Our Family Has Fallen

The firing range was bustling, as today’s testing requirements necessitated the direct involvement of two artillery squads to assist with the firing trials.

Meanwhile, Eugene led the researchers in collecting data on range and power, comparing the effects of different types of Bombs, and then recording the results.

All this data would be used for further improvements and to establish the cannon’s capabilities.

There’s a significant risk with untested artillery because hidden damage can’t be seen, so they stacked sandbags filled with dirt into an arc shape around the cannon.

The artillerymen operated from within, and after each procedure was complete, everyone had to move away from the cannon, then it was time to light the fuse and fire.

The live-fire testing would start with a small charge of gunpowder to detonate and then incrementally increase the amount of gunpowder, continuing until it equaled the weight of the Bomb! Only those cannons that survived these tests without any cracks or explosions were deemed acceptable.

Lance looked around and noticed someone among the gunners who seemed vaguely familiar.

”Bonaparte? What is he doing here?”

Lance’s remark also aroused some curiosity in Barton nearby.

”You’ve heard of him too, Lord?”

”Heard of him?” Lance seemed to sense something and asked curiously, ”Tell me, how did this guy join the artillery?”

Barton sensed something was off but still explained.

The man named Bonaparte was mediocre during the new recruit assessment, even fairly short and slim, making it difficult to pass. But he was very intelligent, learned quickly, and demonstrated an exceptional talent in trajectory calculation for the artillery.

His talent became apparent the moment he touched the artillery, and so Barton discovered him and specially recruited him into the artillery.

”He claimed he was a farmer before and had never touched a cannon; if he wasn’t lying, then he’s a natural-born artilleryman!”

It was Lance’s first time hearing Barton speak so highly of a soldier. It seemed the unteachable ones had been quite frustrating for him in the past.

”The lad is indeed smart. Previously…” Lance then briefly recounted Bonaparte’s previous feat of exposing the Heretics and then courageously tracking them alone.

Barton was quite pleased with that, but soon they came to the topic of Bonaparte using the military as a stepping stone, which immediately triggered his alertness.

Barton knew how much the Lord valued the military. It wasn’t just the Lord who would disapprove; even Barton himself felt somewhat repelled by such blatant words.

”Do you need me to...” Barton hesitated briefly, then couldn’t help but speak after a moment’s thought.

”No need, treat him as you would anyone else. My Hamlet is large enough to accommodate him, isn’t it?”

Lance obviously understood Barton’s intention, which was simply to look for a chance to marginalize or kick him out.

But Lance didn’t really care. His tolerance wasn’t so thin as to be disturbed by one man’s modest ambitions.

Barton breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this, knowing that the Lord didn’t speak in riddles, implying that things were indeed going to proceed as normal.

To be honest, Barton’s inclination to suppress or even sideline Bonaparte looked very much like trying to curry favor with Lance through the use of power.

But only someone who had been through it, like himself, understood that this was a form of protection for Bonaparte, for if he truly incurred the Lord’s ire, the consequences would be far worse, to the extent that Hamlet might not have a place for him.

It was better for him to take the initiative in suppressing Bonaparte now and wait to see how things would unfold later.

He himself had come from Totnes Outskirts Farm and possessed an Innate Talent for artillery. Bonaparte reminded him of his own younger days, so his admiration was natural.

He also didn’t want Bonaparte to get into trouble, as he had grown up amidst the hostility of the Nobility and would not be where he was today without the Sanctuary his mentors had offered.

Lance’s attitude only highlighted the contrast even more, making the Lord’s broad-mindedness strikingly different from that of the Totnes Nobility.

”And what about those horses?”

Lance intentionally shifted the topic, looking toward the horses near the range.

”These horses will be used on the battlefield, so we’re starting with desensitization training to gradually get them accustomed to the sound of gunfire. There’s a process to it. You start by stuffing something in the horse’s ears and gradually reduce it until they’re completely adapted.

”Plus, horses are herd animals. If you control the lead horse, you can control the others. Although this trait is less pronounced in domesticated horses, it still exists. So, placing a few trained horses that won’t panic among them speeds up the process.

”Furthermore, familiar soldiers can soothe them...”

BOOM!

Before Barton could finish, a sudden loud explosion came from the other side, accompanied by billowing smoke.

Lance and Barton instinctively looked over to find that one of the cannons had burst during the recent firing, its power splitting the barrel in two and smashing the carriage to pieces.

If anyone had been standing nearby, the outcome would have been disastrous, but fortunately, the preparations were thorough, and the semi-circular dirt mound around the cannon contained the blast.

Seeing that neither the artillerymen nor the testing personnel seemed too surprised, they quickly began to deal with the aftermath. Even the horses, after a few days of training, appeared calm.

”Another failure...” Lance frowned upon seeing the burst cannon.

Though the wasted material could be recast, the time and craftsmanship lost amounted to more than a dozen Gold Coins down the drain.

The Gold Coins didn’t matter so much, the manpower could be managed, but what Hamlet truly lacked now was time.