire month, unspeakable atrocities occurred, and with the assassination of Utavia’s ruler, the small nation of 130,000 souls perished.

And the time it took for a home of 130,000 living souls to perish was merely 7 hours.

“Hahaha! It was indeed wise to side with Amurtat! Select the finest of these treasures and send them to Amurtat! The one who brought us this victory deserves it!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Even amidst the chaos, subordinates looking after their master presented treasures soaked in blood and gunpowder to Tiberius of Amurtat.

And Tiberius…

“Hahaha, these admirable fellows. They’ve already destroyed another country? Hahahahaha!”

He found their actions quite commendable.

It was only natural.

Whether Tiberius was born on Earth or in this world, by now he had spent at least twice as long in this world as he had on Earth.

Naturally, as his mind adapted to this world, his standards of morality and ethics had “adjusted” to match this world.

Besides, why should he care about fallen nations?

They merely paid the price of arrogance for neither swiftly declaring neutrality nor taking a side.

Moreover, those who presented treasures had skillfully used gunpowder weapons to accomplish the feat of annihilating an entire nation in just 7 hours of battle—no one would suggest punishment when praise was due.

Now there is no neutrality in the north.

Only countries with the power to protect themselves, and those without.