CHAPTER 134: CHAPTER 132 THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER WAS CHAPTER 131!

At the entrance of the workshop, a mottled wooden sign, barely legible, read "XX Workshop".

Horn could smell the intense scent of lime and stone in the air even before entering the workshop.

Climbing the stone steps and pushing open the iron-edged dull wooden door, a large courtyard was hidden behind grapevines.

The stonemasons were busy in the bright morning light, wearing aprons covered in dust and dirt, their faces smudged with dirt, their hands grimed with mud.

A few stonemason apprentices sat in front of a table, constructing a miniature church using sticks and lime mortar.

At the center of the workshop was a foot-operated stone grinder, where two laborers struggled to pedal, helping a sturdy stonemason apprentice polish stones into architectural components.

"Mr. Casti." A stonemason, appearing to be the agent, walked over, "The master told me to say he’s not here if you come."

"Cough cough cough..." Casti coughed violently a couple of times, "Alright, let those four stonemason apprentices come over."

Casti gave Horn an apologetic smile: "Though they are apprentices, I guarantee each one of them meets the standard level, they just lack experience."

With a clap from the agent, four stonemason apprentices gathered around, looking at Horn with curiosity and anticipation.

Judging by their expressions, Horn realized that Casti and the stonemason master probably hadn’t told the apprentices where they were going.

Otherwise, how could they have such expectant expressions?

Horn didn’t waste words; he had previously familiarized himself with the stonemason system and straightforwardly gave them two test questions.

The first question was to calculate the building’s façade from its floor plan, which is a fundamental skill for stonemasons.

The Empire’s stonemasons do not design through mechanical deduction but through countless accumulated patterns, components, and proportional formulas.

So normally, as long as they’re given a floor plan, they can figure out a rough estimate of the façade, material consumption, and labor hours.

But if you ask them to widen a corridor by one fathom, they can only answer: impossible.

The second question was Horn’s personal task, "What should be the weight and number of the voussoirs to ensure the stability of the arch?"

Maybe someone with a sharp mind like Sessi could emerge from this.

Given these two test questions, the stonemason apprentices began to work on them.

The sun gradually rose higher, and Horn and Casti, with nothing to do, simply started chatting idly.

"Has the first group of displaced people for river clearing arrived?"

"They arrived before dawn this morning." Casti took a sip of sweet grape wine from a flask he pulled from his pocket, "Your methods are impressive, sir."

"I’m only managing ten thousand people, while you have to manage fifty thousand."

"No, no, no, I’m merely a humble city servant, only doing a bit of trivial work." Casti sat on the stone table, "Most of the time, this Joan of Arc Castle can run itself."

Horn skipped over this topic and continued asking: "Is the money for clearing the river provided by the merchants?"

"Yes, with the river blocked, only small boats can pass. Some merchants need quick turnovers, so their willingness to fund is much stronger than usual."

"Without you, Casti, how could they have paid so quickly?"

"Hahaha, you’re joking, you’re the one who..."

Amidst their continuous mutual flattery, the four apprentices completed Horn’s test questions one after another.

Unfortunately, in this round of interviews, Horn did not encounter any talents like Sessi.

They did well on the first question, but the answers to the second question were all over the place.

Someone even suggested using rice syrup to glue the voussoirs together.

Among them, Horn picked the most reliable one, a stonemason apprentice named Roger, pointing at his test, "Him, then!"

The other three stonemason apprentices left dejectedly, while the agent went to prepare the contract.

At this moment, a formal stonemason ran out from a small building nearby and began examining the test question intently.

After a long look, he frowned and said, "This couldn’t possibly be calculated directly on paper, could it?"

According to his understanding, one should build a model arch using sticks and stone based on the situation, and then test each piece proportionately.

"How can this determine the skill level of a stonemason?" murmured an unknown stonemason apprentice, "It’s too arbitrary, simply unfair."

The stonemason handed the test question to other stonemasons, and the formal stonemasons were running in and out of the small building.

A moment later, the agent, with a difficult expression, silently approached: "Lord Casti, could your guest please write down the answer? Otherwise, Master Boss might refuse, claiming you are insulting and mocking him... You know his temperament..."

Casti looked at Horn with difficulty.

Horn didn’t say anything; he pulled out a piece of paper and casually drew a wedge-shaped stone arch.

Drawing a point at the geometric center of the wedge-shaped stone component, Horn used a ruler to compose the third equal unidirectional stress along the diagonal into two combined stresses on adjoining sides of a parallelogram.

Finally, he listed the formula for the calculation. Since he didn’t know the specific data, he didn’t perform the calculation but handed the drawing over to the stonemasons.

After circulating among the stonemasons, the drawing was passed into the small building next door, and then there was silence.

"Quick, bring the contract here." Casti, fearing complications that come with delays, urgently urged the agent to conclude swiftly.

The agent brought over the parchment contract and spread it out on the table.

"The stonemason apprentice’s weekly salary is 5 Dinar, for ten years.

If during this period, the stonemason apprentice designs and completes a building independently recognized by the Stonemason Guild, they can be promoted to a stonemason master.

Then you’ll need to raise the salary, but you can’t offer more than 20 Dinar per week, which seriously violates Guild regulations. Do you understand?"

Before signing the Stonemason Guild’s contract, these matters must be communicated in advance; failing to comply can even lead the Guild to annul the contract.

"Understood."

The somewhat dull stonemason apprentice, Horn, and the workshop agent each signed their names on the tripartite agreement.

Casti, as the notary, also stamped his seal and signed his name.

Leaving behind the lime-scented workshop, they stepped out onto the street.

Horn took out his notebook and wrote Roger’s name after the stonemason’s.

That leaves only the engineer now.

Looking up at the sky, judging by the current height of the sun, it seemed to be around nine or ten o’clock.

"Having come to Joan of Arc Castle with difficulty, would you like to explore around?" Casti asked with a smile.

"Let’s take a stroll then, just in time for lunch."

Joan of Arc Castle is one of the larger cities in the Thousand River Valley, not something a countryside old-timer like Horn could often see.

Soon I’ll be heading to Black Snake Bay, which has been ravaged by battles with monsters, Demon Hunters, the Church, and mercenaries for years, further desolated.

During this period, it’s a rare chance, so Horn seized it for a glimpse of the world.

Walking along the canal and street, to the left is the rippling canal, and to the right are timber-framed houses of varying heights.

Though a town, Joan of Arc Castle isn’t wealthy enough to lay brick-paved surfaces extensively.

Only the two intersecting Duke Streets have brick-paved surfaces.

Except for the port and small docks, the ground remained muddy, with only a narrow plank road wide enough for one person.

The ditch by the roadside is filled with colorful wastewater, staining the edge of the canal a pale gray.

Between houses, weeds and shrubs still grow; men wearing leather aprons have paint-stuffed under their fingernails, while women unreservedly feed infants baring their chests on the main street.

Occasionally, you can spot gallows in the muddy ground.

On it hangs a rotting corpse, with a few crows perched on their shoulders, pecking at strands of meat from their bodies.

"This area is basically where civilians and artisans gather." Casti seemed accustomed to the atmosphere here, "If you’re uncomfortable, I can take you to a tavern in the affluent area. It’s beautiful there; every house is painted white, with neatly arranged sycamore trees..."

"Alright, should we take a carriage?"

Led by Casti, Horn and others made their way back, where the carriage was waiting at the previous corner.

But beside the carriage, there was a servant-like person, rubbing hands, pacing anxiously back and forth.

"Why are you looking for me here?" Clearly Casti’s house servant, he asked directly.

"Master, another boat collided on the river."

"Didn’t you tell anyone to block them with small boats? Can’t they see such big signs? Which fool is it?"

Hearing that yet another part of the river just cleared got smashed, Casti was furious.

"...Master, it’s the Duke himself. At the time, the Duke was on the deck, slipped and fell into the river... just rescued. Luckily, not... Master, master, what’s wrong?"

Grabbing Casti’s chin and waking him up, Horn helped him leap up from the ground.

He didn’t care about anything, grabbed a horse, and rushed into the distance.