"Full of lies," when Roland finished dealing with the alchemist's matter and returned to the office, Nightingale said aloud, "What four-hundred-and-fifty-year-old ancient book, wasn't 'Elementary Chemistry' the textbook you wrote for Scroll to memorize? That thing will be taught to the people sooner or later, right? "
"It's just a white lie," Roland picked up the cup and drank a mouthful of tea. Since the king's merchant Margaery gave him a bag of black tea, he could finally say goodbye to the days of drinking plain water or ale every day, "A prince living in the palace, how could he know so much about alchemy? If he did, it would be from the king's alchemist's teachings. (See: The literature building gave him a textbook for him to study by himself, which is much easier to accept than me teaching him alchemy. After all, people always believe in themselves the most.)
"Oh?" Nightingale suddenly leaned over and moved closer to Roland, "Then who taught you your knowledge?"
"Uh …" Roland had just opened his mouth, but Nightingale's finger stopped him, "If you don't want to say it, don't say it. I don't want to hear you lie. "
He blinked, and the other side withdrew her hand.
"There are still five days before the competition," Roland took the opportunity to change the topic, "I have to let Carter familiarize himself with the operation of the new weapon in advance."
"But didn't you say that the ammunition problem hasn't been solved?"
"Collodion only affects its use in actual combat. If it's only for the competition, it's still possible to shoot one round with each gun. After all, during the competition, there's no need to worry about transporting bullets and reloading repeatedly, ten bullets are enough to get the result, "Roland said. Of course, the problem of the firing rate decreasing due to the lack of collodion was a matter of probability, this point could only be decided by God and Carter's face.
*****
West of the town's walls.
Carter came to the previous explosive test field, accepting the new task assigned to him by Roland.
"Fight with a witch?" The Chief Knight was startled, "Can I wear a God's Stone of Retaliation?"
"Of course you can," Roland said with a smile, "But you are facing a special witch, the God's Stone of Retaliation is ineffective against her, and her fighting style is similar to that of a warrior, using a greatsword to attack."
"You mean, she is a witch who is proficient in close combat?" Carter glanced at Nightingale, who was standing beside Roland.
"More or less, but because her ability is to strengthen herself, both her strength and speed are far superior to ordinary people." Roland said, "You have to be mentally prepared. The opponent's physical fitness is probably several times higher than the death row inmates who were used to test the pills."
"Several times higher … Your Highness, do you know what that means?" Carter's eyes widened. "It's very likely that even if I had observed her movements, my body wouldn't have been able to react. If she really is as powerful as you say, I'm afraid I won't be able to defeat her. "
"Theoretically speaking, your chances of winning are indeed zero." The prince handed over a strange-looking firearm. "But with this, your chances of winning will greatly increase."
"This is … a new flintlock?" Carter took it with both hands. Because its trigger and barrel were very similar to that of a flintlock, the Knight judged that they should belong to the same type of weapon. It wasn't big, but it was heavy in his hands, even heavier than a flintlock rifle. What was particularly eye-catching was that, except for the wooden grip, the entire gun body was made of metal. The smooth lines and corners, as well as the grayish-white metallic luster, had an indescribable beauty.
Carter almost instantly fell in love with this weapon.
"Its name is a revolver," Roland took out another weapon with the same shape and ejected a beehive-like wheel to the left. "Now I'll teach you how to use it."
Carter quickly discovered that its operation method was much simpler than that of a flintlock rifle. The pellet and gunpowder were already connected, and as long as it was loaded into the middle wheel, it could be fired. There were five holes in the revolver, which could be loaded with five rounds of ammunition at a time. This was probably the reason why it was called a revolver. At the end of the revolver, there was a small hole corresponding to the revolver. As long as the trigger was pulled, sparks would burst out from the hole, accompanied by a sizzling sound. Maybe there was a piece of flint hidden inside, he thought. However, the design of this bullet was too exquisite. The light yellow shell was probably made of thin copper plates, and the whole body was perfectly round. The whole body was smooth, and you couldn't see any traces of joints. The front of the bullet was thin and the back was thick, and the tail was about the thickness of an index finger. It could very accurately fit into the hole of the cartridge. In the end, how was this made?
"This is an unfinished product, so you always have to pay attention to the opening at the bottom of the bullet," Roland made a shooting motion, "Like me, the muzzle is slightly downward, don't let the gunpowder leak out from the opening. After each shooting, you have to clean the bullet nest of the revolver, to avoid the scattered gunpowder accumulating in the hole. "
"Unfinished product?"
"Yes," the Prince shrugged, "There is still a key technology that needs to be solved, if everything goes well, you may be able to catch up before the competition. When the time comes, the opening at the bottom of the bullet will be sealed, and you won't have to worry about the problem of gunpowder leaking. Let's try shooting first. "
If the bottom was sealed, how could the gunpowder inside the bullet be ignited? Carter thought for a moment, then decided to give up thinking about this seemingly impossible problem. After all, he wasn't as knowledgeable as His Royal Highness.
That's right, he was knowledgeable. Carter now admired His Royal Highness from the bottom of his heart. Whether it was a court scholar, a master alchemist, or an astrologer, no one could invent so many strange things like His Royal Highness. Moreover, these things had a very high practical value, unlike snow powder, people carrying kites, and the like, which could only be reduced to the aristocracy's toys. His Royal Highness's invention of the steam engine had already been used in the mine's mining and pumping operations, and the guns and cannons had repelled the demonic beasts and the Duke's coalition forces. Now, Carter firmly believed that as long as there was enough time, the one who would ascend to the throne of Graycastle would inevitably be His Royal Highness Roland Wimbledon.
The target stood ten meters away, and at this distance, the human-shaped target was only the size of a palm. In accordance with His Royal Highness's teaching, he held the gun with both hands, slightly tilted his body, aimed the barrel at the target, and pulled the trigger.
Sparks and gas sprayed from both sides of the wheel, and a loud noise shook his ears. He felt as if someone had pushed him, and his wrists unconsciously lifted up. When the smoke cleared, the target looked intact.
"Continue," Roland said.
Carter took a deep breath, and fired the remaining four bullets, but still, none of them hit the target.
"This …" Carter looked at His Royal Highness, but the latter didn't seem to care.
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