Lord: My Shop Connects to Modern Times

"The above is all the intelligence information collected and compiled by the royal capital."

「——Liya」

After reading the last sentence, Lynn slowly folded the letter and put it in the drawer.

He stood up and paced back and forth in the room.

The intelligence was even stranger than he had imagined.

He originally thought that Charles VI would either die of illness after a while, or be completely controlled by that guy named Maurice.

Unexpectedly, the other person's illness was miraculously cured!

He even pulled off the bizarre move of abdicating.

This defied common sense, and Lynn couldn't understand it at all.

If he were to become king, there are only two possibilities for him to relinquish the throne: either he is overthrown, or he is nearing the end of his life.

Lynn would rather have received news of Charles VI's death, at least then he could be certain that Maurice was behind it all.

But now that the illness is cured, who knows if Maurice is really just an ordinary court physician, or someone connected to the forces behind Karl?

However, Lynn still believes that Morris himself has the problem.

Lynn sighed and stopped at the table.

The outcome of this question is no longer important.

Regardless of whether he is normal or not, the throne has already been passed on. It remains to be seen which prince will become the new king, and what new ideas or attitudes the new king will have towards the Southern Territory.

There are also new, never-before-seen monster species emerging in the Eastern Territory...

Lynn sat back down in his chair and turned his thoughts to Frostfire City.

The letters from Frostfire City arrived a day earlier than those from the capital.

It describes in detail the current situation in Frostfire City—several large, unknown mercenary groups have appeared, other nobles frequently visit Count Karl in Frostfire City, taxes in the city have increased by 30% year-on-year, and blacksmith shops are processing weapons and armor in large quantities…

And most importantly, cement has been replicated in Frostfire City, and the city is now using this material to build its walls on a large scale.

There's no good news from either side!

Lynn couldn't help but rub his forehead.

"Knock knock knock—"

A knock came at the door.

"Enter."

The door was pushed open, and standing outside was Hal.

His face was flushed with excitement. He showed no intention of coming in, but instead shouted from the doorway:

"My lord! My lord! That cannon...it's finished!"

Lynn's eyes lit up upon hearing this. Excellent, this was the best news he had heard in the past few days.

"Take me there!"

……

In the artisan district, near Hal's blacksmith shop, a large crowd had already gathered.

Most of them had heard that Hal was manufacturing new weapons on the orders of the lord.

Ever since the steam engine was invented here, whenever Hal's blacksmith shop has something new, people always come over to take a look and join in the fun when they have some free time. Now it's almost become a must-visit spot in Grayrock Town.

Now, the large, iron-gray object displayed at the entrance of the blacksmith's shop has once again become the subject of everyone's discussion.

"Hey! What good stuff has Hal come up with this time?"

"What nonsense are you talking about! This is probably another idea from the lord."

"Tell me, where does the lord get so many ingenious ideas?"

"I don't know, but who cares? The things the lord researches are always very useful."

"I have no idea what this is for, it's huge! It looks like a chimney!"

"Hey! You even have wheels on your chimney...?"

The group discussed in hushed tones, but now their curiosity outweighed their surprise. After all, having lived in Grayrock Town for a long time, they had already seen too many novel gadgets that Lynn had researched.

"The Lord has arrived!"

A loud voice rang out, and Hal led Lynn to the back of the crowd. When the crowd saw Lynn, they all made way for him.

Lynn stepped over the crowd and immediately spotted the field gun lying there.

It was a huge, iron-gray behemoth, its cannon barrel gleaming with a metallic sheen in the afternoon sun.

The cannon is mounted on a two-wheeled carriage, with the muzzle slightly upturned and a simple aiming device at the rear.

The gun carriage was made of high-quality elm wood, the wheel hubs were reinforced with iron hoops, and the tow bar was thick and sturdy.

Several shells lay on the ground nearby—the tin cans contained shotgun shells, the cast iron balls contained solid shot, and there were also several propellant packets wrapped in oil paper.

"My lord." Thorin and Ivan, having heard Hal's voice, came out of the blacksmith's shop. Thorin, unusually, had a smile on his face: "Is this how it is?"

Lynn walked around the cannon once.

The surface of the gun barrel is relatively smooth, the trunnion is accurately positioned, the various parts of the gun carriage are tightly connected, and the wheels rotate flexibly.

Yes, the structure is almost identical to the field artillery I remember from my previous life; the men under my command have clearly put in a lot of effort.

It's one thing to create something, but whether it works and how well it works is another.

"Have you tried it?" Lynn asked.

"Um...we didn't dare to try it." Hal scratched his head. Although the manual Lynn brought had specific operating details, they didn't dare to try this new gadget themselves unless Lynn told them.

"I'm afraid something might happen. What if it explodes..." Evan added from the side. He was the person who knew the most about the power of gunpowder besides Lynn.

Lynn nodded.

It's a good thing that most of the technicians in the territory have a sense of awe towards technology itself.

He took a deep breath.

"Take the cannon to the testing range," Lynn said. "We'll go over there and test fire it."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Anyone who wants to come and watch can come along, but remember to follow instructions."

A group of people got to work. They lassoed horses, dragged cannons, and moved ammunition. Lynn followed behind, his mind racing.

The blueprints for this cannon were obtained by him at the cost of over 8,000 public opinion points, and it was painstakingly hammered out bit by bit by Hal, Sorin, Ivan, and dozens of craftsmen over more than ten days.

If successful, Grayrock Town will have another real weapon. If it fails…

No, there is no such "if".

The testing ground was an open area, originally intended to be cultivated into farmland. However, due to the invention of the flintlock musket, Lynn considered that there would be various new equipment to test in the future, so he specially reserved this land.

The cannon was dragged to the center of the open space.

Hal directed the apprentices to adjust their positions, while Thorin lay on the ground checking the stability of the gun mount. Ivan stood beside them, holding the box of shells, nervously wringing his hands.

Lynn walked to the front of the cannon.

Everyone was looking at him.

He remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he said, "This is called a field gun; it's a new weapon I've been researching."

At this point, he patted the cannon barrel: "Hal, come here and load a shell... a solid shot."

Hal paused for a moment, then quickly got to work.

He opened the chamber cover at the breech, stuffed in a powder pack, and tamped it down with a tamping rod.

Then stuff in a bag of hay, followed by a solid cast iron shell. Finally, use a scoop to push it all the way in.

"Alright, sir."

Lynn walked to the breech of the gun and looked at the sights.

There's really nothing to aim at. There's a mound of earth about 300 paces away, about the height of a person, which can be used as a target.

Lynn adjusted the angle of the cannon muzzle.

Then step back a few steps.

"Where's the match rope?"

Hal handed over a long tinder rope, one end of which was already red-hot and smoking.

Lynn took it, then hesitated for a moment.

He glanced at the craftsmen around him. Hal was closest to him, his expression a mixture of tension and excitement. Thorin stood beside the gun carriage, while Ivan kept his distance, though he couldn't resist peeking in.

Everyone is waiting.

Success or failure hinges on this first shot!

Lynn gripped the ignition rope and brought it close to the ignition port at the breech of the cannon.

"Everyone, stand back," he said. "Twenty steps back."

The crowd stepped back.

Lynn pressed the ignition cord into place.

The ignition hole hissed and emitted white smoke, then—

boom!!!

A loud bang made Lynn's ears ring.

A puff of white smoke billowed from the muzzle, the cannon suddenly lurched backward, and the gun carriage creaked as it retreated more than half a foot.

Lynn squinted at the mound of earth three hundred paces away.

In the blink of an eye.

A cloud of dust exploded in the center of the mound, sending rubble and dirt flying high into the air.

Hit!

"We got it!" Hal shouted first, waving his hands. "My lord! We got it!"

The people around were stunned for a moment, then burst into cheers.

"Holy crap! It's so far!"

"What happened to the mound? It just disappeared?"

"This thing is way more powerful than a ballista!"

Lynn didn't move, just watched the dust gradually dissipate.

My ears are ringing; the loud bang is still echoing.

He walked over and touched the gun barrel. It was still cold; the solid shot had a small propellant charge, so it didn't put much pressure on the barrel.

"Load a shotgun shell," he said.

Hal paused for a moment, then quickly carried out the order.

The shotgun shells were in tin cans filled with lead pellets, separated by thin wooden strips.

The loading method is similar to that of solid shot, but you have to be extra careful when pushing it in at the end so as not to deform the tin can.

"Alright, sir."

Lynn adjusted the muzzle. This time, he aimed not at the mound of earth, but at an open area—the shot would scatter, and he needed to check the dispersion.

ignition.

boom--!

The sound was a bit muffled than before. The white smoke spewing from the cannon's muzzle was mixed with countless tiny black shadows, like a swarm of startled flying insects, spreading out in a fan shape forward.

Lynn looked at the open space 150 paces away.

There were several wooden planks standing there, which were used as targets for training the musket team.

Where the shot hit, the wooden planks shattered into sawdust.

All three targets are gone.

"This..." Ivan's eyes widened, his voice trembling, "This is..."

He had conducted countless gunpowder experiments and studied various explosives; he knew the power of gunpowder.

But he had never seen anything like it before—one shot, and an area several dozen paces wide became a death zone.

Hal was stunned. He looked at the shattered plank, then at the cannon he had built himself, opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Unlike the cheers just now, this time the crowd fell into a deep silence.

This intuitive feeling is different.

Once fired, the entire area within the designated range becomes a death zone.

This means that the extent to which this thing can harvest troops is calculated on a piece-by-piece basis.

People dare not imagine how horrific this thing would be on the battlefield.

If Gavin had had this when he attacked Greyrock, people doubted they could have held out for even a quarter of an hour...

Lynn walked to the cannon, squatted down, and carefully inspected the cannon.

No cracks. No deformation. The gun mount is also intact.

He stood up, looking at the craftsmen marveling at the cannon, at the residents excitedly discussing in the distance, and at the firing range torn to shreds by shrapnel.

More than 8,000 public opinion points, achieved in just over ten days—it was worth it.

"Hal".

"exist!"

"Take your men and inspect this cannon again carefully. Write down every part, every detail," Lynn instructed. "If everything is in order, start building the second one."

Hal nodded vigorously.

"Thorin".

The old stonemason squeezed through the crowd.

"The gun carriage is fine, but it can be improved." Lynn pointed to the axle: "Replace this axle with an iron one. Turning the gun left and right is too strenuous; we can't afford to wait that long on the battlefield."

Thorin crouched down to take a look, then nodded: "Okay, I'll change it when I get back."

"Evan".

Ivan held the box of shells, his eyes still fixed on the piece of broken wood.

"The ammunition needs further improvement," Lynn said. "The thickness of the tin canisters for the shotgun shells needs to be more precise. If they're too thick, they won't explode; if they're too thin, they'll shatter easily."

Ivan snapped out of his daze and nodded vigorously.

Lynn took one last look at the cannon.

The iron-gray cannon barrel gleamed with a metallic sheen in the sunlight, crouching there like a silent giant.

No matter what tricks Karl might have up his sleeve, if he dares to mess with me, I'll give him a taste of my "Italian Cannon" first.