Rose had forgotten how much muscles could hurt when exercised after a long period of inactivity. Far too accustomed to the strength of his original body, he now felt as though this new physique worked against him, with lactic acid burning through every muscle fiber with an irritating intensity. It was a genuine miracle that his heart hadn't collapsed under the punishment he had put it through.
Even so, he persevered. The task was incredibly difficult for a body so fragile compared to the one he'd possessed in his past life, but he swore to himself that no matter how long it took or how much pain he had to endure, he would regain his former physical condition. Of course, at some point he would need some kind of training equipment—perhaps a few rudimentary weights—but that could wait. For now, the priority was taking the first steps in his plan to bring peace back to this world.
Meanwhile, Lambert watched him from the tower overlooking the castle courtyard. He couldn't understand how his older brother—until recently weak and sickly—kept pushing himself like that, striving to break past his limits as if it were completely natural for him. His furrowed brow and narrowed eyes conveyed a threat which, in reality, Rose would have found almost adorable had he seen it up close. After all, he had faced far more terrifying people and creatures than a child desperate to appear imposing.
Returning to Lambert himself, Rose's sudden change in behavior did not bode well for his plans. However, more than irritated, he was profoundly incredulous. His brother should have been dead; the poison he had used was potent enough to bring down a war horse. And yet, not only had he survived, he now seemed healthier and more mentally stable than before.
In short, all the schemes and favors Lambert had mobilized to get rid of his brother had proven useless. The debts he had incurred could not be repaid without first securing his position as heir, and if he failed to alter the current situation, his future would be bleak. Nonetheless, resorting to poison again would raise suspicion—something he absolutely could not allow. If he wished to succeed his father and pursue his ambitions, he had to prevent anyone from discovering that he had attempted to murder his own brother.
Finally, an hour later, Rose finished his exercise routine. His first order was to return to the bath to wash off the sweat and grime accumulated during training. The servants, of course, looked at him with bewilderment; it was unusual for him to want to bathe twice in a single day. Even so, they obeyed his orders without questioning them too much.
Once clean and refreshed again, he returned to his room and sat at his desk. He took a piece of parchment and began drafting some of the first schematics for the machines he planned to use to improve the quality of life in this world.
He didn't have particularly deep knowledge of these lands, nor the authority to implement anything on his own, but he was exceptionally intelligent. Moreover, as a son blessed by Hades, he had always been a good negotiator. He was confident he could persuade his father to adopt some of these new technologies.
And if anyone asked where he had gotten such ideas, he could always rely on the old, trustworthy excuse of the caravan of merchants from the Far East. After all, he couldn't very well say that Lucifer had directly implanted all the necessary knowledge into his mind. Besides, he was aware that similar technologies had already existed in China for at least a few decades—perhaps around fifty years, though he couldn't quite remember the exact date.
But in any case, the essential thing was to begin producing steel in mass as soon as possible. The vast majority of his plans required it, both for the war industry and for the technologies meant to improve his people's quality of life.
He was certain that Kufstein possessed the necessary resources. The Duchy of Austria was surrounded by mountains, and several tributaries of the Danube cut through its valleys, creating fertile lands and a strategic environment. Thanks to this geographical layout, his father could maintain control over the ore mines: the mountains, rich in iron, also served as a formidable natural defense. If not for that natural barrier, the most powerful noble families of the Empire would have seized the territory many years ago.
Because he had been thinking about this, the truth was he only needed to focus on anything else. His father had always said he had a talent for putting ideas on paper… so long as he didn't think about them. In other words, if he let his subconscious mind work on a task, the result would be the best possible. For that reason, he decided to concentrate on any random nonsense to keep his conscious mind busy elsewhere.
The result was satisfactory. Before him now lay the schematics for what would undoubtedly be one of the most important inventions among all those he planned to introduce. With this, he could begin his own industrial revolution: the Bessemer converter—or, more precisely, the furnace used in the Bessemer purification process. He wasn't a materials engineer, so he wasn't completely sure of the proper term. What he did know was that this process allowed the production of three to five tons of steel in just twenty minutes.
To simplify it as much as possible—and because he would eventually need to explain it to his father—the process worked by removing the impurities from the iron before adding the carbon through oxidation. To achieve that, a current of air was blown directly over the molten metal. The interior of the furnace needed to be lined with dolomite or limestone, and as an added benefit, the resulting slag could be used as a phosphate-rich fertilizer.
In other words, he gained two simultaneous advantages: steel in large quantities and the ability to improve both the quality and the yield of crops.
He was at least ninety percent certain that all the necessary components already existed at this time. In addition, horses and water wheels could provide the force needed to power the machinery.
Of course, he was fully aware that he would have to improve the technology over time, perhaps integrate it with a steam engine at some point. But that could wait a few years. For now, this was more than enough: it would allow the production of high-quality steel, and in this era even mediocre steel was a scarce and extremely valuable resource.
If things went his way, he could monopolize—or at least control—a considerable portion of the steel industry. He knew it wasn't the most moral decision, but his father had always taught him that "to achieve peace, you must monopolize war." He wasn't entirely sure of the exact meaning of that phrase, but his interpretation was simple: if he controlled the resources most important for war, then he could control the war itself.
Ultimately, Rose would need a blast furnace to turn the iron ore into pig iron, which would then be transformed into steel through the Bessemer process. Although, in theory, a blast furnace should already be in operation, considering this was a mineral-rich region. It made sense for Kufstein to have one within the city; if that wasn't the case, he would simply convince his father that they needed one for the converter to function properly. Thinking about it, he decided it would be wise to prepare a second set of schematics, just in case the barony lacked such a structure.
After a couple of hours, he finally completed both sets of plans and, once he had allowed them to dry long enough, gathered the parchments and rolled them up carefully. He then headed toward his father's study. Only then did he realize that the sun was already beginning to set, which prompted him to quicken his pace. Upon arriving, he knocked firmly on the sturdy oak doors. Shortly after, he heard his father's deep voice.
"Come in."
Rose took a deep breath to calm his nerves, gathered his courage, and stepped into the study. Inside, he noticed the large wooden desk where Sieghard was working, reviewing several sheets of parchment. He also took note of the small library filled with what were undoubtedly the account books used to manage the territory. Mentally, he wondered if he could read them later to find ways to use that information in his own plans.
An oil lamp illuminated the desk, casting a warm light across the room, which grew darker with each passing minute. More importantly, Sieghard was writing on a parchment without bothering to raise his gaze toward his son, completely absorbed in his work.
"This had better be important…"
Rose couldn't help rolling his eyes, remembering that in his true home his father would have given him immediate attention simply because he was his son. Even so, he let out a sigh and handed Sieghard both sets of documents he had worked on for most of the afternoon.
"I'd like you to take a look at these. From what I could understand, these are the machines used by the easterners for steel production, and we could implement them in our realm if they really work."
Sieghard paused upon hearing his son's request, set his quill down on the desk, and looked at him with a clearly questioning expression—as though wondering whether it was worth wasting time reviewing the documents. Even so, he took them and examined them a couple of times before setting them aside with a heavy sigh. He wasn't an engineer, and what he saw was utterly incomprehensible to him.
"What exactly am I looking at here?" he finally asked. In his own judgment, he was an excellent statesman and a warrior without equal, but—as he had often said—he was no engineer. All his eyes could distinguish were lines, measurements, and annotations he could barely understand.
Rose had to swallow the saliva gathered in his mouth before beginning his explanation as best he could. Damn it, he was the prince of the greatest empire humanity had ever known; he had no reason to feel nervous in front of a mere mortal.
"Father, with this device," he said, trying to keep his composure, "at least according to what I understand, we'll be able to produce large quantities of high-quality steel in a short time. Additionally, as a bonus, we'll obtain fertilizer that could improve the productivity of our fields."
Damn his lack of eloquence. That had undoubtedly been one of the poorest explanations he had ever given, and he'd had several opportunities to explain things badly in his life.
Sieghard's expression slowly shifted into one of astonishment as he reviewed the schematics again. Though he didn't fully understand what he was looking at, the mere prospect his son described was too promising to ignore. However, the most important question still remained.
"Where did you get this?"
Rose had anticipated the question and simply explained that, before falling ill, he had visited a small caravan of merchants from the Far East, with whom he had exchanged the schematics for a bit of silver.
His father raised an eyebrow at that information. He had heard of the level of development in the eastern lands, and given that precedent, he decided to act according to his son's request. After all, he lost nothing by having his engineers review the plans.
"Very well. Tomorrow I'll summon my engineers. If they can confirm that these designs are legitimate, I will implement them as soon as possible."
Rose offered him a small smile and bowed respectfully. In truth, everything had gone far better than he expected.
"Thank you very much for listening to me, Father."
"If that's all, then you may leave," Sieghard said before picking up his quill again and returning his attention to his work.
With his task fulfilled, Rose bowed once more to the proud baron and left the study with a broad smile. Everything had gone perfectly, and he was certain the engineer would be able to confirm the viability of his plans. It would only be a matter of time before he began bringing peace to this world and ushered in the Sixth Era in an empire as prosperous and idyllic as the one his true father had once ruled.
Meanwhile, his next objective would be to implement a better farming system and an improved irrigation system. That, of course, wasn't something he could explain with a flimsy excuse like the caravan of merchants; however, he could always claim he had reached those conclusions after a period of study. Naturally, he would also have to work directly with the farmers and convince them to adopt the new methods.
But those were plans for the near future. For now, all he wanted was to rest. His body ached intensely after the exercise, and spending more than three hours seated in a rigid wooden chair drafting the schematics certainly hadn't helped.
Even so, after stopping by the kitchen for a small snack, he returned to his room. And before he realized it, he fell completely asleep, convinced he was doing the right thing. Of course, it never occurred to him that he was interpreting the entire situation from a perspective very different from his father's.
End of Chapter.