Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 211 Migration
The weather was warm and the wind carried a slightly damp scent.

Winters sat on the wooden crate, watching blankly as his yurt was dismantled by the others.

With the skin removed and the frame untied, the warm felt tent was instantly transformed into a pile of sticks and several bundles of leather.

Suddenly, a large number of people appeared in the camp, and the herders scattered over several kilometers all came over at once.

Strangers speaking an unfamiliar language moved around, quickly dismantling, tying up, and carrying the entire camp onto the backs of cattle.

Although it looks chaotic, everyone actually knows what they are supposed to do, and everyone is fulfilling their responsibilities.

They were familiar with the process and needed no further explanation—except for Winters.

Erlun was busy taking inventory and couldn't pay attention to Winters for the moment.

As for the lion cub, he simply wasn't in the camp.

Winters sat blankly among a group of strangers, feeling like a little kid who had gotten separated from the adults in a square.

Coincidentally, several snotty-nosed children were standing a few meters away, curiously watching him.

Winters turned his gaze away, and the children took off running.

They left Winters with women, children, and the elderly without any guards.

Women and the elderly walked past him, nodding in greeting and respectfully calling him "Herstus".

The few wounded men in the camp looked at him warily and respectfully called him "Palatubalatu'er".

"Baratul" is a title of honor for warriors, usually placed after their names. It has the connotation of being tough and sturdy, and could perhaps be translated as "Palatu the Tough Guy."

Rumors spread like wildfire, and now everyone knows that Winters killed Balatuer of the Teldon tribe during the Magora ceremony, and that he made an enemy of the Fire-Bakers because of it.

However, the pronunciation of "Palatubalatuer" was too convoluted, so it was quickly simplified into a catchy two-syllable word: "Batu!"

Erlun came over with a pot of hot mare's milk, his willow-leaf eyes crinkling into crescent moons when he smiled: "Would you like some hot milk?"

“No need,” Winters shook his head. “I’ll just have water.”

Drink cow's milk in the morning, mare's milk at noon, and goat's milk in the evening, then change the order and do it again.

Even with a high dairy intake, military officers couldn't withstand this kind of diet, which involved alternating between the three items.

What kind of milk-flavored paradise is this? This is practically dairy hell.

"Have some milk, there won't be time to start a fire on the way." Erlun coaxed Winters, "The doctor said your wound needs more milk to heal faster."

After a fierce internal struggle, Winters took the copper bowl and gulped down the wine.

“That’s great! I’ll get you some more milk cakes to eat on the way.” Erlun turned and left, the beads on her belt twirling like flowers.

"Where are we going?" Winters asked.

Erlun turned back, frowning as he explained, "Shouldn't we meet up with the old camp first, and then go to Hanlan River? Actually, I don't know either..."

“It’s alright,” Winters reassured him.

"Don't think of me as a bad person, I won't hide anything from you." Erlun was perceptive and immediately understood Winters' emotions.

She said with a touch of sadness, "Two years ago when I met you, Little Lion and I had just returned to the tribe. Neither of us knew much about the migration."

Winters then remembered that Erlen and her brother had lived on the slave plantations of the archipelago for at least eight years, and Erlen could even speak fluent Common.

Returning home after such a long absence, she's practically no different from a stranger. Perhaps she sometimes feels out of place?

"Don't be sad," Winters said softly. "How could I blame you? I only feel gratitude towards you."

Erlun was even more upset; her eyes reddened, and she left, sobbing.

She returned shortly after, brought Winters a bowl of milk cake, and then left crying again.

……

Although Winters was not good at interacting with women, he was not oblivious.

On the contrary, he is quick-witted, observant, and able to perceive many subtle emotions.

He was not unaware of Erlun's feelings, but he could only pretend to be oblivious.

Winters had no intention of lingering in the wasteland; he didn't want to hurt this sincere and beautiful woman.

His heart was completely filled with Anna, leaving no room for anyone else.

What is Anna? Anna is a campfire in despair.

As he gradually became numb and cold, it was those beautiful memories that protected his last shred of humanity: his family, his hometown, and Anna.

For Winters, Anna represented the best part of his life.

In his dreams, he rested his head on Anna's lap countless times, and Anna gently stroked his forehead, dispelling the blood, death, severed limbs, and hideous enemies...

Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder: "Is Anna really as good as I imagine? Or am I constantly embellishing my memories? Creating a fictional person who can't exist in reality?"

He felt fear and anxiety: "If that's really the case, will I be disappointed when I reunite with Anna?"

Putting aside Winters' anxiety, he simply couldn't accept another person.

He didn't even dare to get close to Erlun, because Erlun was just as wonderful.

When Winters woke up and saw her for the first time, he felt that she was as bright and warm as the sun.

Although he didn't know exactly what Erlun liked about him, he was flattered by this admiration.

Winters is "winter," and he is afraid of being melted.

In fact, he was horrified to discover that he had developed a dependence on Erlun.

If Antonio heard Winters' thoughts, he would surely scold him helplessly: "Naive! Fool who's blinded by first love! How will you be the head of the household in the future?"

However, considering General Serbiati's family status, this statement seems somewhat weak and powerless.

……

The few children sat in a crate, carried by woolly oxen.

There were no ceremonies or any commemorative acts such as smashing bottles or sprinkling holy water.

Just like going out for a walk on a normal day, Winters' camp set off on a "migration".

Riders led the way with horses, followed by woolly cows carrying all their belongings, and then a huddled mass of goats and goats bringing up the rear.

Adult men and women either ride horses or walk with oxen.

Winters, whose left leg was fixed in place by a wooden mold, enjoyed special treatment and rode in an oxcart just like several elderly women whose teeth were almost all gone.

Ever since Lieutenant Mason led the wrong way, Lieutenant Colonel Jessica's most frequent order has been: "Lieutenant Montagne! Lead the charge!"

The old charlatan then played a trick on Winters, teaching him a line of poetry: "The lord still bestows favors, and the general will lead the charge."

This was the first time Winters had ever ridden in a rear-wheel-drive oxcart.

He felt somewhat ashamed, and couldn't help but wonder: what happened to the lieutenant colonel, the old charlatan, and the others?

But the elderly women were quite happy. They mumbled indistinct words and shakily moved to make him more comfortable.

Winters only caught one word: Herstas.

He still doesn't understand why the Hed people call him "Herstus." Do they consider him the successor of the old shaman?
He suddenly recalled the blood oath ceremony involving the application of ointment, which answered some of his questions but also brought up more.

Winters can be quite fiery at times, but he's easygoing with older people. Even when dealing with disrespectful old charlatans, Winters is usually the one who gets bullied.

So he tried to keep his body hunched over so as not to burden the elderly.

An elderly man stared intently at Winters for a long time, then suddenly grabbed Winters' hand and cried out.

Winters couldn't understand what the other person was saying, but Erlun rushed over upon hearing the commotion.

Erlun's face grew paler and paler as he listened to the old woman's words.

"What is the old man saying?" Winters also became serious.

“You wouldn’t want to know,” Erlun said with difficulty. “I’ll find you another car.”

"Go ahead and say it, it's nothing." Winters felt a sense of relief, as if he had finally gotten his wish.

He knew very well that he had killed so many people from the Chihe tribe, and this day was bound to come sooner or later.

“Grandma Tucha was also a slave at the Red Pine Manor. She has seen you, and she wants to ask you something.” Erlun’s eyes were filled with tears: “Were you present when the Palatus killed prisoners outside Bianli City?”

“I was there,” Winters replied with only this one sentence.

I was there, but I didn't lay a hand on anyone. Winters saw no point in saying such things and disdained to utter them.

“If you want revenge, then come on,” Winters thought. “Everyone thinks I have a blood feud with Monkey Butt Face. But actually, my hatred for the Red River Tribe is higher than mountains and deeper than the sea.”

Erlun translated Winters' answer accurately.

An elderly man named Tucha held Winters' hand, trembling as he pressed it to her forehead, and finally placed it on her chest, muttering something under his breath.

“She said she knew she saw Herstius that day.” Erlen translated as she listened: “She knew it was Herstius who saved them, otherwise everyone would have been killed. She said she knew everything…” Winters withdrew his hand as if burned by a hot iron, his voice trembling slightly: “No, I didn’t save anyone. You should hate me!”

“I can’t ride in this car…” He struggled to crawl out of the car, but fell to the ground amidst Erlun’s exclamation.

……

Erlen found Winters another car.

It was called a cart, but it was really just a plank-like thing. One end was fixed to the ox's shaft, and the other end lay on the ground. It didn't even have wheels; it was dragged along.

Winters lay in the car, preoccupied and unable to calm down for a long time.

By the time he regained his composure, he had already walked quite a distance.

He looked around and suddenly realized, "So this is what nomadic life is like."

"The word 'Herd' means herd. The Herd people are herders who move their livestock by following the water and pasture."

The words in the book were hollow and cold, yet Winters found himself immersed in them without even realizing it.

Compared to knowledge learned indirectly, witnessing "nomadism" firsthand is a completely different experience.

Only this group of creatures remained on the desolate plains; no other human habitation could be seen.

The cattle and sheep sometimes scattered and sometimes gathered together, and the riders would occasionally use long poles to knock down the stray animals.

People and livestock alike started walking, as if they all knew where they were going, as if they could keep walking like this forever.

After walking and resting for about six or seven hours, the migrating caravan stopped by a small lake.

The livestock were taken to drink water, the people reassembled the felt tents, and the lion cubs were already waiting there.

Winters suddenly realized that nomadism was not only not an endless horizon, but also had nothing to do with freedom and wandering anywhere.

It's more like a series of carefully planned, finite journeys than a random, aimless gamble.

This lifestyle is quite different from settled farming; migration is an important part of it.

This kind of life is not much different from the life of the farmers in Wolftown that Winters had seen.

Hard work, simple life, ordinary life; nothing spectacular or interesting, just a group of people trying to live.

Winters had a strange feeling: perhaps human power lies in the act of “striving to live.”

Just as Winters was lost in thought, the little lion came over.

The little lion tapped on the vehicle's side panel and asked with a smile, "How's your first day traveling with us? Are you getting used to it?"

Winters snapped out of his reverie: "Traveling by carriage is easier than riding a horse."

"I heard you're not used to the food? I was the same when I first got home." The little lion patted his bow pouch, his eyebrows dancing with excitement. "I'll go hunt two rabbits for you. Once your injury heals, we'll go hunting, that'll be so much fun!"

"Don't rush, I have something to ask you." Winters' expression was serious.

"We'll talk about it when we get back!" the little lion laughed, leaped onto the saddle, and galloped away.

……

When the little lion returned, he brought not only the rabbit but also another person with him, though he seemed very reluctant.

The man who arrived was a very old Hud man with a weathered face.

He brought two gifts: a bag of flour and a beautiful curved knife.

Without the red and blue feathers, Winters couldn't identify the Herd. But judging from the fabric and embroidery of the robe, he must have been a high-ranking leader.

The little lion was too lazy to translate, but the man wasn't annoyed and called Erlun to help.

After a brief explanation, Winters learned that the other party was named Tie Feng [Qi Tieya], the uncle of the White Lion siblings, and the leader of the Eagle Forest tribe.

Winters accepted the flour but didn't touch the scimitar.

Tie Feng said a sentence, and Erlun translated it:
"Don't worry about the fire-brooders seeking revenge. The Teldun tribe and we are sworn brothers. You are safe here with us."

Winters didn't say anything.

Chief Hed didn't beat around the bush and asked directly, "[Hed] I heard you're Kota, the two-legged man?"

When 'Erlun' was translated, 'Kota' was a transliteration.

But Winters knew that Corta was a military nobleman in the Heard society.

The little lion and Tie Feng had a big argument, and the lion stormed off.

Tie Feng said something to Winters again, and Erlun was stunned.

Tie Feng urged Erlun.

“Uncle asked,” Erlun whispered, “Are you willing to train a new army for us? You can have anything you want. Even me.”

Winters stared at Tie Feng expressionlessly; he didn't need to say a word, his body language was the answer.

"[Hede] Do you understand? If you can really keep him under control, I won't utter a sound." Tie Feng said to Erlun, "[Hede] The two-legged man looks down on us. No matter how much effort you put in, he doesn't want you at all. The Fire-Baker has already proposed to the White Lion for you three times. The Red River Tribe is in the most dangerous time right now. Do you really want your brother to lose his most important ally?"

After saying that, Tie Feng didn't even look at Winters again, and turned to walk out of the tent.

According to Winters, it was just that Tifeng gave Erlun a severe scolding and then left.

"Why did he do this to you?" Winters asked softly.

"It's nothing, it's alright." Erlun sobbed softly, "I have flour, I'll make you bread."

A short while later, the little lion returned, fuming. Seeing his sister crying, he understood everything.

"Don't cry! Erlun, you must be happy." The little lion patted his chest and said, "With me and my brother here, there's nothing to be afraid of."

Erlun wiped away his tears, picked up the flour, and walked out of the felt tent.

"Did you think my uncle and I were playing that 'good master, bad master' game?" The little lion scratched his head and asked with a wry smile.

“No, I’ve never thought that way,” Winters answered honestly. “Because you have a bigger temper than me.”

“I’m telling you, I really hope you can stay and help my brother,” the little lion said sadly. “You probably don’t know the current situation of our Red River tribe. Alas, the other tribes won, but our Red River tribe lost.”

The little lion was wrong. Winters knew very well that at least 30% of the Red River tribe's losses were due to his "achievements".

Throughout the Great Wilderness Wars, Winters almost always clashed head-on with the Red River Tribe... as well as the Fire-Burning Terdun Tribe.

Everyone knew of his feud with the Teldun tribe because of that duel on the battlefield.

However, Winters was fully armed when he fought against the Red River tribe, and three-quarters of the centurions in the entire legion wore almost identical armor.

Moreover, Winters is now living in the same camp as the elderly, women and children, so it's even less likely that anyone would discover that he is "him".

"I want you to stay, but only if it's your own choice. I will never force you to stay. As long as I live, you are safe." The little lion laughed heartily, saying with boundless pride, "If you stay, you will lead the infantry, and my brother will lead the cavalry. Which of the tribes can stand against us?"

“But…” Winters sighed, “I never want to fight again.”

"Then what do you want to do?" the little lion asked curiously.

"So what do you want to do?" This question struck Winters's heart like a hammer.

A "loyal heir," a man destined to be a soldier from birth, a man who entered military school at the age of nine, a man who knew nothing but fighting, a man with blood on his hands.

Besides fighting wars, what else do they want to do? What else can they do?
He leaned against the pillows, staring straight at the dome: "Lie down."

Thank you to all the readers for reading, requesting, recommending, voting, donating, and liking. Thank you everyone.

The content about nomadic migration in this chapter comes from a documentary. "Nomadism is not just about an endless horizon, nor is it about being free and wandering aimlessly. It's more like a series of carefully planned, finite journeys, with no element of luck," is a quote from the original text.

White Lion and Blood Wolf, this is practically a dream team of male doubles [land-based team].

The [Sea Group] consists of the six-star divine general Nareshaw and the E-god Great Demon Spyr.

But Winters just wants to lie down right now...

Through Winters' observations in the wasteland, the Great Wasteland War can be presented from the perspective of the Herd tribes.

One reader asked, "Why does the White Lion always have a way?"

From the perspective of the Hed people, it becomes, "Why do the Platut people always have a way?"

Some readers have mentioned that the White Lion's sneak attacks have a 100% success rate.

Is that correct? No, because Winters's sneak attack success rate is 100%.
Some readers also mentioned that none of the Paratists worked as hard as Winters.

That's not true either; many of the hard-fought battles were fought by the Paratites. The Paratites were the ones who suffered the most casualties, not the Venetians.

Winters wasn't fighting for Plato, but because he felt responsible for his subordinates. This strong sense of responsibility was part of Winters' personality and closely related to his adoptive father's upbringing.

Antonio was a man with a strong sense of responsibility, and it was he who taught Winters to "be responsible."

So even if Winters had been drawn into this war, and placed in that position, he would have fought with all his might; becoming a traitor was certainly not an option for him. Due to space limitations, we'll summarize at the end of the volume.

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(End of this chapter)