Release that Witch

Since the experiments with nitroglycerin hadn’t started yet, there was no possibility that he would have access to TNT, so nitrostarch was his most immediate opportunity for making powerful explosives, it also shared the same manufacturing process as nitrocellulose. The finished product had a low sensitivity, and couldn’t be ignited by an open fire, instead, one needed to use a fuse for it to detonate. Furthermore, it was more powerful than TNT and had thus been widely used as a substitute for it during the two world wars.

With highly pure starch, the alchemic apprentices who already knew the manufacturing process for nitrocellulose by heart should also be able to quickly prepare a batch of nitrostarch.

After lunch, just as Roland was planning to go back to his room to take a nap, he suddenly heard someone knocking on his door.

Nine out of ten times it was Anna who would come to find him at this hour. So when he heard the knocking sound, his heartbeat immediately began to dance. Can it be, after falling asleep last time because of her exhausted, she decided to come over at noon?

“Come in.”

However, the door creaked as it was pushed open, and Roland started when he saw Evelyn standing outside.

This… now, isn’t what I’ve been expecting at all. He coughed twice, then showed a reassuring smile as he asked, “What’s the matter?”

Hearing his question, Evelyn entered the room, and walked over to the edge of the table and bowed down in salute, all in all she seemed a bit nervous, “Your Highness, I would like to ask you a question.”

Don’t tell me it is going to be the same question again, ‘Why are you so kind to us witches’? However, in accordance with treating them like comrades, it was important to be as warm as the spring wind, so he smiled and said, “What question do you want to ask?”

“You… why did you want me to come to Border Town?”

For a moment Roland was slightly surprised, can it be that she doesn’t like the taste of the wine?

“My kind of ability isn’t only inferior to Sylvie’s; it is practically at the same level as Lotus and Honey’s,” she whispered. “It’s just wine tasting. However, a monthly salary of one gold royals is already enough for you to hire a specialized Wine Brewer from King’s City.”

“What are your thoughts about those… wines?”

“At first I thought they burned too much, only by slowly drinking them was I able to accept them. As for those three wines mixed with ice cubes, fruit juice, and syrup, their taste is richer. But that is merely my personal opinion,” Evelyn replied cautiously. “My family’s pub only sold cheaply-priced wines and diluted ales, the aristocracy’s tendencies …I do not know anything about that.”

As it turns out she isn’t questioning the wine, the Prince breathed out in relief. He got up and opened the bookcase, then took out a jar of ale from the top and put it in front of Evelyn with the question, “Can you turn this jar of ale into the wine I brewed?”

“I think… that shouldn’t be a problem.” She stretched out her hand, and held it above the jar, a moment later the yellow ale began to change. In the wake of the rising bubbles, the ale became more and more clear, until it finally turned as crystal clear as plain boiled water; yet Roland could already smell its strong alcoholic fragrance. Unable to stop himself, he dipped his finger in a little, then put it into his mouth. It tasted bitter and burning at the same time, this was the taste of highly purified alcohol.

Roland couldn’t help but begin to laugh, while saying, “That’s the reason I picked you.”

Looking at the puzzled Evelyn, he patted her hand and explained, “I’m going to set up an alcohol factory… No, a brewery. Would you like to be the chief winemaker?”

Chapter 302 The Bugle Horn of the Decisive Battle

At the palace in the Kingdom of Eternal Winter, flames were raging within the fireplace.

Compared to Graycastle with its four seasons, here the summers were especially short, and the autumn was only like an advance notice for the impending arrival of a severe winter. There wasn’t even enough time to change into shorter garments before the cold wind came back once again.

Garcia Wimbledon, sat on the throne with a fox fur coat draped over her shoulders, listening to the complaints and demands of the nobility.

She didn’t like the palace. The pillars, walls, and floors were all built out of snow white stones, each piece polished until it was smooth and shining, just like ice in general. Despite the fact that she already had two additional layers of cushion on her seat, she could still feel the bitter chill of the cold iron chair.