When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist
Chapter 55: Forging Iron Spears and Rapid Formation of an Army

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Forging Iron Spears and Rapid Formation of an Army

In the center of the Gulag Monastery courtyard stands an electric arc furnace, taller than a person.

This furnace is cylindrical overall, with a square box on one side and an iron outlet as thick as a wrist at the bottom.

The furnace is made of mud bricks and salt soil, with a layer of mortar applied around the outside.

Unlike Horn’s homeland, where producing a blast furnace for smelting iron requires first advancing in coke technology, blast technology, refractory brick technology, and even some engineering mechanics.

But here, with Jeanne’s lightning smelting technique, a simple blast furnace is enough to produce good iron.

Beside the arc furnace are baskets of collected iron items, some rusty, some intact.

A few strong-armed villagers swing large hammers to smash these iron items into pieces for easier smelting.

The Gulag Monastery, after all, is not a blacksmith’s shop, nor a castle, and naturally doesn’t have much iron ore or ingots in its warehouse.

So, the method Horn thought of is to repurpose waste, forging farm tools and everyday iron items into weapons.

Due to the presence of rust and impurities, the efficiency of remelting iron items here using the wet method is very low, but for Jeanne, who can melt iron with lightning, it’s not an issue.

As baskets of iron pieces are poured into the arc furnace, Jeanne grips the oak rods extending from the furnace.

Suddenly, a streak of electricity snakes through the air, and in the next moment, Jeanne’s hair floats up, as the dazzling golden light dyes her hair gold.

At the place where her hands meet the oak, sparks the size of sand grains flash.

Grain by grain, sparks advance along the rod, drawing black lightning-like lines.

"Zzzzz——"

The sound of electricity grows louder, and the hair and body hair of those standing near the furnace begin to stand on end, frightening them to quickly step back.

The chimney of the arc furnace spews not black smoke, but blue lightning, and amid the electric sound, the sounds of iron water explosions and splattering become clearer.

As sweat beads pour from Jeanne’s forehead, the red-hot iron water slowly flows from the iron outlet.

The iron water flows from the outlet into another stone jar, where two blacksmith apprentices stir it continuously with wooden sticks.

When the iron water flows from the stone jar into the clay molds, it forms into iron ingots and cast spearheads.

Taking a cooled cast spearhead, Horn flicks it with his finger, producing a crisp sound.

These cast iron spears, though produced quickly, have spearheads that can fully arm a hundred men in just three days.

However, their quality is subpar, and the casting is rather fragile, with each spearhead breaking after at most ten uses.

But it’s enough for the Child Soldiers to hold the line, considering they’re only facing the Peasant Soldiers.

They might still be in the stone age; it’s definitely a lower-dimensional strike.

Pig iron ingots are used to craft fine weapons for the Pope’s Guard, as they, after all, must face the Night Guards.

"Your Grace."

While contemplating by the arc furnace, Horn hears Jeska’s voice.

"Your Grace, the conscription is complete. Excluding the old, sick, and single children, we have recruited a total of 120 new soldiers."

Pulling Jeska to sit by the flowerbed, Horn monitors the training of the Child Soldiers while listening to Jeska’s report.

"Your Highness, according to Lady Diya’s words, the Church should be sending about two hundred people to, ah, compete with us.

Among these two hundred, I estimate there won’t be more than three squads of Armored Soldiers, which is 36 people, and at most five squads of Night Guards, which is 60 people.

As for the rest, I estimate they are mainly Peasant Soldiers composed of refugees and Public Register Farmers.

If the flood doesn’t come, there might be nearby knights coming to help, to rack up some battle achievements.

But now, with the roads blocked, bridges destroyed, and famine everywhere, those Master Knights probably aren’t in the mood.

So, conservatively, we face 36 Armored Soldiers, 60 Night Guards, and 100 Peasant Soldiers."

Nodding constantly as he listens to Jeska, Horn has to admit, being a professional mercenary, he is indeed skilled.

But no matter how Jeska tries to embellish, Horn knows deep down.

According to Jeska, the Pope’s Guard can muster fifty relatively elite Veteran Throne Guards.

These elite guards are no match for the Armored Soldiers, collapsing with a single charge.

They’re not a match for the Night Guards either, barely able to ensure a defense, unable to attack proactively.

As for those 120 new recruits, they’re hard-pressed against the Night Guards, maybe only able to fight the Peasant Soldiers.

Their only advantage is having Danji, a Knight at the fourth level of breathing technique, and Jeanne, the Witch.

These two can mostly slaughter the Peasant Soldiers and Night Guards, but have some difficulty against groups of Armored Soldiers.

Jeanne’s extraordinary ability is truly heaven-defying, but unfortunately, iron in this world is non-conductive, greatly reducing its power.

"We only have five days." Horn stretches out five fingers, "In these five days, I need you to quickly train an army.

As for how to quickly train, I’ll write a plan for you later, and then we’ll discuss it together to see if it’s feasible."

"Understood, Your Grace." Jeska stands up to leave, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder from Horn.

"Wait a moment, I have one more thing to discuss with you."

Jeska immediately sits up straight.

"You’re usually in charge of the Pope’s Guard, as well as a whole Hundred Households, and now you have to train new troops. Isn’t the burden too heavy on you?"

"Not heavy, not heavy."

"Jeska, you’re different from others. Make sure not to waste your time on civil affairs. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and you need to focus your main energy on the military."

"You mean...?"

"You’ll temporarily step down from the position of Hundred Households Captain and Papal Guard Captain.

The position of Hundred Households Captain will be temporarily taken over by the Archbishop of Madlan, and I’ll personally take over as Captain of the Guard. You’ll be the commander of the new army."

Jeska had already anticipated such a day might come.

After all, under the original setup, he managed the military, the civilians, the Imperial Guard, and even had a small station to train new troops.

If it went any further, it would probably be "Hundred Households as Pope" and "Jeska, the Sovereign Staff."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Jeska rises to salute immediately, accepting as long as Busak isn’t the one to succeed him.

"There’s one more thing, what should our new army be named?"

"I have a suggestion." Smiling, Horn thrusts the cast iron spear into the spruce trunk beside him. "Let them decide for themselves."

"Decide for themselves?" Jeska is somewhat puzzled, "You mean, let them come up with a name?"

"Yes." Pulling the spear from the trunk, Horn plays with it in his hand. "When people decide something themselves, they feel a sense of identification with it.

When a group decides things together, they’ll feel like creators and founders, which gives them a sense of belonging."

"Alright, I understand, Your Grace."

Jeska nods, ponders for a moment, and then asks, "Your Grace, I have a question: from your perspective, can Her Highness the Saintess really hold back those Armored Soldiers?"

"That’s what I’m pondering too." Horn rubs the stubble on his chin with his fingers. "Hmm, I just remembered an expert in this field, maybe he knows how to gauge the Witch’s combat strength."