Meanwhile, under Hector's direction, the military workshop ran at an even more relentless pace, day and night.
From afar, the valley that had once been silent now billowed with steam, while the hammering roared like thunder. The expanded military workshop had grown far beyond what it once was.
Three new-style waterwheels stood in a row along the stream. Their enormous wooden wheels turned slowly beneath the force of the current, driving more than a dozen boring machines and forging hammers at once through a complex system of transmission shafts. Fresh stone walls had been built around the workshop, and sentries patrolled vigilantly atop the towers. The craftsmen and apprentices coming and going were dark-faced and hurried, each with a uniform work-number patch sewn to his chest.
As Karl completed his inspection, Hector had already come forward with several foremen. This old craftsman, once in charge of Carnford Castle's Blacksmith Shop, was now the overseer of the entire Northern Territory's military industry. More gray had appeared at his temples, but his eyes remained as sharp as an eagle's.
"My lord, it has been a long time."
"Yes, it has. Show me around, Hector."
Hector led Karl into the largest assembly workshop. "The Flintlock Rifle production line has been fully standardized. Look at this line—from barrel forging and bore drilling to mechanism assembly and test firing, every process has a dedicated worker."
Karl walked slowly along the long tables, inspecting them. Dozens of craftsmen performed their respective duties. Some carefully machined barrels with new deep-hole drilling machines; others polished the springs and flint clamps of the firing mechanisms; still others fitted stocks with buttplates and barrel bands. Their movements were practiced and focused, and hardly anyone looked up to notice Karl's arrival.
"Monthly production has now stabilized at over a thousand rifles."