Freiburg, Breisgau.
In what appeared to be Germany, Berthold Schwarz wore loose garments as he looked angrily at the ways in which gunpowder had been used.
"If I had known all of this would happen, I would have never spread its use."
"No matter how I think about it, the mistakes I made during my life cannot be changed, even if I wanted to."
In his workshop, there were newspaper pages pasted to the wall that read: Berthold Schwarz, German alchemist and Franciscan friar, whose real name is believed to have been Konstantin Angeleisen or Anklitzen.
He was born in Freiburg, Breisgau, probably at the beginning of the 14th century, and died in 1384.
He was traditionally credited with the invention of gunpowder, although it had already been invented in China centuries earlier, and in Europe Roger Bacon had already mentioned it in his writings a century before.
Konstantin looked at the blueprints in his hands, but angrily threw them aside and went to his bed to try to clear his mind.
But as he closed his eyes, he heard a voice that seemed to come from both near and far.
"Titans… I wonder if I'll be able to create a weapon that can stand against them with the technology of this world."
"!"
"What should I do, what should I do, what should I do…"
The owner of that voice sounded very worried…
…
Gale suddenly opened his eyes, but instead of seeing the familiar ceiling of his room, he found himself sitting in an armchair, facing a large ancient-looking mirror. In front of him, an old man sitting there also opened his eyes.
"Ahh!"
Both he and the old man were startled and instinctively looked away.
Gale looked around in horror, touched his face, and only after seeing that he was still the same child did he let out a sigh of relief.
He looked around again. It was a completely enclosed room, with nothing more than an armchair, the mirror, and a table with blank sheets of paper.
Old Konstantin coldly looked at Gale and asked in a gruff tone, "Who the hell are you?"
"I'd like to ask you the same thing," Gale replied softly as he recovered from the shock.
"Wait, were you the one talking just now?"
"Me? Did I say something?" Gale pointed at his own face in disbelief.
"Of course it was you. You were saying nonsense. Are you some kind of damn coward?" the old man snorted as he looked at his pocket watch.
"Could it be… did you hear what I was thinking while I was asleep?" Gale considered the possibility and said, "So it was you who was angry just now?"
"Huh?" Konstantin looked at Gale and said, "Angry? Of course I wasn't angry. That's just my tone of voice."
While listening to the old man, Gale stood up from the armchair and looked at the mirror in front of him.
"It seems I can't pass through this mirror." Gale placed the palm of his hand against it, and it rippled as if he had touched water.
"Hey! Kid! Are you listening to me? Don't ignore me!" Konstantin shouted from the other side of the mirror.
"First, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gale. I work on a farm, but although it's called work, I'm actually a slave. I was sold to the farm, though in reality I'm hiding from some assassins."
Gale sat down on the floor in front of the mirror.
"A slave? I don't care who you are. You're probably just a creation of one of my dreams. Honestly, even my dreams are very strange. I should wake up soon. I still have to keep reading those stupid history books that mention me."
"They mention you? What did you do in life for history books to consider you?"
"If you're one of my creations, you should know that I am Konstantin Angeleisen." The old man became a bit more interested in Gale and said, "Well, I'm the inventor of gunpowder. Now do you know who I am?"
"You… how are you in my dreams? You should be dead…" Gale was impressed not only by understanding Konstantin, but also by being able to speak with him.
"My dreams?" Konstantin glanced slightly at Gale and asked, "Did you also die?"
"Yes, something like that…"
"But if we are both asleep, then for some reason our consciousnesses connected. This has never happened to me with anyone else before. You're the first."
"Yes, it's my first time too." Gale did not know what to talk about with a man who had influenced one of the most important events in modern society.
Gale had nothing with him, only his consciousness had traveled along, and his only advantage was the memories that told him what would happen in the future.
"Are you so impressed that you don't want to talk anymore?" Konstantin also wanted to know who Gale was, since after his death, he was the only person he had spoken with.
In his room, he could only endlessly read books that appeared on his desk.
"What's wrong with you?" Konstantin frowned as he looked at the boy in the mirror.
He was just an underdeveloped child, still very childish, with an ordinary face, and his eyes were quite striking—a bright green color.
"You have your own consciousness, you have a name, you know who I am, but you are not from my mind."
"Excuse my question…" Gale looked directly at Konstantin and asked, "Could you teach me everything about gunpowder?"
Gale wanted to confirm one thing: was he really the inventor of gunpowder? If this was a dream, then whatever he learned here could be manufactured in reality with the proper knowledge.
That was knowledge; it was impossible for him to know something he did not know.
As a boy who liked to create new things, he did not worry much about things that had already been invented, so his knowledge of gunpowder was limited.
He was completely unfamiliar with the formulas for gunpowder, soap, and other things that any other guy who might have been in his situation would have been familiar with, which was truly embarrassing for someone who called himself an inventor.
"Tell me one thing—why should I teach you something I regret today?" Konstantin asked, snorting coldly.
"It's not for ambition or power. I need to learn about gunpowder for freedom." Gale did not beat around the bush. He sat in the armchair, looked at Konstantin, and said, "Let me tell you a story about where I currently live."
Gale then briefly told him about the problems humanity was facing where he came from, and although skeptical, Konstantin thought that perhaps, just for a moment, his knowledge could be used for the good of humanity—even if it was not the one he remembered.
"Tch…" Konstantin clicked his tongue. "Whatever. In any case, it's not a secret."
After saying that, Konstantin brought a chalkboard up in front of the mirror and said, "To make gunpowder, you need saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. Everything depends on the balance between them. A minimal variation completely changes the result. Even middle school students learn this basic principle."
Gale quickly memorized the proportions of the materials as he listened to Konstantin speak. "It's true that the Chinese were the first to discover gunpowder, but their methods were outdated. My formula was the most precise. My ideas were the most suitable for making full use of gunpowder without wasting materials."
"It's true that it was refined later, but even so, my calculations were not incorrect."
Gale nodded and asked, "Um… I also wanted to ask, where do we get these three materials? In the fifteenth century, how did they manage to gather all the raw materials?"
"Do you really intend to make gunpowder?"
"It's the only way."
Konstantin looked into Gale's eyes, but still answered the question. "Saltpeter is the soul of gunpowder. In places like China and India, there is natural saltpeter in many parts of their territory, but not in Europe."
"Europe inherently lacks large expanses of saltpeter-rich soil. They collect saltpeter from all corners of the countryside, such as the bottoms of houses, animal pens, public latrines…"
"In short, places with strong odors. White saltpeter is the most abundant, since it is essentially solidified nitrogen, abundant in feces."
"So you mean to look for it in a place like a latrine… what would it look like?"
"White powder."
"Then, teacher, what about sulfur? Is there any special consideration with charcoal?"
"Don't call me teacher!" Konstantin felt a bit proud, so he replied more kindly. "Sulfur is found in most minerals, such as native sulfur, pyrite, and marcasite."
"As for charcoal, alder or buckthorn are usually the best, though personally I believe any kind is ideal."
"Any kind…" Gale nodded, jotting down the different materials and proportions.
"Well, it seems we're about to part ways." Seeing the white mist surrounding both of them, Konstantin looked seriously at Gale and said, "Boy, if gunpowder in your world is not very developed, with what you've just learned, you'll hold unimaginable power in your hands."
"I'm aware of that." Gale knew how dangerous gunpowder would be in the wrong hands.
"That's why you must use it against those monsters you want to eliminate."
"Yes, only against the Titans."
"Then…"
"Thank you for everything. You truly are an idol to me, and if I could, I would also like to be someone remembered in history." Gale looked at Konstantin with a genuine smile, and the old man sighed.
"Goodbye, boy…"