After a month of hard work, the moment of truth had arrived.

Would we succeed in copying iron, or would we fail?

Everyone around me was watching the blast furnace, holding their breath in nervous anticipation.

“Please, let it work… please,” I murmured.

Even if I failed this time, it’s unlikely that the duke would lose faith in me or cut off support for the artisans. After all, he understands that introducing innovative technology rarely goes smoothly from the start.

But if I failed two, three times…

I would lose value. In the worst-case scenario, I’d be cast aside.

Right now, I may be the rising star, but if I lose the duke’s favor, I’d be left high and dry.

I don’t usually pray, but at this moment, I almost wanted to grab onto Deus himself.

We had spent an investment of 10,000 gold coins on this.

If we failed now, all that money would be wasted.

“We’re opening the bottom of the furnace! Everyone, take a few steps back as molten iron will be flowing out!”

The overseer directed me and the other workers to move away.

As we stepped back, the furnace’s base opened, and molten metal gushed out, glowing red like magma, sending everyone into cheers.

“Praise Deus! We’re rich now!”

“I’ve never seen so much iron!”

“Tonight, drinks are on me, boys!”

From what I’ve researched, the Tosca Empire’s steel-making techniques are primitive.

They produce around 300 kilograms of pig iron in kiln-like furnaces similar to those used for firing ceramics, and blacksmiths have to hammer away for hours to extract any steel.

Our furnace, however, just produced around 20 tons of molten iron.

We’ve built a blast furnace capable of producing over 70 times as much pig iron as before.

I’d love to join the cheering, but it’s too soon to celebrate.

To truly start printing money, we need to complete the reverberatory furnace to produce steel.

“Overseer, it’s too early to celebrate. The real test is in the reverberatory furnace,” I said.

The overseer left a few artisans by the blast furnace and moved toward the reverberatory furnace with me.

Two artisans were sweating profusely, working the bellows at the reverberatory furnace.

“Damn, this is killing me!”

“Better this than pounding with a hammer all day. Just shut up and work the bellows.”

Overseer Smith inspected the furnace and gave the order.

“Pour the molten iron!”

Just like with the blast furnace, molten metal poured out.

As soon as it emerged, the overseer and the foremen hurriedly scooped some out and rapidly cooled it.

Once the surface had cooled, they quenched it in water and raised a piece triumphantly.

“It’s steel!! STEEL!! Damn it!”

Even the overseer, who rarely curses, was clearly overcome.

We all understood his sentiment perfectly.

“We’ve just produced over 1.5 tons of steel! Praise Deus!!”

Before I built this reverberatory furnace, producing steel required unimaginable labor.

I’ve heard that it took two blacksmiths over an hour of hammering to make about one kilogram of steel.

Moreover, the labor involved people, who had to hammer away, exhausting their shoulders and arms without rest.

They say that the maximum amount of steel two blacksmiths could produce in a day was roughly four kilograms.

Now, with just two people, we’ve produced over 1.5 tons?

With some exaggeration, it’s about 400 times more efficient.

As the person in charge and a noble, I had to maintain my dignity so far, but…

What dignity in front of such a triumph?

“Praise Deus! Let’s all get rich!”

As a high-ranking noble, my excitement drew everyone’s eyes.

Even though they didn’t say anything, I could almost hear them wondering:

“Is it really okay for the young master to celebrate with us like this?”

It’s only fair to answer a question, even if unspoken.

“Do you think I have blue blood or something? I’m human too, and I want to make money and live well.”

They burst out laughing at my jest.

“What, do you think nobles are different? Nobles can’t marry without money either.”

In the 21st-century Korea, people give up on marriage due to lack of money, but in the Tosca Empire, the reasons are a bit different.

If you don’t have a stable livelihood, you can’t marry.

If I were a serf, I’d need the right to till the lord’s land, and as an artisan, I’d need guild membership or a workshop.

My unconventional jokes had everyone laughing and holding their sides.

“Overseer, leave only the essential staff on duty tonight. The rest of you, go drink on the duke’s tab.”

“Are you saying we can drink as much as we want tonight?”

I could almost see the spirit of a booze-loving ghost in the overseer’s eyes.

That evil hand, already shaped like it was holding a tankard, was a giveaway.

“Do you think you’ll make a dent in the duke’s wallet no matter how much you drink?”

The overseer laughed at his own guilt.

“Ah, we truly misunderstood you.”

“As long as you understand.”

The repentant overseer rallied the artisans.

“The young master says we can drink as much as we want tonight! Let’s go!”

Yes, celebrate while you can.

The more they celebrate this trial’s success, the more they’ll be able to endure the overwork when production scales up.

This is just a test run…

When the duke starts investing full-force?

The workforce will probably increase tenfold.

“Soon, the serfs below will become steel mill slaves, won’t they?”

They’ll be hauled into the mill, starting with the lowest tasks.

But this may not be a bad prospect for them.

Since we’re short on hands, they’ll be given better pay than they’re used to as serfs, and they’ll have the opportunity to become free citizens.

“... I hope things stay this good from now on.”

I genuinely hope so.

Of course, things rarely stay easy.

The steel from Fabio’s steel mill soon flooded the Florence market.

“Steel, 1kg for just 15 copper coins! Dirt cheap!”

Fifteen coppers for a kilogram of steel.

It’s a small fortune, about 15 times the daily wage of an average laborer.

It might seem too expensive, but considering that skilled artisans usually crafted steel with backbreaking effort, it was suspiciously cheap.

“What, trying to pass off wrought or pig iron as steel? You think I’m blind?”

“Do I look like I’m lying to you?”

“Oh please, if you’re a merchant, you should know that mixing in a little sand or sawdust with your flour is the basic skillset.”

If the customer is a commoner or peasant, it’s common for merchants to dilute the goods.

For nobles, merchants might not tamper with the goods but will inflate the prices.

This disdain for merchants was why Fabio’s father and other nobles often looked down on them.

“Why would I scam you, Alfredo? You’re a regular, and you’re the only one who can handle this much stock. Just take a look for yourself.”

The man, Alfredo, inspected the steel.

He hammered it, poked it with an awl—no scratches at all.

Neither pig nor wrought iron could be this hard.

“Damn, where did you get steel like this?”

“If I told you, I’d go out of business. Now, how much are you buying?”

“All of it. You know this price doesn’t make sense.”

“We have 50 tons. Can you handle it?”

“I’ll sell it to the armorers in Florence or the Duchy of Milan.”

Alfredo kept his expression calm, but inside, he was ecstatic.

Steel commands a high price, and he was about to purchase 50 tons of it at a bargain.

Even if it took time to sell, he’d make two or three times the profit.

“Alright, let’s write up the contract. Any defects and I’ll refund accordingly.”

On a regular day, he might’ve questioned my honesty, but today, he was quick to sign.

As he rose to leave, a thought occurred to him.

“But what will happen to the blacksmith guild if this much steel floods the market? They’ve always made a killing with steel.”

I smiled.

“Does it matter? Besides, I hear this steel is from the Visconti dukedom. I’ve secured 50 tons; they must have about 2,000 tons in total.”

“Two thousand tons at two-thirds the usual price… has the duke lost his mind?”

Even with a 30% discount, the duke would still make a fortune.

Thanks to Fabio, they could now copy iron at barely 10% of the previous cost.

“What do I care? I’m just here to make money.”

“Duke Sforza was backing the blacksmiths, right? Guess those blacksmiths are in trouble now.”