"The Empire itself isn't as rich as he is. People call him the Master of Gold. He loves handing out gold coins whenever he sees someone."
"He also studies firearms in private. In the Empire, which wealthy noble doesn't buy a few firearms or study them?"
"But..."
"My younger sister is still too young. The craftsmen she hired weren't very good, so she really did waste her money."
"These were made by the Dwarf Master I hired. Their yield is much better than that bunch of freeloaders in the Imperial Palace."
"And like the ones in the Northern Border, they use cartridges. My Imperial Sister's Stoppage Rate is high, but this one won't jam. The Dwarf Master even designed it himself."
"Wouldn't it be wonderful if your Knights Templar had better guns and cannons?"
"Your Highness, the First Prince—you've managed to reproduce the guns?" Edmund was astonished. In truth, the Empire—or the whole world, for that matter—wasn't full of ignorant fools.
Ever since the current Grand Duke of the Northern Border had fought a battle against his legendary Ninth Order father, everyone had started paying attention to firearms again.
They were all developing them.
But those arrogant, rude people in the Northern Border had already gained a massive technological advantage.
As everyone else worked on their own designs, they ran into one problem after another: the steel wasn't good enough, labor costs were too high, or the Black powder was inadequate.
Or they lacked organizational skills, or they didn't have the money.
With all these obstacles, adoption was slow. Meanwhile, the Northern Border's Technology Tree was advancing far too quickly.
It wasn't following the course of history.
"I didn't reproduce them. The Dwarf Master did." The First Prince once again emphasized the Dwarf Master's role. "Last time, the Orcs and