Lord Lawrence now temporarily serves as the administrator of Port City. Formerly the commander of the navy fleet, he now pays no attention to the three dilapidated sailboats.
Currently, he is leading his soldiers, along with conscripted commoners, to construct something called a "salt field" based on the blueprints.
Chris believes that this endeavor can profit Port City, so Lawrence has become a temporary overseer.
"By the gods... these damn pits and this inexplicable mineral powder, can they really turn the bitter seawater into table salt?" Lawrence, gripping his sword, complains while wiping sweat under the scorching sun.
In truth, he believes in Chris's words. After witnessing Chris's cannons firsthand, he has full faith in what Chris says. A person with absolute power won't deceive their subordinates.
At least, they won't engage in pointless deception. It's a matter of logic, and Lawrence understands it well.
Yesterday evening, a cavalryman from Seris City delivered a letter. The letter recounted the establishment of the Airenhill Principality, informing Lawrence that he is now the navy commander of the principality.
In reality, he still manages those few ships, but Lawrence has genuinely been promoted. He has risen to become the overall commander of the principality's navy, with a certain level of grandeur.
Before he could fully enjoy this promotion, he threw himself into the production of sea salt today. It's a somewhat ironic situation, at least in Lawrence's view.
"Even though those warships are a bit worn out, sending them out to sea for fishing to supplement Port City's food reserves seems a bit excessive..." A lieutenant, fanning himself to ward off the heat, expresses his frustration to Lawrence. "We are sailors; doing the work of fishermen is rather embarrassing."
"What's embarrassing? When we conscripted them, who wasn't a fisherman?" Lawrence grins, squinting his eyes under the intense sun, and sighs, "Let's just do whatever they ask us to do. We are all vassals of Airenhill now. What's the use of complaining?"
"Sir! Sir!" A middle-aged woman with sun-darkened skin excitedly runs over, swaying her plump hips with a sturdy, seaside woman's aura.
Approaching, the woman opens her mouth, revealing a set of white teeth, and her wrinkled face blossoms into a beautiful expression. "Sir, the experimental salt field has produced goods! Look!"
Finishing her words, she raises her right hand, presenting her palm in front of Lawrence with a triumphant expression. "Done exactly according to the procedures. We tasted it just now, and there's no hint of bitterness!"
"Really?" The lieutenant is skeptical, using his finger to poke the dirty palm, picking up a sparkling gray sea salt, and tasting it. A salty flavor rushes to his taste buds, bringing immense joy and freshness, causing his eyebrows to relax. "Hmm! Sir! It's salty!"
Hearing the lieutenant's exclamation, Lawrence also becomes curious. He picks up a small handful of sea salt from the woman's palm, puts it in his mouth, and instantly feels the salty and fresh taste. His face lights up.
"Good! Excellent!" He looks at the remaining salt in the woman's hand, laughing heartily. "Hahaha, with this salt, Port City can earn thousands of gold coins this year at least!"
In this world, sea salt is inedible due to its peculiar odor. Consequently, salt prices are exceptionally high. Places like Stronghold and further north, such as North County and the Grassland Empire, are major consumers of table salt, purchasing as much as they can. With this sea salt, they can earn a considerable amount of money from these northerners.
Even for this, the northerners are willing to exchange strategic resources like warhorses—imagine, Airenhill Principality will soon have a large number of top-quality cavalry.
"Let everyone speed up the construction! The faster we build these salt fields, the higher our income will be!" After reveling in self-satisfaction for a few seconds, Lawrence immediately gives orders.
Seeing the results, the commoners of Port City also accelerate their pace. This project is directly related to their income, so naturally, it becomes the most conscientious endeavor. Even under the scorching sun, the construction progress of the salt fields visibly speeds up.
In fact, this world has a certain industrial foundation. For example, there are many special metals that can enhance various properties of common metals. Ceris's abundant Radiant Iron is one of them.
Alloys with this Radiant Iron added can have better strength and be lighter—better and more perfect than aluminum alloys, almost like a budget version of super titanium alloys.
Due to the need to face potential stronger attacks, metallurgical processes such as casting and smelting are well-developed, surpassing the early levels familiar to Chris. This is also the reason Chris can immediately produce cannons—people here lack a systematic scientific framework, not the corresponding application level.
At the same time, alchemy is prevalent in this world. Many alchemists have basic chemical knowledge, and they are not surprised by some chemical reactions. They easily accept Chris's advanced chemical findings.
However, despite this, Chris can't achieve everything in one go. He can only slowly develop his territory, allowing industry to gradually penetrate every corner. In the current Seris City, commoners are already accustomed to various novelties. Inexpensive textiles and daily necessities that make people's hair stand on end have become commonplace.
Thanks to the substantial funding brought by Desail, the return of Stride, and the planning and development talents of Gullo, Ceris's industrial progress is proceeding in an orderly manner, growing steadily.
At this time, a group of knights appears outside Seris City's castle. They carry the green royal flag representing the Arant Empire, adorned in shining armor, curiously observing merchants from all corners of the world.
"We are emissaries of General Zorn, the supreme commander of the Arant Empire's military. We are here to convey General Zorn's orders." Without dismounting, the leading officer, with a raised chin, overlooks the soldiers standing guard at the city gate and says.
The on-duty soldiers know they cannot afford to neglect envoys from the empire and immediately order someone to pass the message. Meanwhile, they command a soldier to let the group through and personally lead a few people to guide these knights toward Seris's castle.
Chris has been relatively leisurely these days because the planning has been completed, and many devices had to be abandoned due to immature technology. Without the hassle of drawing blueprints, he can go to the barracks to check on the training of the new recruits.
However, he didn't go to the barracks today. Instead, he is reading in the castle, delving deeper into this magical and peculiar world. Many books in this world are akin to fantastical novels in his understanding, making them enjoyable to read.
For example, the book he's currently holding recounts the life of the mage Grelmell III. This great mage had a giant dragon capable of speaking as his mount and independently founded a powerful magical kingdom...
If this book were in Chris's pre-transmigration world, it would undoubtedly be a highly popular fantasy magic novel. Chris praises the fascinating story while imagining the possible impact of modern civilization on this world.
"Your Highness! Envoys from the Arant Empire have suddenly arrived... They request an audience with you to convey General Zorn's orders." A servant pushes open Chris's door and stands respectfully, bowing his head to report.
"Hmm?" Chris cannot possibly know the purpose of these sudden visitors. He closes the book, using it to press down on a stack of blueprints related to the generator, and stands up, doing a couple of chest-expanding exercises. "I'll go meet them now..."
Walking to the reception hall, Chris sees the envoy from the Ayrant Empire in armor. When their eyes meet, both parties size each other up before starting to converse.
"I wonder... what brings you from afar, to deliver what command?" Chris doesn't know how to address the envoy, hesitating for a moment before taking the initiative to ask seriously.
The envoy pulls out a letter with a red seal from the leather scroll at his waist and hands it directly to Chris. "Lord Airenhill, General Zorn commands you to surrender all the new-style weapons in your possession to the Arant Empire."
"What?" Chris hears the envoy's words clearly but can't believe his ears. While he's desperately expanding his army for self-preservation, someone is directly coming to demand the weapons he relies on for survival...
"Lord Airenhill, because you are still a vassal of the Arant Empire, it is in your best interest to obey the empire's orders and hand over those new weapons." The envoy's face carries a faint smirk, repeating his order, "You'd better understand, defying the Arant Empire's orders won't be beneficial for you."
"My weapons were also bought with money, honored envoy." Chris carefully calculates. He then answers, "If the weapons can be converted into tax contributions based on their actual value, I can hand over these weapons to the empire's military."
He feels it's not the time to turn hostile just yet. He can find a reason to delay and then consult with Desail and others to discuss a countermeasure.
