Claude returned to HQ in Lanu with a heart full of worries. He felt that it had been an unlucky year to have made such a huge mistake in the production of a simple grenade. Even if the problem could be solved, the time and production costs would be greatly increased. Claude always felt a sense of crisis looming over his head.
The latest report from the ministry of the army was that Shiks had already sent two fully formed and trained standing corps to Port Vebator two months ago. It was also said that there were three more corps in the process of being formed and trained in Port Vebator.
At the moment, Shiks had four corps stationed in Nubissia. Apart from the two standing corps, there was also a volunteer corps made up of retired soldiers from Nasri and a light cavalry corps made up of retired soldiers from Canas.
What worried Claude the most was that he had lost contact with the spies he had stationed in Port Vebator. They didn't send back any more information.
The intelligence officer reported that it was highly likely that they had been caught or met with an accident. He sent a few more spies there, but they didn't receive any information either.
What was worth noting was that the spies in Port Vebator and the ones he sent were all nikancha. Only nikancha roaming around wouldn't raise the enemy's suspicions.
At the same time, they were able to find the nikancha labourers in Port Vebator and get a lot of information from them.
Although the Nikancha people were discriminated against in the colonies because of their poor nature, they had to admit that they had their own merits.
For example, they were very united and had a sense of responsibility towards their families.
The families of the nikancha spies were all in the colonies, and they were given benefits and allowances every month.
Under such circumstances, the nikancha wouldn't betray them. Not to mention, they really hated Shiks.
After stopping the intelligence officer's request to send more nikancha spies to Vebator, Claude went through all the reports the ministry of the army had sent over the past six months.
In fact, the reports he received from the ministry of the army had been delayed for more than twenty days. It couldn't be helped. It was a long journey.
According to the report, Shiks had sent the two corps to Port Vebator two months ago. Coupled with the delay in the delivery of the report, it meant that the two corps had been in Port Vebator for three months.
Claude wasn't worried about the enemy gaining two more corps. Instead, he was worried about the enemy's movements in the past three months.
Only when he flipped to the latest report did Claude's eyes light up. The report stated that the Shiksan Alliance's fleet had left for Nubissia in the past two months. The ships they escorted were all filled with rations, causing the prices of Shiksan's grain to fluctuate and rise by an average of 10%.
He thought about the Shiksan smuggler from Port Vebator half a year ago who was conned by Fansnik. Claude breathed a sigh of relief. He suspected that the food shortage in Shiksan colonies hadn't been alleviated yet.
The fact that Shiks sent two standing corps to Port Vebator was like adding oil to the fire.
Otherwise, the Alliance wouldn't have sent the rations there in such a hurry. Usually, a trip like that would take at least a month to rest and reorganize. They wouldn't have to load up the rations and set out again right away.
He summoned his adjutant, Major Anders, and interrogated him about the Thundercrash Division's schedule.
Major Anders reported that the Thunderbolt Division would return in about two days, according to the news sent by the Hawk Eagles.
Berklin, Moriad and the rest not only showed off their might at the border of Cromwell and Vebator, they also wiped out a few light cavalry squads from Canas that went deep into Balingana. They killed more than thirty of them and captured more than twenty captives. They only suffered three heavy injuries and a dozen light injuries. Not a single Thundercrash soldier died.
Those fellows did pretty well. That was probably the only good news Claude had heard recently.
Since he had some free time in the two days before they returned, he decided to think about the problem of the power source.
He had always thought that the black iron shell of the thrower didn't need to be processed and could be made into a mold to make a crack.
But after asking Weyblon, he found out regretfully that the craftsmen they hired weren't that skilled. While it was easy for them to create a smooth black iron shell, it wasn't something the craftsmen or craftsmen could do to create a cracked black iron shell.
Moreover, even if the cracked black iron shell was successfully made, a lathe would be needed to fix it to a uniform standard.
At the same time, the bottom of the thrower would have to be threaded to fit the bottom of the fuse. That, too, would need to be processed.
Claude had no choice but to draw on the blueprint gloomily. He didn't draw a steam engine because he had never seen one before.
What he drew was a hot air balloon. He remembered growing up in the countryside and the people in the village called the hot air balloon a lighter. That was the only type of engine he could remember.
The reason why the villagers called the hot air balloon machine a lighter machine was very simple. This thing could only be started when there was a fire. Firewood, coal, gasoline, kerosene, branches, wood, rice stalks, newspapers, and so on. As long as the fire could be maintained, this thing would be able to run continuously.
They weren't steam engines and didn't need a boiler. They relied on the expansion of hot air in the cylinders to move the connecting rods and pistons.
Claude had seen some information on the internet in his previous life. It seemed that during the early days of liberation, the buses and trucks on the roads were all equipped with such hot air balloons. They would slowly move along the roads like tortoises.
It was said that the country had just been liberated and gasoline and diesel couldn't be bought. So, the captured trucks were all modified with the hot air balloons and carried half coal and the other half goods for long-distance travel.
The reason why Claude had such a deep impression of the hot air balloons was because there was one in his hometown and his grandfather treated it like a treasure.
His grandfather had once told him that there was no electricity in the village at that time. During harvest time, they would bring the hot air balloons to the sunning yard and use the rice stalks as firewood. Then, they would connect it to a threshing machine and the chaff of the rice would be removed. There was no need to pack them into bags and send them to town, which saved a lot of effort and effort.
When he was young, he had followed his grandfather to dismantle and wash the hot air balloons a few times. The structure of the hot air balloons was simple and sturdy, making them very durable.
His grandfather said that the hot air balloons were made during the early days of liberation and that they were still in perfect condition after thirty to forty years of use.
Of course, Claude later found out that the hot air balloons had many flaws. It wasn't that they weren't easy to use, but that they had a low heat conversion rate and wasted a lot of fuel.
It was noisy and polluted, so it was quickly eliminated.
After his grandfather passed away, the uncle in the village sold the hot air balloons to a junk collector for a high price of five kuai. After that, Claude went back to his hometown to visit his relatives and never saw the hot air balloons again.
Wiping away the tears at the corner of his eyes, Claude drew the hot air balloons that had left a deep impression on him when he was young on paper. There was a furnace used to start a fire and a snorkel connected to a circular cylinder.
At the top of the cylinder was a piston rod and an iron pipe chimney beside it.
After starting a fire in the furnace, the hot air would enter the circular cylinder through the snorkel. When the hot air began to expand, the piston rod would be pushed up. When it reached a certain height, the iron pipe chimney would be opened and the hot air would be discharged from there. The piston rod would then fall down and block the iron pipe chimney.
So, when the hot air expands in the cylinder, the piston rod is pushed again, it goes up, the iron pipe chimney passage is opened, the hot air is discharged, the piston rod is lowered … and so on and so forth … this is the hot air balloon machine …
Looking at the hot air balloons on the blueprint and the one in his mind, Claude thought, Did I skip the steam engine stage?
Whatever, it doesn't matter as long as I can use it. As long as I can solve the problem of the machinery's power and create the projectile, I won't have to worry about the enemy's increased military strength anymore.
War propelled the development of human history and technology. That wasn't wrong.
Had it not been for the fact that he was facing a powerful enemy, Claude might not have remembered seeing this thing when he was a child in his previous life.
At that moment, he had no idea how much the hot air balloons he drew would change this world.
Grabbing the blueprint, Claude left the command post and got on the carriage. He said to the coachman, "Go to my sister's place."
Two days later, Thundercrash returned to Lanu.
Berklin, Moriad, Dyavid and a few other high-ranking officers came to report to Claude.
They told him about their patrol in Cromwell and Balingana, as well as how they ambushed the light cavalry scouts in Balingana.
Claude found it strange. Why would they find light cavalry in Balingana?
Logically speaking, they should be scouting in Cromwell since it was connected to the Shiksan colony of Vebator.
Claude couldn't figure out why Canas's light cavalry would venture so deep into Balingana.
Moriad reported that the enemy scouts weren't there to scout the enemy, but to scout out the buffalo-hunting grounds.
Claude understood right away. Soon, it was July again. The migration of the buffalos on Nubissia's Albatol plains began once more. Close to a million buffalos would migrate from the northern highlands to the southern plains before returning to the northern highlands in November. The round trip would take nearly half a year.
Some experts said that the herd was so large that they had no choice but to travel long distances for food and to eliminate the old and weak.
Every year, nearly 10,000 old and weak bison would be hunted down and killed by the predators that followed the herd.
Ever since the colonists joined in the hunt, the number of bison hunted each year had increased to fifty to sixty thousand …
Before the colonial war broke out, several towns in the Balingana colony relied on hunting bison as their main source of income. Leather products, horn crafts and bison jerky were the specialties of these towns and were very popular among the kingdom's local merchants.
After the war broke out, apart from a few daring hunters who formed teams to hunt for buffalo, most of the young adults in the colonies were recruited into the two overseas corps. There was no way for them to organize a large-scale buffalo hunt.
Coupled with Misierqi's order to fortify the defenses and clear the wilderness, it had been a few years since the hunting stopped.
Last year, Ranger had to rest and reorganize before being notified to return to Nubissia. Next, they had to build five strengthened folk and everyone was incredibly busy.
After most of the unqualified soldiers from the two corps were disbanded, some of them organized themselves to resume hunting buffalos. However, they ran into Canas light cavalry on the Albatol Plains in Balingana. Many of them were killed or injured and they fled in a panic.
Moriad reported that from the Canas light cavalry they captured, they found out that the Canas light cavalry sent a folk to hunt buffalos on the Albatol Plains last year. They killed more than thirty thousand buffalos and earned around seventy to eighty thousand crowns.
That was why they wanted to earn some extra money this year, so they sent these scouts deep into Balingana to select hunting grounds and camping sites in advance.
"General, I think we can take them out," Berklin pleaded.
"They've been hiding in their defensive positions in Vebator all this while. Now that they're willing to come out of their shell to earn some extra cash, we can't let this chance slip by."
Claude chuckled. "Thundercrash has just been formed and trained for half a year. Do you have the confidence to take down Canas' light cavalry?"
Berklin, Moriad, and the other high-ranking officers of the divisions all stood up together. "Reporting to General, we are confident."
Claude nodded. "Alright, I understand. Go back and wait for further notice.
You've just returned from patrol. Rest well for a few days and let the soldiers recover. "
"Yes, Sir." The officers saluted and prepared to leave.
"Moriad, stay here for a moment," Claude said.
"Boss, what's the matter?" Moriad went back to addressing Claude as his elder.
Claude stroked his chin and asked, "That old classmate of mine, the major who asked you to help him lose weight, how's he doing?"
"Umm …" Moriad hesitated. "Sorry, Boss. I wasn't able to fulfill your request. He hasn't lost fifty kilograms yet."
"Huh?"
Claude was stunned. How was it possible that Borkal hadn't lost fifty kilograms of fat in half a year?
Claude knew about the daily training regimen. "What's going on?"
"It's like this, Boss. He's only lost eighty kilograms.
It's not that we didn't try our best to help him lose weight, but he's too good at eating. He can eat three to four people's portions.
If he was a soldier, we might be able to force him to eat less.
But he's a major and enjoys the benefits of a colonel. We can't make him stop.
Sometimes, I force him to do a lot of physical training, but he'll eat back all his sweat in one night. "
Moriad was troubled. "When I first came, I even helped him lose ninety kilograms. I thought I'd be able to fulfill your request and lose fifty kilograms if I worked a little harder.
But in the end, he became familiar with the folk and found out that his rank as a major was enough for him to enjoy the benefits of a colonel. So, he started to eat and drink to his heart's content.
For example, I had him participate in a long-distance patrol this time because I thought he'd be able to lose some weight after the long journey. In the end, he didn't lose any weight at all. Instead, his steeds lost forty to fifty kilograms each. "
Claude didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So, Borkal came to Thundercrash to eat and drink for free. All he could do was wave his hand. "Forget it. Since he can't lose any weight, he won't. Bring him here. I have something important for him to do."
Moriad breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that he didn't have to help Borkal lose weight.
But when he heard that Claude had something important for the fatty to do, he wasn't too happy about it. "Boss, what can that fatty do apart from eating?
You should leave it to me. "
Claude shook his head. "You won't be able to do it. Instead, your life will be in danger.
Only someone of his size and his ability to eat can do this. "