Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 471: Chapter 302: Research Institute_2

Lance utilized the river flowing through the town to forge a hydraulic forging hammer, reducing the workload for crafting rough parts. He also streamlined the process by adopting a division of labor, where each worker specialized in different steps rather than each being responsible for crafting a complete musket.

At the same time, he introduced standards for workpieces. Bonuses were offered on top of basic wages for quality work, rewarding hard work and productivity. Inferior workpieces were rejected. At regular intervals, the material wastage ratio was calculated and posted on the leaderboard, with monetary rewards for the top three performers.

Money paved the way. Despite the especially hot and dry conditions from the forge’s high temperatures, the craftsmen’s enthusiasm remained undampened. Everyone was busily engaged in their work.

Lance continued further in. In the back was the shooting range where Eugene and the researchers were testing this new type of musket.

Lance’s gaze rested on the firearms held by the testers.

There weren’t many significant improvements, but one visually striking feature was the long bayonet now attached to the muzzle.

However, the focus was not on this. He observed how the individuals used the muskets.

According to the mainstream use at the time, the process involved taking out a cartridge, pouring some primer into the pan, followed by loading the right amount of propellant into the muzzle, then packing the bullet, and finally, pulling back the hammer to aim and fire.

This procedure meant that the musket could fire at most two or three shots per minute, and that was just based on test data. On a real battlefield, as Barton said, sometimes they couldn’t even manage one shot a minute.

Moreover, after firing a shot, the musket became nothing more than a burning stick before it could be reloaded. Soldiers on a fierce battlefield, seeing their comrades fall one by one, would easily panic. They might even misload due to trembling hands, potentially pouring in too much gunpowder and causing a burst barrel.

But what was interesting was that the testers were no longer using cartridges to reload; instead, they took out a paper package.

The tester bit open the paper package, poured some of the gunpowder into the pan as the primer, then directly stuffed the remaining wrapped powder into the gun barrel, rammed it down, pulled back the hammer, aimed, and fired.

BANG!

The distant target shook, showing that these testers were experienced Gunners.

Lance was not very knowledgeable about weaponry like cannons, but he had read some novels. From them, he knew of several famous improvements to the Flintlock Gun, such as the bayonet and paper cartridges.

When he was in Totnes, he had brought this up with Master Eugene, and they started research immediately upon his arrival, which was not particularly difficult.

Both of these modifications had passed tests a while back and could be equipped by troops once retrofitted. They could then abandon pikemen and convert all infantry into Musketeers. The bayonets would allow them to retain some close-combat capabilities.

A soldier trained for half a month could kill a Knight who had trained for over a decade with just one shot—this was progress.

Of course, those were ordinary soldiers; truly elite forces must retain powerful close-combat abilities and even more formidable firepower.

”My Lord!”

”How’s the situation?” Lance didn’t bother with pleasantries and cut straight to the point.

”Everything that needs to pass the test this time is ready,” Eugene indicated with his hand, and one of the testers wheeled out a wooden box which, once opened, revealed neatly stacked metal spheres the size of fists, each with a fuse attached and sealed with wax for protection.

Without a doubt, this was—a bomb.

This was precisely the reason for his visit; the army lacked heavy firepower and appeared helpless when facing non-human monsters.

The batch of bombs Barton brought previously had been used up, so Lance needed to quickly come up with a replacement to strengthen the army’s firepower.

Incendiary bombs, regular bombs, muskets—these were all items that could be produced and could increase combat capacity in a short time.

”Please try it, my Lord. It essentially meets your requirements, with an explosive kill radius of three meters and shrapnel damage reaching up to ten meters, inflicting significant casualties on dense, unarmored formations.”

Lance picked up a bomb to feel its weight, finding it quite heavy due to the thick cast iron shell, a result of manufacturing limitations.

”What’s the throwing distance?”

”I’ve had it tested. Thirty-four meters is the best performance, and the worst is twenty, averaging around twenty-four. The weight is still too great. We need to optimize the process to reduce it. It’s also best to have cover when throwing,” Eugene, ever the practical craftsman, replied.

Lance didn’t waste words and immediately lit the fuse of the bomb he held. The wax melted and seeped into the fuse. Observing its steady burn, he knew the quality was reliable.

He certainly did not want his soldiers to receive unreliable weapons, especially bombs. Once a self-detonation occurred, it could easily cause morale to collapse.

Eugene and the others consciously held their breath as they watched the bomb right in front of them, their full attention fixed on the fuse that was burning down at a slow but steady pace.

All their previous tests had involved lighting the fuse and throwing the bomb immediately. So what did their Lord want to do now?

Some testers couldn’t help but step back, knowing full well from their daily tests that the power of an explosion could kill everyone present.

Fortunately, Lance observed for only a moment before casually tossing it. Yet, the bomb flew out like a Bomb, its exaggerated speed dumbfounding everyone.

Only then did a distant explosion awaken them from their shock.

The ground was marked, so the testers could estimate the explosion distance at a glance. Yet, at this moment, they seemed somewhat reluctant to confirm.

”The 100-meter marker is still further out; it’s already beyond our testing ground.”

”How much?”

”At least 120 to 130.”

”I want precise data,” Eugene said somewhat irritably. He had seen it himself; he needed exact figures.

The testers immediately ran to measure, but Lance just smiled.

”My data has no reference value. It’s better to think of a way to refine the process and reduce the weight.”

Although Lance said this, the data he had just created would definitely spread through these people, and he would not miss any opportunity to proclaim his own strength.

Soon, the bomb project was put on hold amid various tests. To be honest, Lance was still not quite satisfied; he had used bombs made in Totnes, which were more powerful.

In fact, these craftsmen could make them too. After all, they all came from the same production line. However, those devices were meant to be fired from cannons, and Lance currently needed a throwable type.

This still required ongoing research and gradual improvement. Lance knew that technology accumulated experience and improved through constant trial and error—it couldn’t happen overnight.

”Continue testing.”

Lance’s visit was not just for the bomb project but for several different projects.

Following his command, the product for the next project was also brought out.

”This is the smoke grenade developed according to the Lord’s requirements. Once lit, it can generate a large amount of smoke in a short period. This smoke in itself has a certain irritating quality that can cause eye pain, nausea, and a burning sensation in the respiratory tract...”

The detailed experiences Eugene described could obviously not have come from the testers but were instead gained from using some ”patients” from a sanatorium.

Lance picked up a fist-sized metal can with one side open, revealing cloth inside. With no concept of chemical reactions at this time, smoke production depended entirely on the material used. These tar-soaked linens would emit thick smoke when burning incompletely.

And the smoke grenade before them was clearly the result of this research, simple yet marked by a sense of helplessness.

The need for smoke grenades arose primarily from Lance’s previous experience leading troops to a town to exterminate Heretics. There, he had recognized the problems the army faced in confined spaces.

Buildings restricted them, and ambushes were too easy—smoking the enemy out of their holes seemed like the right approach.

After observing the tests, Lance could only conclude the results were poor. Some didn’t even ignite. Those that did either failed to produce smoke or did so incompletely and inconsistently. Also, the speed at which they produced smoke was too slow, and the amount too little.

”This project needs continued improvement. How’s the research on signal flares?”

Just as Lance was preparing to complete the remaining tests, a soldier suddenly rushed over to report to him.

”Report! Fishermen have spotted Pirate traces in the coastal waters.”