Tyranny Of Steel Chapter 3: Introducing New Technology

Berengar pressed on with his workout routine for a while longer, pausing briefly to catch his breath whenever his heart pounded too fiercely. Completely devoid of modern gym tools, the towering yet frightfully emaciated youth had to rely on ancient training methods. His regimen echoed the U.S. Army's PT standards, though toned down to levels his fragile form and ailing heart could endure.

While battling through a grueling ordeal that taxed his current weakened shell to its limits, Berengar swore that once he gained the strength, he would sketch designs for free weights, kettlebells, and a bench press. These he would pass to the town smith, probing the possibility of forging them. After all, this era's technological level fell woefully short of true advancement in his eyes.

From a lofty tower overlooking the Castle's courtyard, Lambert observed his frail elder brother laboring to better himself. A deep scowl twisted his features as his cruel gaze bored into the scene with venomous intensity. This unexpected drive for self-betterment boded ill for his schemes. Fury eclipsed even his astonishment.

Berengar was supposed to be lying dead—the venom Lambert deployed could fell a warhorse—yet miraculously, he stood tall, vigor renewed. Every cunning plot had crumbled to nothing. The debts racked up for slaying his older sibling hung unpaid, and without claiming his father's title as heir, repayment seemed impossible, spelling doom for his ambitions.

Still, trying poison once more would inevitably spark suspicion from others, a risk he dared not take. For Lambert to inherit his father's position and chase his dreams, a fresh murder scheme was essential.

...

An hour later, Berengar could exercise no further. His immediate task became bathing anew to scrub away the sweat and filth gathered from his session. The servants puzzled over his wish to wash twice daily yet carried out his command without question.

Once clean again, Berengar headed back to his chamber, settled at his desk, drew forth a sheet of parchment, and set to drafting plans for the initial industrial breakthroughs he envisioned.

Though his influence in his father's domain remained scant, Berengar believed he could at least persuade his sire to adopt such innovations. Should his father query the blueprints' origin, he'd claim they came from a distant eastern trader. Similar devices likely existed in China at this epoch, after all. The sooner the Barony mass-produced steel, the swifter his grand designs could unfold.

Nestled within the Duchy of Austria, the Barony of Kufstein boasted encircling mountains and a mighty Danube tributary carving fertile valleys through its heart. This very topography allowed the von Kufsteins to safeguard their resource-laden territory. Absent the natural fortress shielding the valley's inhabitants, mightier Imperial clans would doubtless covet and conquer it.

Eventually, Berengar completed the schematics for a pivotal steel-making device. Without it, the Industrial Revolution of his former life's history would never have ignited. In that bygone era, it bore the name "Bessemer Converter" or "Bessemer Process." This method yielded 3-5 tons of steel in just 20 minutes.

By oxidizing impurities from the iron, the Bessemer process operated at its core. Air blasted through the molten mass accomplished this feat. Lining the converter's insides with dolomite or limestone boosted slag output—a byproduct perfect as inexpensive phosphate fertilizer. Hence, the invention propelled not just industry but farming too.

A late medieval forge could craft every component, with horse or waterwheel providing the power. Naturally, future upgrades could harness steam engines as progress marched on. That lay far off, however; an initial prototype was urgent now. High-grade steel remained scarce luxury; unleashing the Bessemer process opened endless possibilities, its applications boundless.

In the end, Berengar knew he'd need a Blast Furnace to turn iron ore into pig iron, which could then become steel via the Bessemer process. Even so, in these times, the Blast Furnace ought to exist already. He figured a prosperous area like Kufstein likely had one nearby. Should it be missing, he'd persuade his father to construct it together with the Bessemer Converter. Just to be safe, he sketched another blueprint set for the Blast Furnace in case Kufstein lacked one.

Once his blueprints were complete and dried, Berengar gathered the parchment sheets and clutched them securely while heading to his father's study. The sun dipped toward the horizon as he rapped on the solid oak doors. Moments later, his father's resonant voice responded from within.

"Come in"

Berengar drew in a deep breath, let it out steadily, then stepped into his father's study. A massive desk dominated the space, with his father seated behind it, buried in documents. Bookshelves lined the walls, stocked mainly with volumes essential for overseeing the domain's operations.

The desk held a modest oil lamp, its glow chasing away the fading light and brightly lighting the Baron's writing surface. Sieghard kept his eyes glued to his papers, not sparing a glance for his son.

"This better be important..."

Berengar cleared his throat before offering up the documents he'd labored over that afternoon.

"I'd like you to take a look at these. They're crucial for steel production in our lands."

Sieghard halted at his son's words, setting his quill aside on the desk. He fixed Berengar with a piercing stare, as if doubting the documents' worth his time. Still, he snatched them up, scanned them repeatedly, then set them down with a heavy sigh.

"What exactly am I looking at here?"

Sieghard excelled as a capable administrator and famed fighter, yet engineering escaped him. Thus, the blueprints demanded some clarification.

Berengar swallowed the lump in his throat and launched into an enthusiastic explanation of the invention's wonders for his father.

"Father, this device will let us churn out huge quantities of top-grade steel in just 20 minutes. Plus, its waste product serves as prime fertilizer to boost farm yields."

Shock flashed over Sieghard's features as he reviewed the blueprints again. Though the details eluded him, Berengar's promises sounded irresistible. Then a doubt struck him, and he voiced it aloud.

"Where did you acquire this?"

Berengar had anticipated the query and promptly wove a tale about meeting a merchant from distant eastern lands who swapped the blueprints for a modest sum. His father remained wary, but tales of eastern sophistication rang true enough for him to greenlight Berengar's idea.

"Alright, tomorrow I'll call the region's top engineer. If he verifies this tech's validity, I'll roll it out as fast as possible."

A grin lit Berengar's face as he bowed politely to his father; things had exceeded his expectations.

"Thank you for hearing my request, father."

With those words, Sieghard resumed his paperwork, quill in hand.

"If that's all, you're dismissed."

Berengar offered another bow to the noble Baron before slipping out, his face beaming with triumph. Bringing in the Bessemer process and Blast Furnace marked only the start of his modernization scheme. Next up: the four-field system and simple irrigation. Those wouldn't pass as merchant trades, so he'd need field visits and chats with the common folk.

But such schemes lay ahead; right now, rest called to him. His muscles throbbed from the grueling morning workout, with tougher trials looming. After grabbing a quick bite in the kitchen, Berengar retreated to his chamber. Soon, sleep claimed him deeply, filled with visions of his former life, present one, and all the twists in between.