With this steam engine, many subsequent plans were like shackles being removed, allowing them to be systematically pushed forward and implemented one by one.
In Link's mind, one plan was particularly crucial: to create a weapon capable of ending the era of cold weapon warfare—the gun.
Link had long planned for this; he had already instructed Hanna to design firearms, intending to begin manufacturing a flintlock when the time was right.
The flintlock, a weapon tested by the long river of history, had a manufacturing difficulty similar to that of the matchlock.
Its structural features were distinct: it was loaded with primer powder at the back and a lead ball at the front, achieving a firing rate of nearly three rounds per minute.
In this era where cold weapons still dominated, using it against enemies wielding cold weapons like swords, spears, and the like, was akin to a dimensionality reduction strike.
However, the flintlock was not without its flaws, and its manufacturing time was a major drawback.
Initially, like the matchlock, flintlocks were meticulously hammered out by artisans, one strike at a time.
From the barrel to the trigger, every component embodied the artisans' dedication and skill. The entire gun took approximately three months to produce.
Among these, barrel manufacturing was paramount, with processes like drilling and rifling, each requiring extremely high skill.
Although no precision instruments were needed during the manufacturing process, the artisan had to be an experienced veteran to produce a qualified barrel.
If the artisan's craftsmanship was not up to par, even a slight error could result in a defective barrel, affecting the firearm's performance, and potentially even leading to danger during use.
This was precisely why Link wanted to build a steam engine first.
With the steam engine, he could use steel drills to directly bore gun barrels from solid iron rods.
This would significantly increase production speed.
Moreover, this manufacturing method greatly reduced the skill requirements for artisans; it no longer required skilled artisans to operate, only a workbench capable of securing the iron rod.
This undoubtedly provided the possibility for large-scale firearm production and gave Link hope of changing the war landscape of this era... In the following days, Link and Hanna spent all their time in the workshop, fully dedicating themselves to experiments on gunpowder manufacturing methods.
There was a popular rhyme: "One sulfur, two nitrates, three charcoal, add some sugar for a big Ivan."
However, when it came to actual practice, various difficulties surged in like a tide.
The amount of each material was crucial. Too much or too little would significantly reduce the effectiveness of the finished product, completely failing to meet the standard for firing projectiles.
After several continuous days, the gunpowder experiments still failed to succeed.
Each experimental failure was like a heavy hammer, striking Hanna and Link's hearts fiercely.
"Damn it, what's going on, is something still wrong?"
Hanna finally couldn't help but roar in frustration.
"Don't be impatient; the development of gunpowder has undergone hundreds of years of evolution in history. How long have we been at it now? At most, only four days."
Link, acting as an assistant, suppressed his inner anxiety and comforted her softly.
At this time, the two ran out of the workshop in a disheveled state. The room was filled with a pungent, irritating smell everywhere, and a strange burnt smell permeated it, making one feel nauseous.
Clearly, this experiment had failed again.
When the two ran out of the workshop, their faces were stained black by the failed black powder, like two African Americans who had climbed out of a coal mine, even blacker than black.
Hanna sat dejectedly on the stone bench in front of the house, her hands hanging limply at her sides, her eyes full of loss and confusion.
Link sat next to her and comforted her softly.
In fact, Link's condition wasn't much better; continuous failures for several days also made him somewhat disheartened. He couldn't sleep at night these past few days and thought about this matter all day long.
But at such a time, he knew that he couldn't show any negative emotions, much less make sarcastic remarks.
Hanna had worked very hard, and some things couldn't be rushed; they could only be taken one step at a time.
Hanna frowned, completely disregarding her dirty hands, and vigorously pulled at her hair, muttering, "Where did it go wrong? Is my procedure incorrect, or is the ratio wrong?"
Her voice trembled slightly, as if she were a traveler lost in the darkness, eagerly searching for a glimmer of light.
"Alright, think slowly, don't be impatient."
Link said gently, then brought a wet towel and gently wiped the dirt from her hands.
"You sit here and rest for a bit. Once the black smoke and smell in the room have dissipated, we'll try again later."
"Mm."
Hanna responded softly, her voice tinged with fatigue.
But as Link gently wiped her arm, her anxious heart gradually calmed down.
Then, she took a deep breath, composed herself, took out a charcoal pencil, and began to draw and write directly on the ground.
Her gaze was focused and determined, as if she wanted to express all the doubts in her heart through these simple lines and numbers.
Link didn't disturb her further; instead, he called a few City Guards and together they walked into the workshop, which was still emitting black smoke, and began to clean up the "mess" inside.
The workshop was in disarray, with various experimental equipment scattered everywhere and black smoke permeating the air.
But Link and the City Guards had no complaints; they skillfully cleaned up the mess, as if they were already accustomed to such a scene.
Hanna looked at the data she had drawn on the ground and murmured to herself, "Where did I go wrong? What exactly is incorrect?"
Her brows were furrowed as she murmured, then she grabbed a few handfuls from several bags of raw materials piled in the courtyard and examined them closely.
"The materials should also be fine, right? Although they're not exactly the same as those on Earth, they should still be fine..." Hanna muttered softly, her heart filled with doubt.
Her gaze finally settled on the last saltpeter, and a strange intuition arose in her heart: "Could there be a problem with this saltpeter?"
She stared intently at the saltpeter in her hand, as if trying to find the answer from this small stone.
"Hanna, the room has been cleaned."
Link emerged from inside, covered in dust. He was now very skilled at doing this.
The previous failures had all been cleaned up by him, so he couldn't help but be skilled at it.
His face was covered in dust, and his hair was soaked with sweat, plastered to his forehead, making him look somewhat disheveled.
"Good! We'll experiment again. This time, we'll start from scratch with the saltpeter and refine high-purity saltpeter ourselves."
Hanna stood up, her fighting spirit rekindled in her eyes. She picked up the necessary materials and strode into the room, continuing her experiment.
Link followed her back into the workshop.
The workshop still had a pungent smell, but both seemed to have grown accustomed to the environment and quickly immersed themselves in the experiment.
Whoosh!
With a slight sound, the experiment began again.
However, it wasn't long before black smoke once again billowed from the workshop.
"Failed again. Let's try again." Hanna gritted her teeth, a hint of unwillingness flashing in her eyes.
"Alright!" Link responded firmly, his eyes full of trust and support.
Inside this small room, black smoke continuously billowed out.
Each failure was like a heavy blow, but the two never gave up, constantly summarizing experience and lessons from their failures.
It's unknown how much time passed, but the sun had already begun to set in the west, having been high overhead. The red sunset cast its glow on the workshop roof, bringing a touch of warmth to this otherwise oppressive place.
At this moment, a cheer finally erupted from inside the workshop.
"It's a success! This is it!"
Hanna jumped up excitedly, her face beaming with joy, her eyes glistening with tears of excitement.
Link also showed a relieved smile. He walked forward, tightly grasping Hanna's hand, and said, "We succeeded!"
At this moment, all the fatigue, all the anxiety, all the failures, vanished into thin air.
These small amounts of gunpowder, now brought into existence, seemed insignificant, but both knew that this gunpowder would be enough to change the landscape of warfare in this era.