The craftsman from the Kingdom soon arrived at the restaurant where Richard was.
The food on the table had already been cleared away, and Richard was spreading out a long scroll on top, rapidly sketching sothing with a quill pen.
Edward, looking puzzled, stood nearby, not daring to interrupt. The craftsman was even less inclined to disturb, obediently keeping his head down without saying a word, only occasionally sneaking glances at the scroll Richard was drawing, feeling that the prince seed to be sketching so kind of machinery. It looked like a windmill but appeared to be more complex...
"Swish, swish, swish..."
After a long while, Richard put down the quill in his hand, glanced at what was drawn on the scroll, nodded slightly, and then turned his head to look at the craftsman who had been waiting for a long ti by his side.
The craftsman looked like a man in his fifties, but he was actually in his forties. Artisans in this world didn't have an easy life; even being employed by the palace was only slightly better than being a serf. The long hours of labor had made him look quite old.
His face was full of wrinkles, his eyes were deeply sunken, and heavy bags dragged underneath them as he gazed nervously.
"You are Hans, right?" Richard asked.
"Uh, g-gulp... Answering the prince, I... I am Hans," the craftsman quickly replied, surprised that the prince could accurately call out his na. His voice carried so astonishnt and... fear. After all, for a small person to be rembered by the prince wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Richard waved his hand directly, saying, "Co over here, take a look at this design I've drawn, see if you can understand it."
"Uh, yes." The craftsman hurriedly stepped closer, looking at the scroll, carefully examining it. He confird his earlier guess and tentatively asked, "This... this seems to be... a windmill, Your Highness?"
"Exactly, it is indeed a windmill, so can you manage to build it? I'll give you no more than five days," Richard said.
"Uh, this..." The craftsman hesitated for a mont, looking at the design, estimating the workload, uncertainly replying, "I think I should be able to."
"Take a closer look, confirm it before you say anything. If there's anything you don't understand, you can ask now, and I will help you solve it. Don't wait until later to tell there's a problem and that you can't complete it," Richard said.
"Uh, yes, yes," the craftsman said, unable to stop sweat from appearing on his forehead, and looked at the design once again. His eyes twinkled as he suddenly realized that the design wasn't as simple as he had initially thought. At least compared to an ordinary windmill, it had many parts he didn't understand.
He quickly pointed at a part, saying, "Your Highness, this... this part... seems a bit problematic. Normally, windmills are mounted on a single column, so why is this windmill installed like this..."
Richard glanced at it and slowly explained, "This is the Turning Tower."
"Turning Tower?" The craftsman was puzzled.
"Ordinary windmills, indeed, can be installed on pillars. The structure is simple and easy to make. However, the downside is that they cannot always adjust to the wind direction and require manual adjustnt, which is laborious and not very efficient. But according to this design, by mounting the windmill blades on a specialized Turning Tower, the tower can automatically rotate around the central axis to face the wind direction, allowing for the maximum utilization of wind power at all tis," Richard explained.
The craftsman widened his eyes in amazent: "Really... can it really do that? But... but your highness, how does it achieve this, since the wind... does not always co from one direction; it could co from any direction..."
"Because this part is on the Turning Tower." Richard pointed to a part on the design, "Behind the main blade, there's a tail fan perpendicular to it, connected to the gear track on the edge of the Turning Tower. So no matter which direction the wind cos from, as long as it blows over this tail fan, it will propel the Turning Tower to rotate, ensuring that the wind tower's main blade always aligns with the wind direction."
The craftsman scratched his head, still sowhat confused, but at least he understood one thing from Richard's words: The prince was not speaking randomly; he genuinely understood, and he understood more than the craftsman did.
In that case...
The next mont, the craftsman took a deep breath and asked about the next part he didn't understand: "And, Your Highness, what about here..."
"Uh, these two weights extending outward on the lever are the centrifugal governors. You don't need to understand the principle—just know that they can automatically adjust the rotor's speed to suit different wind speeds."
"Uh, okay... and, Your Highness, this rotor..."
"This, ah," Richard waved the quill again, crossing out the corresponding part, "this part is a bit complicated; you don't need to worry about it. I will handle it myself. It's for generating electricity and requires artificial magnets, which you can't make yet."
"Okay, so, Your Highness, this part..."
"This is an improved crankshaft used to transmit energy to drive the rotor. Pay attention here..."
"And here, Your Highness..."
"This is the part for storing current, I'll take care of it; you just need to reserve the relevant section..."
"And what about here..."
...
...
The craftsman and Richard talked for more than an hour, finally clarifying all the details on the design. Wiping the sweat from his face, the craftsman said, "Your Highness, this windmill seems really difficult to make; I'm afraid five days..."
"Then make it one week," Richard said, his voice a bit stern, "but no longer than that, as my ti is limited and cannot be delayed."
"Uh, this..." The craftsman shrunk his neck, afraid to refuse, grit his teeth, and nodded, "Alright, Your Highness, I will definitely have it done in one week."
"Good, that's settled then."
The craftsman took the design and left. In the next mont, just as Edward was about to say sothing, Richard looked at him first and instructed, "Edward, go find so iron filings and so rust powder."
"Uh?" Edward was puzzled, finally asking what he had wanted to say earlier, "Your Highness, what exactly are you trying to do here?"
"You'll know when the ti cos," Richard replied.
"Uh, alright." This answer was not much different than no answer at all; Edward shrugged and left, helplessly.
By the afternoon, the iron filings and rust powder had been delivered to Richard's private laboratory.
...
Afternoon, private laboratory.
The afternoon sun shone in, extrely bright.
Richard looked at the table filled with dozens of pounds of iron filings and rust powder, nodding in satisfaction. Although Edward's swordsmanship was diocre, he did have a talent for handling tasks.
According to Edward, the combined weight of the iron filings and rust powder exceeded 100 pounds. A pound was a unit of mass in the British and Arican systems, equivalent to 0.45359237 kilograms, or 0.9071847 jin. However, as a habit, whenever he heard others ntion this British and Arican unit, Richard automatically converted it into the familiar units in his mind.
One pound was about 0.9 jin, so a little over 100 pounds was 90 jin, which was indeed a lot.
The reason for needing so much iron filings and rust powder was none other than to make the rotor for the windmill.
This was the fundantal, foolproof thod Richard had decided on for generating electric current.
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