The principle and structure of DC generators are remarkably simple. As a child, Roland disassembled over a dozen four-wheel-drive car motors, ranging from standard whiteboard motors to the legendary King Chao Ba, and even rewound rotor copper wires by himself. These motors are all classic DC motors.
A DC generator and a DC motor share identical structural designs. Fundamentally, they are essentially the same device with interchangeable functions. When a rotating rotor is driven by other machinery, the wires continuously cut through magnetic flux lines, generating a steady stream of induced current.
With the help of Muyue and Anna, Roland assembled a simple DC motor in just half a day. The stator was entirely crafted from wood and magnetized by Muyue. The commutator at the rotor's end was mounted on a log with a central hole for connecting to the steam engine shaft. This design not only simplified production but also ensured electrical insulation between the commutator blades.
As for the new steam engine, he and Muyue watched Anna demonstrate her God-level machining skills. When large components were needed, she would open the black furnace, wrap a pile of iron ingots inside like a cloth, melt them, then contract the furnace to compress the iron into precise-sized plates, which were finally cut into shape.
The very next day, as Roland was preparing to test the generator in the calcination room's backyard, Guard delivered a heartening news: the chief alchemist from Chishui City's Alchemy Workshop had arrived in Border Town, and he wasn't alone.
...
Kamor Shuir made a decisive move, boarding a merchant ship bound for Border Town that afternoon with his family and over ten disciples. Regrettably, Chamis hesitated and ultimately declined his invitation.
He kept the letter's contents secret from other alchemists, knowing that the more people knew, the later he could depart. Kaimo feared the Duke would soon hear of the successful crystalline glass production, making it harder to leave later—such a lucrative luxury item would surely be firmly held by the Duke.
He had documented the glass formula and firing techniques on parchment, storing them in the alchemical cabinet of the refining chamber—a reward for the ducal investment in constructing the alchemy workshop. Yet, in the face of the truth of alchemy, neither crystal glass nor the alchemy workshop held any significance.
Five days later, Kemo finally met the author of the letter—Border Town Lord, Roland Wimbledon.
In the castle drawing room, he had barely finished his bow before his seat was taken when he blurted out, "Your Highness, I wish to speak with your alchemist." "My alchemist?" The man smiled. "Border Town had no alchemist before you arrived. But now, you are my alchemist." "You mean... those alchemical formulas were all written by you?" Kaimo brushed aside the latter part, his face turning pale. A thought struck him: if the man was Prince, then all his knowledge must have come from the court tutors. If he knew these secrets, wouldn't the Royal Alchemy Association have long grasped the essence of alchemical transformations? To presume he could surpass them? That was sheer absurdity.
"Not entirely," Roland said. "These formulas originated from ancient texts dating back four hundred years, which I discovered by chance. Apparently, centuries ago, they referred to alchemy as 'chemistry.' " "Chem...istry?" Kemo felt a surge of relief upon realizing the formulas didn't come from the Royal Alchemy Association, though Prince's answer still left him astonished. Alchemical texts from four hundred years ago? The Royal Alchemy Association itself had existed for less than two centuries. Could it be that later generations were inferior to their predecessors?
"Exactly. The scholars in the book proposed a theory called the immortality of matter. The substances that make up the world don't disappear or multiply—they simply transform from one form to another. Take this cake, for example," Roland pointed to the cake on the long table. "When you eat it, some gets absorbed and some expelled. If you add up the absorbed and expelled portions, their mass should be equal." "Wait... Your Highness," Kemo mused. "If I burn a piece of wood into powder, no matter how I weigh it, the powder weighs less than the wood. If matter is indestructible, where does the missing material go?" "The book explains this too," Roland chuckled. "It turns into gas and water. The water evaporates when heated, so you only see the residue left behind." "Gas?" Kemo felt something about to burst out. "Does air have weight too?" "Of course, all matter has mass," Prince nodded. "It's simple to verify. Fill a bottle with wood chips, cover it, and place it on a balance. Once balanced, light the chips. You'll find the bottle's weight remains unchanged. The gases released from combustion don't escape—they stay inside." "So... this is written in ancient texts?" Kemo asked eagerly. "Can I see that book?" "If you agree to a few conditions," Roland shrugged.
"Please proceed." "First and foremost, you'll work for me with compensation matching your previous pay at Chishui City Alchemy Workshop. Second, once you accept this position, you must strictly adhere to confidentiality protocols—no disclosing your work to other alchemists. Third, if you agree, we'll sign a five-year contract. After this period, you'll have the freedom to choose your next destination, and your alchemical achievements will no longer be restricted by confidentiality agreements, allowing you to showcase them to fellow alchemists or guilds. In return, if you accept these terms, Border Town will provide housing and a chemistry lab. I'll also lend you the book *Elementary Chemistry* for study, and feel free to ask me if you have any questions." These terms didn't sound overly demanding, Kaimo thought. While terms like "confidentiality protocols" and "chemistry lab" were somewhat awkward, he could grasp the general meaning. The five-year contract wasn't too long either—he'd originally expected Lord to insist on making him stay permanently in Border Town.
And... even under the most rigorous conditions, he would insist on seeing with his own eyes the book that holds the essence of alchemy.
At this, Kaimo rose and slightly bent: "I am ready to serve you, Your Royal Highness." "Very well, then that's settled," the Prince seemed unconcerned with formalities. "Your workplace is by the Chishui River. After signing the contract, I'll show you around the laboratory and explain the purpose and procedures of those glass vessels." What puzzled the Chief Alchemist was why Your Royal Highness spoke so confidently about alchemy. Was he merely an ordinary Noble who had stumbled upon ancient alchemical texts? But these were trivial matters. Suppressing his doubts, he asked, "What does Your Highness need me to prepare?" "High-concentration acid, the more the better," the Prince replied.