Chapter 396 Storm (End)

After the spectacular fire tornado and the burning Elin Cathedral perished together, the fire on the south bank no longer had the power to launch an offensive.

The fire scene in the old city was divided and surrounded one by one, and finally ran out of fuel and died unwillingly.

By the afternoon of the next day, the fire in the city had been basically extinguished, but the remaining fire that spread to the mountains was still spreading three days later.

The Provisional Military Control Commission issued a notice changing the primary task to controlling wildfires.

The conscripted militiamen had just reestablished their chain of command according to previous winter training arrangements, and immediately, led by officers at all levels, marched into the mountains and forests south of the city to once again fight against the fire.

There are only a small number of military police and militia in the city to maintain order.

The garrisons in neighboring states have been notified one after another, and reinforcements are arriving towards the Steel Fort day and night. However, no news has been sent back from the messenger to the Horn Castle yet.

Compared with firefighting, post-disaster management is more troublesome.

On the night of the fire, many workshops along the coast were looted, and a large number of ordnance stored in the workshops was lost.

Then the fire quickly got out of control, and escape became a top priority, so a considerable part of the ordnance was abandoned directly at the fire scene on the south bank.

Some of the ordnance was carried by the refugees and was seized by military checkpoints when they left the city.

There is also a part of ordnance that has flowed into the north bank, which was less affected by the disaster. Its whereabouts are unknown and needs to be confiscated urgently.

As for the workshops that were not looted but suffered fires or were demolished, they were temporarily sealed by the army.

Due to the tradition of bringing their own weapons for war, the laws of the Monta Republic allow civilians to possess weapons and armor.

Therefore, how to distinguish between "lost ordnance" and "weapons originally held by citizens" and recover them is a big problem.

In addition, the weapons that have been recovered come from dozens of different workshops and are now all mixed together. How can they be returned to their original owners? It's also a big problem.

The problem of ordnance is only a microcosm of the difficulties faced in post-disaster disposal.

It’s not just the ordnance that is missing. Even if thousands of houses, shops, and warehouses in the old city are reduced to ashes, something will always remain.

People who had lost everything valued their remaining possessions even more. On the morning of the next day before the fire was completely extinguished, some people had already ventured back to the city to see what was left.

Also, on the night when the garrison took over Steel Fort, a large number of carriages were pushed directly into the Rose River to keep the road open. So much so that the river was full of tables, chairs, clothes, tableware, and all kinds of things that could be taken away from home.

Although it was urgent to follow the authority at that time, it also dug a big hole for the finishing work in the future.

Even the above are not the most pressing problems. Inside and outside Steel Castle City, tens of thousands of hungry and homeless refugees are looking at the future with fear.

Putting out the fire is not the end, putting out the fire is just the end of the beginning.

…

[Steel Castle, South Bank of Old Town]

[Temporary garrison command post]

The sky was gray and the sun could not be seen.

Due to the terrain surrounded by mountains, the smoke and dust caused by the fire stayed in the sky above the steel castle and was difficult to disperse for a long time.

Everyone in line covered their mouths and noses with scarves, including Ernst Fuller.

He suppressed the urge to cough and vomit, and wrapped his cloak tighter around him, doing his best not to attract any extra attention.

To Fuller's right, a few steps away, a dead man was hanging from a newly erected gallows.

A wooden board was hung on the dead man's chest, and the cause of death was written in a few strokes on it - "I robbed".

Two crows landed on the dead man's shoulders, one on the left and the other on the right, cawing unscrupulously while feasting.

The dead man was pushed by the wind and swayed slightly. His dull eyes scanned the living people lining up, but the living people deliberately avoided his gaze.

The queue moved forward slowly, and Fuller was finally a little further away from the body, which gave him some psychological relief from his turbulent stomach.

Martial law did not end with the fire, and the steel castle is still under the control of the army.

The army's method of establishing order was brutal and ruthless, and any criminal - even a thief - would be hanged after a simple trial.

Looking around, there are identical ruins everywhere. Only the gallows erected along the road are brand new.

Fuller lowered his head, focusing on the calf of the person in front of him, but his mind was gradually occupied by other things.

Everything he had experienced was so crazy that he was still dizzy.

The cloak, the assassin, the strange feeling of the cold sword digging into the thigh, the slippery brain dripping to the ground...

In just a few days, he fell from a respectable forge owner to a miserable speculator on the verge of bankruptcy. Then a fire wiped out all his wealth, and he even lost the qualification to go bankrupt.

But in the desperate situation, there is a ray of light and a turning point...

The team moved a few steps forward, but Fuller still stood there stupidly. It wasn't until someone behind him coughed in dissatisfaction that he came back to his senses and hurriedly followed.

If a good person comes over at this moment and asks the identities of the people in line one by one, he will be surprised to find that the people in this long line are, if not respected masters of the forge, at least free people with civil rights. .

It is already a wonder to have so many "people who really own steel forts" waiting in line like ordinary soldiers.

But no one in line was in the mood to appreciate the comments. Most of them were just like Fuller: their faces covered, their eyes gloomy, and they said nothing.

It is not difficult to understand that anyone whose family property has been destroyed by a fire has no intention of joking now.

The long line crawled slowly, and everyone who passed the sentry post was carefully searched, and Fuller was no exception.

A sergeant held his halberd and looked at Fuller with the eyes of a prisoner. Two soldiers approached Fuller and motioned for him to open his arms.

Fuller felt a little uncomfortable being stared at and turned his head to look at the Rose River.

In the middle of the river, some militiamen were being led by military-looking men, carefully salvaging debris from the ice.

The spring-loaded shotgun that Fuller carried with him was quickly found out - of course, Fuller had no intention of hiding it in the first place.

The sergeant holding the halberd took the short gun from his subordinates, frowned, and asked in a bad tone: "What are you doing with this?"

"Self-defense," Fuller replied quietly.

The sergeant holding the halberd checked the barrel and gunpowder tank, but saw no lead bullets or gunpowder: "Empty?"

Fuller also felt a little embarrassed: "I just used it to scare people."

The sergeant holding the halberd shook his head and put the gun in the box in the guard box: "I'll get it when I go out."

"well."

From the night the army took over the Steel Fort, the chapel covered bridge and nearby houses were requisitioned by the garrison and serve as a temporary command post for the garrison until today.

Following the instructions, Fuller walked into a shop at the end of the bridge.

The store's original furnishings have been cleared away, and the counter top is completely occupied by maps.

There are far more shelves inside the counter than there should be in a store. In order to place so many shelves, all the partitions in the room were removed.

Several people who looked like scribes were walking among the shelves, busy filing documents, and several orderlies were constantly moving boxes of files into the room.

Behind the counter sat an officer with bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair. When he saw Fuller coming in, the officer raised his eyelids slightly: "Name?"

"Fuller. Ernst Fuller."

"Did you bring the title deed?"

Fuller nodded vigorously: "Bring it."

"Take it out as soon as you bring it!"

With Fuller's warmth, the deed of the workshop and all the certificates of the forge were placed on the counter.

The officer glanced at it and turned around to give a few instructions. Several clerks immediately rummaged through the shelves.

After a while, a clerk came near the counter with a copy of the document.

Comparing the supplementary file kept at the city hall, the temporary clerk who was originally affiliated with the city government confirmed that the land deed was not a forgery and nodded slightly to the officer.

The officer took the land deed, marked the location on the map, rang a bell to summon a messenger, and told Fuller without raising his head: "He will take you there."

Fuller wanted to ask something else, but the officer was already urging impatiently: "Next!"

The ordering soldier took the map, raised his hand in salute, and then walked out the door. Fuller followed the other party out of the store in a daze.

After walking out of the room, the orderly asked skillfully: "Do you have many things in your shop?"

"Quite a bit."

"Then go get a carriage first." The messenger took Fuller to the stable: "And ask two militiamen to help move things."

Fuller thought of his warehouse and said hesitantly: "I'm afraid one carriage won't be enough."

"Hey, don't worry. The masters I met today were all worried that one carriage would not be enough." The messenger grinned: "Only when we got there did we find that even one carriage could not hold it."

The messenger drove the carriage, carrying Fuller and two militiamen, and slowly drove out of the bridge camp.

It's easy to get lost when walking in the current old city, because the once narrow and dark streets and alleys have completely changed their appearance.

The places that were once workshops, churches and wooden houses are now in ruins. There are no landmarks to tell people where they are. Only the remaining spire of Elin Cathedral in the distance still stands amazingly.

The Fuller family's workshop is not difficult to find, just a short walk along the river bank. Just coming to terms with what the workshop has become took some time for Fuller.

The walls of the workshop collapsed, the roof collapsed, and the two forges that Fuller's father and grandfather were so proud of were buried in the rubble.

In the warehouse where two heavy-duty carriages could originally be parked, only a short section of the wall that was blackened by smoke remained and refused to fall down.

The messenger whistled: "Look for anything worth taking away."

Fuller walked into the collapsed warehouse so that no one else could see his tears.

To be honest, he originally thought he didn't like this workshop: it was too noisy, too small, and there was a rafter that he would bump into accidentally.

But at this moment, he felt an inexplicable sadness. Not because of the loss of property, but because the traces left by my grandfather and father have since been erased.

"We can't clean up such a big area by ourselves." The messenger followed: "How about I ask a few more people to come?"

"No, no need." Fuller replied unconsciously. He sniffed hard, used his memory to find the area where the warehouse shelves should be, and began to clean up the soil and charred wood on the top layer.

Two militiamen also silently extended their hands to help.

After the wooden structure was burned, it was carbonized even if it was not completely burned, so it took little effort to move it.

Just as they worked together to remove a few thick beams, a militiaman suddenly screamed. Fuller couldn't help but tremble as he knocked down the militia's finger.

Under the beam, there was a body that had not yet been burned. The exposed skin was charred and cracked, revealing dark red flesh.

The orderly soldier came over and took a quick look, lightly kicked the beam that was pressing on the body, and concluded without surprise: "The mob who took advantage of the chaos to grab things were not very lucky, and the roof of the house was smashed to death."

The two militiamen were at a loss, and the orderly soldier had no intention of helping. Fuller stood for a while, bent his round waist, grabbed the charred corpse's shoulders and dragged it outside the ruins.

Unexpectedly, although the upper body of the charred corpse was dragged by Fuller, the lower body still stayed in place, and the contents of the corpse's abdominal cavity flowed all over the floor.

The two militiamen couldn't bear it anymore and rushed outside the hospital and vomited.

The ordering soldier also turned his head in disgust, and kindly advised: "Why don't you move the body, just leave it here for now, so as not to delay your search for anything."

"No." Fuller gritted his teeth: "This is the workshop left by my father and my grandfather. How could a thief use it as a tomb?"

The messenger didn't say anything more and bent down to help Fuller. The two of them spent some time and finally got the body outside the workshop.

Fuller extended his hand to the messenger gratefully, but the messenger just covered his nose and shook his head.

The work of clearing the rubble continued, another beam was removed, and this time it was Fuller who let out a yelp - a yelp of surprise.

Under the gaze of the other three people, the fat and white forge master knelt on the ground, digging back and forth in the ash heap regardless of dignity.

Soon, Fuller pulled out a musket. Although the barrel of the gun has been smashed crooked and the butt of the gun has been burned black, there is no doubt that a musket is a musket.

Encouraged, Fuller continued to rummage down, and more stacked musket barrels that were pressed under the rubble were exposed to the air.

The messenger looked around at the ruins, estimated the original layout of the house, and stroking his chin to analyze: "It seems that the roof collapsed quickly, which may be a good thing? If the things beside the door are still there, there should be no problem inside."

Upon hearing this, Fuller fell to the ground. After a while, he started sobbing quietly.

The two militiamen looked at each other, but the messenger seemed to have seen nothing and said to himself: "Looking at it this way, one carriage is definitely not enough, and more people have to be found to clean up the ruins. But, it's not a big problem. , Steel Castle is lacking everything now, except for people... Who is that, what is your name? It doesn't matter, you go back to Captain Huth, ask the Captain to send three more men, and say that we found a complete storehouse."

The militiamen saluted, turned and ran towards the camp.

The orderly soldier picked up Fuller and helped him dust himself off without saying any words of comfort. Fuller wiped away tears but kept thanking him.

You know, usually the forge owners don't take the big-headed soldiers seriously, but the current situation is rare.

Fuller was crying and laughing on one side, and on the other side, a one-horse carriage drove over from the east.

The old man with a gray beard in the car saw a few people in the ruins. He squinted his eyes for a moment and suddenly stood up and asked loudly: "Ernst? Is that you?"

Fuller wiped his face carelessly and walked towards the road.

Fuller was greeted by another forge owner named Georg. Georg was of the same generation as Fuller's father, but he was not very close to the Fuller family in the past and had very little contact.

It's just that the forge masters of Steel Castle have just experienced a disaster together, and the unfamiliarity and prejudice in the past have also been diluted. Everyone has a common feeling of sadness when facing each other.

Georg picked up the water bag from the car and handed it to Fuller: "How is the situation in your workshop?"

Fuller was about to answer when he suddenly remembered that glimmer of hope, and his thinking suddenly became sharper.

He took the water bag, took a sip, shook his head slightly, and said nothing.

Georg spat into the peat beside the road, and his beard trembled with anger: "It's thieves again, it's fire again, and those who didn't suffer thieves or fire were torn apart by the legion, what a fucking ghost !”

"Where's your family?" Fuller asked.

Old Georg slapped his thigh and cursed loudly: "The workshop was blown up by the army with gunpowder, and half of the warehouse was left, but it was of no use? The good sword strips were all destroyed after being put through the fire! They were not destroyed!" Even those that are deformed by burning must be sent for hardening again, but where can I find a hardener now? Who can I sell to after hardening?"

Fuller's mind moved and he kept nodding.

"I heard that there are many workshops left on the North Bank. Alas, why didn't I place the forge on the North Bank?" The old man became more and more sad as he spoke: "I also heard that the warehouses at the dock in Nancheng District are all intact. If I had known it, I also left all my things at the Nancheng District Pier, who could know? Who could have known that these things would happen?"

Fuller echoed and comforted the old man a few words, and then asked tentatively: "Uncle Georg, what do you plan to do with the remaining goods?"

Hearing this, the old man who was still tossing and repenting just now suddenly became energetic: "What? Do you have a way?"

Fuller was noncommittal: "You have to be prepared. No matter what, the knife and sword strips that have been through the fire will not be the same as the original price."

Old Georg stared at Fuller for a long time and asked suspiciously: "I remember that your father never used an outside hardener. Your family also has an annealing furnace?"

"My workshop only makes gun barrels, not sword strips."

"Don't deceive me!" Old Georg slapped his thigh again and sprayed Fuller's face with spittle: "You take away my sword for free, harden it yourself, and then use it as a brand new sword. Sell ​​it! You little boy, when did you learn to be so treacherous? You are simply more treacherous than the Veneta people!"

Fuller wanted to explain that he was just the middleman. But he remembered the other party's request - to avoid exposing the real buyer as much as possible.

So Ernst Fuller, the fat white man, suddenly became concerned and asked bluntly: "Just tell me whether you want to sell it or not!"

Georg's breath hitched. The old man pursed his lips again and again, and finally jumped off the carriage and took Fuller to a deserted place: "Let's discuss a price first."

Fuller stood firm and whispered, "I have one more request."

"Trouble! Tell me!"

"Keep it secret. You can't tell others that I bought it." Fuller thought for a moment and gave himself a reasonable motive. He said coyly: "This business... is not honorable."

Georg glanced at the surrounding militiamen: "As long as you don't tell others that I sold it to you."

…

[Steel Castle, North Bank of Old Town]

[Municipal Palace]

The three landmark buildings of the Steel Castle are Elin Cathedral on the south bank and the Municipal Palace and the Parish Guild on the north bank.

A fire broke out overnight, and the roof of the Elin Cathedral collapsed, but the Municipal Palace and the Parish Guild were safe.

Starting from the day after the fire in the city was under control, the City Council members of Steel Castle who were still able to act gathered at the city hall, and then... began to discuss.

The topics discussed covered all aspects, such as refugee resettlement and relief, post-disaster reconstruction, whether to levy special taxes, etc.

There are also some very acute issues. For example, some members believe that the garrison's takeover of Steel Fort seriously violated the laws of the autonomous prefecture and the Republic and trampled on the property rights of citizens. The city government should immediately submit a petition to the Grand Council and demand compensation.

Some members believe that according to law, the command of the Steel Castle militia belongs to the mayor elected by the city council, and the legion should immediately return the command.

However, the above-mentioned issues are limited to discussion, and the discussions have been carried out to this day without any results.

On the other hand, the Steel Fort is now completely in the hands of the military. Without discussion, what else can the congressmen do?

On the first floor of the chamber, members held their own opinions and debated fiercely.

On the second floor of the conference hall, a young lady wearing a blue veil sat quietly in the corner.

A figure quietly walked up to the second floor of the meeting hall and came to the young lady's side. The guard recognized the face of the person he recognized and did not stop him.

The visitor took off his hat, held it in his hand, and saluted respectfully: "Madam."

Anna responded politely: "Mr. Fuller."

"His Excellency the Baron is..."

"He had other things going on."

"I understand, I understand." Fuller nodded repeatedly: "I'm here..."

"Don't worry." Anna looked at the audience: "Listen first."

Senator Servetus’s dry voice came from the first floor: “…distributed relief and assistance are inferior to overall relief and assistance in terms of efficiency and effectiveness, and the possibility of the military compensating for losses during disaster relief is also close to Zero. Considering the above factors, additional special movable property tax is the only feasible option.”

The audience suddenly started shouting:

"Special chattel tax?"

"What crazy talk!"

"Steel Castle has just experienced a fire. Are you going to raise taxes at this time?"

A steady male voice drowned out the other noises - it was Iron Hand Geisberg: "Your Majesty, Congressman, who will be targeted by the special movable property tax you plan to levy? The blacksmiths' guild no longer has any extra funds."

"The blacksmiths' guild does not have excess funds, but other guilds do." Councilor Servetus' tone remained unchanged: "The purpose of levying chattel tax is not to take funds from the blacksmiths' guild, but to use funds from other guilds to rescue blacksmiths. Guild.”

"Which guild can afford to rescue the blacksmith guild?"

"According to my calculations..."

"Stop calculating!" Geisberg interrupted Servetus's speech: "Instead of spending energy on misappropriating the assets of other guilds, it is better to find a way to get the garrison to return the collected ordnance to us as soon as possible. Each workshop has its own As long as you take some time, the mark will be returned to its original owner sooner or later."

"This is another thing I said. Returning the items to their original owners is an act that outweighs the gains. The best strategy is for the city government to come forward and buy all the ordnance as a whole in the form of guaranteed debts, and assist all workshops to rebuild without discrimination..."

The audience started shouting again:

"absurd!"

"Where does the city government get the money to guarantee the debts of all the workshops? Is it possible to mortgage the Municipal Palace?"

The voice of the iron hand Geisberg sounded again: "The hard-working blacksmith makes money, and the lazy blacksmith loses money. This has always been the case. Some workshops run well, and some workshops run poorly. The good ones continue to survive, and the bad ones continue to survive. If you are good, you should go bankrupt. Guarantee debts indiscriminately, where is the principle of fairness?!"

Fuller on the second floor listened more and more strangely. He couldn't help but ask in a low voice: "Madam, isn't Iron Hand a die-hard loyalist to Servetus? Why does he want to sing against Servetus? And why does Mayor Wooper say nothing? Did not say?"

"Iron Hands opposed Servetus because their interests diverged." Anna propped up her chin: "Mayor Wooper didn't speak because he was thinking about three things."

"What's up?"

"How to abdicate responsibility and take credit." Anna paused for a moment: "And how to abdicate responsibility and take credit at the same time."

Fuller glanced at Paul Wooper, who was in a purple robe and was distracted, and couldn't help but became speechless.

"Please tell me what you need, Mr. Fuller."

Fuller was stunned for a moment, then suppressed his joy and reported as calmly as possible: "Currently, four workshop owners have agreed to sell excessive ordnance at low prices - secret delivery. Mr. Gotze is still considering it, but I think Sooner or later he will agree."

"You are doing a great job, Mr. Fuller. More workshop owners should take the initiative to contact you in the next few days, please continue."

"Then...buy them all?"

"Yes, all of them."

"If you buy them all, so many semi-finished products and scrapped ordnance will leak out sooner or later." Fuller became a little worried about gain and loss: "In what name do you plan to buy it?"

"In what name?" Anna smiled: "Of course it's scrap metal."

[No update in the week before support, sorry]

[Originally I planned to end the story of Steel Castle with one chapter, but now it seems that another big chapter is needed]

[Heat treatment is an important part of the material forming process. After metal materials are overheated, it is easy to lose their original surface properties and even overall mechanical properties]

[For example, if a cold weapon is thrown into a furnace and heated red, and then cooled to room temperature, the surface hardness will decrease even if the shape remains unchanged. That is, the original heat treatment was in vain, and quenching and tempering were required again]

[Thank you book friends for your collection, reading, subscription, recommendation votes, monthly votes, rewards and comments, thank you all]