Section 274, by-products (Page 1/1)

Mickey wore thick leather gloves on his hands, his strong hands gripping the handles of the iron tongs, his eyes intently looking at the tongs, the steaming liquid crimson of the pot.

"Drink." Mickey's head was bruised, he was originally a blacksmith, and the most skilled blacksmith in the whole of Greenton, but now he helped make the glass according to Bruce's orders.

"Goo." The bubbling liquid glass, as the tongs were poured, flowed into an iron mold.

"Sting~~." The water used to cool under the mold boiled, the white mist rose, and the entire workshop seemed to be filled with a summer morning.

"How's it going, did it work?" Bruce looked a little haggard, and after mobilizing the manpower of the entire territory to build this glass factory, he almost lived in the workshop, experimenting with the manufacture of glass, and for this purpose, he also brought in Mickey, who had experience in casting.

"Ahem, please wait a minute, Lord Baron." Mickey fanned his hand as he tried to look over, and as the mold cooled down, they saw a piece of glass appear in front of them.

"Success?" Marcus blurted out incredulously on the side, isn't this translucent thing priceless glass?

"Wait." Bruce stepped forward and took out the glass that had been completely cooled, this small piece of glass had to attack ten processes, and there was no way to recover the failed glass like gold and silver.

"Goo." Mickey couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva, his face was covered with soot and soot, of course, Bruce and the others were the same, two or three failures were nothing, the problem was that they had failed twenty times.

"Damn it." Bruce couldn't help but scold, he saw that this so-called glass was not the crystal clear thing in his impression at all, but more like glass, which contained many bubbles, and the surface was extremely rough and rough.

"Lord Baron." Seeing that Bruce raised the glass in his hand and was about to slam it to the ground, Marcus hurriedly stepped forward to stop him.

"It's a failure." Bruce said huffingly.

"Wait, it doesn't seem to me to be a failure." Marcus played with the glass in his hand repeatedly, and when Greenton's glass was fired, it always had a peculiar grayish-blue color, probably due to a certain mineral contained in the sand of the Greenton River.

"There is no failure, the bubbles in here can be seen with the naked eye." Bruce frowned and said to Marcus.

"Yes, but this bubble will give people infinite reverie." Marcus smiled, lifted the glass in his hand, and said to the light.

"But, but the appearance is too frizzy, and it is easy to hurt your hands." Bruce was stunned for a moment when he heard Marcus's words, and he hesitated for a moment to continue.

"It doesn't matter, just let the apprentices polish it smooth." Marcus shrugged his shoulders, it wasn't a big deal to him.

"Oh, that makes sense." Marcus's words made Bruce suddenly realize that he had been using an established idea to make the so-called glass, but all the glasses made were gray-blue glass, and in a fit of anger, Bruce regarded these things as failures, and Marcus's words made him feel that he had mistaken the direction.

"Marcus, can you make beautiful artwork out of this glass?" Bruce asked hurriedly.

"Yes, of course." Marcus nodded, and when he saw these glasses with a distinctive gray-blue color, the artistic cells of his whole body began to be activated, and a desire to create surged in his body.

"Whew." Mickey breathed a sigh of relief, he was drenched in sweat, he had had enough of experimenting with glass, he finally didn't have to continue to suffer this torture, which made him nostalgic for life in the Legion.

While Bruce was fully immersed in glassmaking, the Duke of Bemessy gave away his first card against the Inquisition, a beautiful and intelligent mistress, whom he wanted to use to win the heart of the silver-haired Roderick, in order to blackmail the Inquisition into returning to the Holy City.

"Bell, bell, bell~~~." The ringing of church bells urges people to pray and pray on time in order to be freed from their original sins and favored by the Lord God in order to be saved.

"Lord God, please forgive us lost souls." The silver-haired Roderick reverently knelt in front of the altar, he was like an ordinary clergyman, the deacons in the church stood quietly aside, they held the Holy Communion, Holy Blood and Holy Water in their hands, and every worshipper would stand up after the prayer service and line up in front of the silver-haired Roderick.

"May the Lord God bless you." The silver-haired Roderick was amiable, and he put a small piece of bread into the mouth of the prayer person as a communion, took another glass of red wine, let the person take a sip, and carefully wiped the rim of the cup with a soft fine linen cloth, and then dipped his finger in the holy water and flicked it on the top of the prayer person's head.

"Thank you, Father." The prator knelt down gratefully, and a hand touched the tip of the silver-haired Roderick's toe.

The silver-haired Roderick took the trouble to do the rituals, and he made every movement very well, and there was no impatience, whether it was the rich and the noble, or the poor in the hood, whether it was a woman or an old man.

"Thank you, Father." At that moment, a woman with a gray hood followed the party to the silver-haired Roderick, with eyes as bright as a cow, long flickering eyelashes, a straight nose, small lips, and skin as white as milk, and she raised her little face and stood on tiptoe.

"Bless you." The silver-haired Roderick glanced at the woman in front of him, this is a soft and lovely woman, especially under the altar, the light above her head sprinkled on her body, as if she was a holy goddess, he took the hand of the bread and hesitated, but the years of penance made him quickly come back to his senses and put the bread in the woman's mouth.

The woman took a sip of the wine in the silver glass, and the silver-haired Roderick wiped the rim of the glass, flicking some holy water on her face with his fingers, and the woman closed her eyes slightly, as if she was feeling the cool water with all her heart.

"Bless you." The silver-haired Roderick hurriedly said to her.

"Thank you, Father." The woman did not kneel down and touch the tips of the silver-haired Roderick's toes, but held Roderick's hand that he wanted to retract, she excitedly imprinted her lips on the back of Roderick's hand, Roderick only felt a little moist and warm on his skin, he smelled a trace of lavender, and by the time he came back to his senses, the woman had already left.

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