Gale woke up early in the morning to feed the cattle and the horses in the pens.
At dawn, he carried a pitchfork and wore a straw hat as he walked along the stone path.
His job was simple: feed the animals and clean up, and occasionally take the sheep out for a walk.
What he had learned was that the cattle and sheep were fed three times a day. After the first feeding, the manure had to be cleaned and piled up so it could dry in the open air.
This was something Gale did every day, and today, like any other day, he finished his work and began his search for the white powder that Konstantin had mentioned in his explanation.
Curiously, Gale remembered everything perfectly, and only after searching for a few minutes in the place where one of the materials he needed for gunpowder was supposed to be did he find the white powder near a latrine, which seemed to be the product of the metabolism of bacteria and plants.
He took a small cup, struck the stone with a stick, and scraped the white powder with a knife, collecting only a little. For now, he only wanted to verify whether the gunpowder formula had further qualities that could be developed.
Interestingly, that conversation he had with Konstantin was perfectly etched into his mind—every step, the formulas, the materials, and the precautions he needed to take to avoid making any mistakes.
Gale was certain that he could make gunpowder, something that had never happened to him before, but it did not surprise him.
To be careful during the extraction of the material, he had used a knife to carve the recipe and the steps that Konstantin had mentioned.
At the moment, he had no way of obtaining sulfur, but charcoal was easy to get. The recipe required charcoal, and there was plenty of firewood in the kitchen.
During his morning break, he quietly slipped into the kitchen alone, grabbed a few small pieces of charcoal, and took them with him.
No one would notice that charcoal was missing; they might even think Gale was simply doing household chores.
Gale had not made any mistakes, so Bob had not grown suspicious of him.
"Two out of three…" Gale thought as he carried the charcoal to his room.
The most troublesome ingredient was sulfur. He had seen it before in his science classes, but he had not seen anything similar here.
As for extracting minerals, that was impossible—he did not have the necessary resources right now.
The most convenient way, of course, was to buy it. The towns should sell it, or there might be connections that could obtain it.
This world had weapons and gunpowder, so it should not be difficult to get sulfur. But the problem was that he could not leave the farm, and even if he did, drawing attention in this place was far too easy.
In short, he first dug a hole and hid the saltpeter powder and the charcoal, then continued thinking about how to obtain sulfur.
Bob took a team to buy supplies for the farm approximately every seven days and also sold the farm's products in town. However, he did not always go personally. On several occasions over the past four years, Bob had been unwell, and the cook took charge while he rested at the farm.
Perhaps he could find a way to make Bob's companion indisposed, as if he had diarrhea, and then offer to go to the city to help Bob.
He had not been here long, but he had earned Bob's trust, so he imagined it would not be difficult to make that happen.
Of course, the amount of sulfur he could obtain without drawing attention would be small.
But for now, he would only look for purchasing points and earn the trust of the people in the town.
Gale knew that there was still a long time before the first wall of humanity would be breached by the Titans, so he did not want to rush things.
"It's easy to make the cook sick; I just hope things don't get out of control," Gale thought as he watched the cook, quite cheerful and with a large belly, cooking for everyone.
He was planning to introduce something into the cook's food. There were still three days left until the next purchase, so he had time.
Gale walked across the meadow, devising a plan.
As for Historia, he had no intention of having much contact with her. That was far too dangerous. Historia was practically at the center of the hurricane's vortex.
As someone who had already escaped death, if he got caught up in it, he could easily die without even a place to be buried.
It was best to keep his distance from her. Historia could survive anything; in fact, her future was quite promising and among the best when compared to other important figures.
Everything was set for Historia to become the future queen, so as long as he did not stir things up too much, she would be safe.
But Gale would not. His potential killers were probably Kenny's followers, and for now his future was uncertain.
He no longer trusted his family. The assassins who went after his predecessor had been hired by his own relatives, so he did not know whom to trust.
Being a child and having no one, the last thing Gale wanted was to get involved in possible trouble. And he had one goal in mind: to survive.
He was determined to live!
He would do everything possible to achieve it.
That was why, for three days, he worked as usual and had no further contact with Konstantin in his dreams.
The lady of the mansion whom everyone served rarely showed herself, but Historia was very active and often ran around on the grass.
The housekeeper taught her how to read and write, while Gale tried to avoid the restless girl as much as possible.
The night before the shopping trip finally arrived, Gale added rotten lemon leaves to the steward's beer.
Three days earlier, he had hidden a bowl of stew and soaked the lemon leaves in the broth.
Food spoiled very quickly in summer. The meat soup smelled bad by the second day, and by the third it was rotten. He had to cover his nose when he pulled out the lemon leaf.
The lemon leaf changed color after soaking, but fortunately it was not noticeable in the wheat beer.
To avoid any unpleasant smell, he soaked the wine he had saved in advance to remove the odor with alcohol, then added several fresh lemon leaves.
The steward did not notice anything unusual and drank the wine in front of Ian as if nothing were wrong. Then, as expected, he did not appear on the shopping cart the next day.
Only Bob and a few other male servants were packing boxes, loading the products into crates on the carriage, preparing to depart.
"Is the head cook not going this time?" Gale asked, pretending to just be passing by.
"He's sick, so I'll go alone today," Bob said as he took the list the cook had written.
"Do you have enough people?" Gale set down the pitchfork. "I just finished my work. If necessary, I can go with you."
"What's this? Do you want to go to town and take a look?" Bob seemed very fond of Gale. His dedicated behavior reminded him of his own youth, when he worked to earn bread for himself and his younger brother.
"Hehe." Gale scratched his head.
"Get on. This isn't a game—don't complain about carrying heavy things." Bob once again showed his stern attitude and let him climb up.
"Yes!" Gale accepted, unable to hide the excitement in his eyes. He put down the pitchfork, helped carry the goods, and then climbed onto the carriage.
"Don't wander off when we get to town, or you'll get lost," Bob warned Gale in a low voice.
"Don't worry, I'll stay close to you the whole time."
Bob flicked the reins, and the horse's hooves struck the mud, pulling the cart forward.
They soon arrived at the town, a typical European village with stone houses everywhere and soldiers standing guard at the gate.
The carriage was tied up outside the market, leaving one person in charge. Gale followed him into the market, a bustling place filled with vendors and merchants selling spices, fabrics, vegetables, meat, and various other goods.
They unloaded the vegetables they had brought to the recipient and received a sum of money.
"Here's your allowance. Buy some sweets, but don't tell the others," Bob discreetly placed a silver coin into Gale's hand.
"Thank you," Gale nodded seriously.
Then they began shopping. Because of the new owner, they had to buy more things this time, including not only the usual processed foods, but also fabrics and the finest quality cotton.
Gale saw sulfur at a spice stall. After loading their purchases, he slipped away for a moment under the pretext of going to the bathroom. He went to the vendor and bought a small piece wrapped in cloth. With the money he had left, he also bought a bag of maltose candy.
"What did you buy?" Bob asked in a low voice when he returned.
Gale said nothing; he simply handed him a piece of malt candy.
With all the materials gathered, the next step was verification.
If he truly could refine gunpowder himself, then it would mean that the dream he had was real.
Gale began to think excitedly about what he could do next, now that he could make gunpowder.
But what he did not know was whether he would have a similar dream again.
Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Who knows?