Chapter 295:

Chapter 295:

Fort Bidou was ultimately lost. The lords inside took advantage of the deep night, setting up torches and banners on the walls as a decoy and quietly withdrew through an underground tunnel.

As dawn broke, the Duke’s army began preparing for a new day of attack, with Jace overseeing the command, his eyes bloodshot.

He had only slept a few hours the previous night. Late at night, a report came from the troops guarding the west side of the castle, saying that flickering lights were seen far to the west. The patrolling officer, not taking any chances, rode quickly to the main camp to report.

Fighting the irritation of being awakened, Jace inquired carefully, “Are you sure it’s enemy reinforcements?”

“We can’t be certain; it was too far away and disappeared quickly, but I thought it best to be cautious.”

“You did well. Alert all camps to be on guard!”

Jace had to be extremely vigilant. Who else would be traveling in the middle of the night? An unprepared ambush by the enemy would be disastrous.

Most soldiers of common origin couldn’t see clearly at night. Startled awake, they could only wield their weapons indiscriminately, friend or foe alike, especially since the continuous days of failed attacks had exhausted the troops. One wrong move could lead to chaos in the camp.

Thus, the entire army spent a tense night.

At dawn, to boost morale, Jace ordered wine and meat to be distributed. The soldiers feasted heartily before starting the new day’s attack.

However, they noticed the usually daunting thunder hammer was silent.

The soldiers, pushing heavy shield carts, slowly approached the castle. This defense was quite effective against long-range artillery and deadly shotgun fire at close range, provided they weren’t destroyed en route. They advanced cautiously, on edge, not hearing the thunderous roar of the hammer. Accustomed to advancing under fire, this sudden absence of pressure paradoxically heightened their anxiety. What worse traps might the castle’s defenders have prepared?

As the leading troops finally neared the gate, no grenades welcomed them. They then noticed something amiss — the figures on the walls seemed to be made of straw.

“Have the people inside fled?”

With this thought, some daring soldiers climbed the wall.

Indeed, apart from themselves, there was no one inside.

However, there was little he could do about it now, except to remind the two battalions stationed in Emden to closely monitor enemy movements.

Another matter that concerned him was a secret letter from Schroeder, mentioning a battle at the Duke’s border where the enemy had silently flanked and taken over an artillery position. Although Alda’s troops quickly recaptured it without losing a single cannon, the enemy had been in close contact with the artillery and might have come across residual gunpowder.

The enemy might deduce some information about gunpowder, but Paul wasn’t worried they could immediately reverse-engineer true black powder. Even if they broadly knew it comprised saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal, finding the optimal mix wasn’t straightforward. In the previous era, as the inventors of gunpowder, China, lacking rigorous chemical knowledge, hadn’t figured out the best mix for various types of gunpowder by the late Qing Dynasty, relying instead on craftsmen’s experience. Producing high-quality gunpowder required a series of complex processes like grinding, mixing, pressing, drying, and polishing. Since Paul developed gunpowder, his armament factories had been tirelessly researching and experimenting on how to improve the purity of saltpeter and sulfur, safely grind gunpowder, etc., developing dozens of processes and making fine adjustments to the material ratios according to different uses.

Although the Northwestern Bay didn’t lack saltpeter mines, the extraction method was still the primitive boiling method. As the saying goes, “a thousand days of boiling saltpeter can’t compare to one general’s cannon.” Expanding saltpeter production was a constant headache for Paul. To acquire saltpeter, he even had people scrape toilets from house to house, which was also one of the reasons he strictly prohibited public urination. Every bit counts, even if it’s not much.

Paul knew the principles of using nitrifying bacteria and urine to construct nitre beds for large-scale saltpeter production, but turning theory into a viable operation required time.

Alda’s enormous demand for saltpeter surely couldn’t escape the notice of the observant, so rather than going to great lengths to keep the gunpowder formula secret, it made more sense to spread misleading information.

Paul consulted with Ford, the chief steward of the Administration Council, and Cecil from the Intelligence Department. With the recent hot weather, he planned to build several ice factories.

Ford was shocked: “Sir, although we’re not as tight as in the past two years, Lakeheart Town doesn’t have many rich people to buy our ice. It’ll definitely be a losing business.”

“Ah, making money is secondary. My main intention is to use it as a cover...”

Paul explained his purpose to them.

Steward Ford nodded, “It seems to have some merit, but it’s going to cost a lot. We can’t let it be too obvious that it’s just a front.”

Seeing the chief steward’s agreement, Paul instructed Cecil, “You need to release some false information. Make the gunpowder formula as chaotic as possible. Also, use your imagination regarding the source, like saying it’s extracted from seawater.”

“Leave it to me, Count. Spreading rumors is easier than anything.”

Cecil confidently took on the task.

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