Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 215 Mastiff
This was a day in mid-May.

As dawn broke, Pierre went to the fields with his hoe.

He has been home for some time now, and he has taken on all the farm work himself, refusing to let his mother and sister do it.

Wolf Town is remote and isolated, and the wars between important figures are like mere snippets of news sent back from distant lands.

The Second Republic, the Military Government, the Battle of Kingsburg... The people here can only hear fragmented news, and it's hard to tell whether it's true or false.

For farmers whose lives are monotonous, even the smallest novelty can set them together for hours of discussion, let alone something as significant as war.

But Pierre didn't care about the lives of the important people; he just wanted to farm and make a living.

“We can’t grow tobacco this year.” Pierre thought as he weeded, “Luckily, Dad left a little winter wheat field. If we plant something else, we should be able to get by this year. I’ll go cut some more grass this afternoon, so Scarlett won’t have to herd the cattle and horses anymore.”

Compared to riding horses and wielding swords, weeding was a completely unfamiliar task for Pierre.

The old calluses from gripping the knife handle couldn't protect his hands, but fortunately, new calluses would slowly grow in.

Row after row, Pierre carefully and patiently removed the weeds.

When he first started doing farm work, he often hoeed down the vegetable seedlings as well.

The young master Mitchell may have been indifferent in the past, but now Mr. Mitchell is heartbroken.

Because his mother personally sowed the seeds, watered them, and added sheep manure fertilizer to each seedling, every single one bore the marks of Ellen Mitchell's sweat and the wounds on her hands.

Mitchell Estate has no workers left; the men have either run away or been arrested.

Pierre's family was small, consisting of only his mother, sister, and a few maids who were too old or too young. One of the old maids even needed to be cared for.

Ellen then tied up her hair, rolled up her sleeves, and took on the work in the fields in addition to the housework.

Nobility lies not in how refined one's life is when one is wealthy, but in how resilient one's spine is when one is in hardship.

Farmers from nearby villages also lent a helping hand, sometimes bringing a bundle of hay, sometimes a bushel of wheat, and some even quietly came over and plowed several acres of land.

They hadn't forgotten Girard and Ellen's selfless help. It's just that Mitchell Estate lacked nothing in the past, so they kept it to themselves.

Ellen cultivated a vegetable garden and raised chickens, sheep, and cattle; she carefully hid Gerald's prized mare, preventing it from being discovered by the grain requisition team.

With her own hard work and the help of her neighbors, Ellen managed Mitchell Estate very well.

The war property tax levied by Gévordan had already been paid a few days ago using Scarlett's dowry.

As Pierre worked, he thought to himself: "We now have a vegetable garden, a cow with a calf, four goats, and six hens."

The winter wheat planted last autumn can be harvested as early as the end of this month, at which point there will be no shortage of food for the time being.

After the winter wheat harvest, cattle and horses can be released into the wheat field to fatten them up before planting barley.

There are four horses at home. One is the warhorse I brought back, and three are my father's stallions, one of which is pregnant.

"By next year, we'll have five horses!"

Although Mitchell Estate was severely damaged, it did not collapse and remained a wealthy and prosperous family.

When things improve, this manor will be revitalized.

"I want to buy a hand-cranked millstone! To grind flour. I also want to get two more piglets! I'll cut pig feed for them every day, and then we'll have meat to eat in winter."

Pierre wiped the sweat from his brow, thinking with boundless enthusiasm, "Two horses are enough to pull the heavy plow. After we finish plowing the fields at home, I'll go help the villagers. I'll repay those villagers who helped my mother. I'll also save up for Scarlett's dowry. I'll survive and never let my mother and Scarlett go hungry. When my father comes back, I'll give him a real surprise."

Farm work was tough, but Pierre was young and strong, and he wasn't afraid of anything.

The only thing that gave Pierre a headache was his father's four hunting dogs.

He had no time to hunt, nor enough food to feed the dogs.

With the alpha wolf gone, the hunting dogs had to catch field mice and rabbits on their own, struggling to survive and almost becoming wild dogs.

"If only Brother Montagne were here too." Having deserted, Pierre no longer used the military term.

The thought that he hadn't fought alongside Blood Wolf in his final moments weighed heavily on Pierre's chest.

“Brother Montagne! I will live on!” Pierre shouted into the wilderness, his nose stinging with tears as he thought, “You’ll praise me too, won’t you?”

The sound of horses' hooves echoed across the plains.

Someone heard his shout and ran towards him.

"Pierre!" the newcomer shouted breathlessly.

Visitors have arrived at Mitchell Manor, which is quite a rare occurrence.

Pierre stepped out of the vegetable patch and saw the two riding together on a saddleless Rezhk. Anglu was in front, and Samukin was behind.

The two men rode right up to Pierre before reining in their horses.

Anglou scrambled off his horse and grabbed Pierre's arm in a panic: "Something's wrong!"

“Don’t rush.” Pierre handed the kettle to Anglou. “Take your time.”

Anglu gulped down a large mouthful and exclaimed, "An officer came to town, with soldiers! Samukin saw it. That officer went into Big Bentin's house!"

……

Big Benting is the eldest son of Mr. Old Benting.

Last year, when delivering goods to Ghevodan, Bentin and his son broke away from the convoy, wanting to get back to Wolftown ahead of everyone else.

As a result, they were intercepted halfway by "Horse Shoe Ivan" and his gang of bandits. Old Bentin died, and his eldest son was tortured and left half-crippled.

When Old Bentin died, his three sons divided the family property, making his land smaller and more scattered.

The three Benting brothers even went to court over the distribution of their family property, which caused a great deal of unpleasantness.

Now, the people of Wolf Town call them Big Benzing, Second Benzing, and Little Benzing.

After Gerard Mitchell was drafted, Big Bendine became the acting mayor.

His appointment as acting mayor was far from honorable.

When news of the conscription spread, the laborers all planned to hide. They had no fixed property, and since they had legs, they could go anywhere.

Big Ben then gathered all the servants in his household, saying he wanted to host a farewell banquet.

The stingy employer was unusually generous, and the employees, without suspicion, ate and drank heartily.

When everyone was nearly drunk, Da Benting pushed open the door—the conscription team was waiting outside.

After this incident, Bentin became the acting mayor of Wolftown.

He did evil things, as if he wanted to take revenge on all the people of Wolf Town.

Even when villagers grow vegetables in remote, undeveloped areas, he still demands payment for the land and taxes.

He rejected all the work-related injury compensation systems established by the Montagne resident official.

The lives of the families of those injured in the line of duty have become extremely difficult. Their families have lost their ability to work and they have to pay back taxes and land fees owed for previous years.

A widow of a refugee soldier who was killed in a wolf attack was driven to desperation and nearly committed suicide with her toddler daughter.

It was only thanks to Ellen taking the mother and daughter to Mitchell Estate and paying their taxes that a tragedy was averted.

But the more respected the Mitchells were, the more difficult Bentin became for them.

When levying wartime property taxes, Big Benting deliberately set a high price for the land at Mitchell Estate.

Left with no other choice, Ellen and Pierre used Scarlett's dowry money.

Scarlett was very sensible and showed no reluctance, which made Pierre feel even more sorry for her.

Every night, as he dragged his weary body into bed and gazed at the saber hanging on the wall, Pierre had considered more than once whether he should "talk" to Bentin.

But he held back; he still had his mother, his sister, and Mitchell Estate, and he couldn't act impulsively.

Nowadays, the people of Wolf Town grit their teeth when they mention Big Benting.

Big Ben knew this too, and he was also afraid of being shot in the back.

It is unknown what methods he used, but Zhevodan sent eight soldiers to serve him.

With a troop of fierce-looking soldiers as his backing, Big Benting became increasingly reckless in his actions.

Those eight soldiers were always up to no good, stealing chickens and dogs, harassing women, and were complete hooligans, making the town no place peaceful.

Now look what's happened! Pierre didn't even get a chance to talk to Bentin; Bentin beat him to it.

……

“What are they trying to do?” Pierre’s brow furrowed. “Do you know?”

Samukin interjected, "It looks like they're going to conscript men again! They've come with conscription orders and cangues. They might be here to arrest us too."

"Hook! Go and inform everyone." Pierre made a quick decision; this was definitely not just a matter for one family.

Anglu nodded emphatically, jumped onto his horse, and headed towards Dusa village.

The deserters reunited at Mitchell's mansion. Not only Dussac, but also people from four other villages.

Catholics and Protestants alike, everyone who could come, did.

When everyone escaped back, each person took a horse, so they moved very quickly.

"Run away right now! Get out of here!" Anglu shouted anxiously.

Vasika glared at him: "You're all single, so it's easy for you to leave! We still have a family to support!"

As the acting mayor of Wolftown—and acting resident official—Big Bentin dismissed Anglu from his post as a guard and handed it over to his mentally challenged son.

The horses of Dusa village were also gone, because the warhorses had all been ridden away by the Dusaks.

The young horse herder Anglu was left destitute again.

He doesn't know how to farm, nor does he want to live off the Mitchells.

So Anglu rode his red mane around the nearby villages and towns, earning a living by treating large livestock.

……

Anglu retorted, "What if you don't leave? We'll either arrest you or arrest deserters. Do you think you can escape?"

“If they’re going to catch deserters, I’ll just hide on the other side of the Big Horn River. I’ll just refuse to go—why not?”

They'll forcibly drag you there!

"Let them try. I'm not some little calf they can just tie up."

Pierre sighed: "I wouldn't go even if it were just conscripting men, let alone catching deserters. Winters Montagne, such a good man, and they killed him without batting an eye. They expect me to work for them? Dream on! Do you really want to work for them? We have to go, but the key is where to go."

"Don't worry about all that. If things get really bad, we'll crawl into a hole if we have to." Anglu was the most resolute; he was one of those abandoned on the west bank of the River Styx.

"Ding ding ding ding!" Suddenly, the faint sound of bells could be heard.

The bells of Wolf Town Church rang.

The bell tolled down from the bell tower, across the square, over the green wilderness and black farmland, crashed into the trees, shattered into small pieces, and vanished.

Then came the continuous, terrifying tolling of bells: "Dong...dong..."

"Did you hear that?" Angru's eyes widened. "This is a death knell!"

Pierre made up his mind: "Then let's go! Those who want to go, come with me; those who don't want to go, stay."

"Let's go!" Anglu jumped up excitedly.

Vahika said with difficulty, "We've gone through thick and thin together. If you leave, I'll leave too."

After agreeing on a meeting place and time, the deserters dispersed to go home and prepare dry food and other necessities.

Pierre found his mother, only to discover that she and his sister had already prepared food, clothes, and boots for him.

“Don’t worry.” Ellen gently kissed her son’s forehead and took off the holy badge and hung it around his neck. “We can take care of ourselves.”

Scarlett gently comforted her brother, "Go on, Pierre. I'll hide the cows and horses well so they won't find them. When you come back, we'll have ponies."

……

The deserters from Wolf Town regrouped and fled their hometown.

The soldiers who came to arrest them found nothing; only then did Big Benting and the officers realize that they had escaped.

At dusk, the officer set off from Wolf Town with six cavalrymen, chasing after the deserters by following their footprints.

Night fog rolled across the wasteland, swirled in the valleys, and licked the hollows and cliffs.

The mound, shrouded in mist, appeared much brighter, and birds chirped among the tender grass.

The moon glides across the puddles overgrown with reeds and hazelnuts, like a blooming water lily.

"They can't get far!" the officer urged his men, turning back. "Hurry! Quickly!"

Suddenly, a tripwire shot up from the middle of the road.

The officer's horse tripped on its reins and lurched forward, throwing its rider violently off its back.

The officer was thrown around so hard he rolled three or four times in the dust before finally stopping.

The other three cavalrymen who couldn't react in time were also knocked down, and only the last three cavalrymen managed to rein in their horses with great difficulty.

A dozen or so figures leaped out from the tall grass on both sides of the dirt road.

They neither shouted "kill" nor cursed, but silently subdued the four people who had fallen to the ground.

The other three cavalrymen were pulled off their horses before they could even draw their swords.

A military knife was held to their necks, preventing them from making a move.

The officer's shoulders were slumped, clearly indicating that he had broken them.

He had initially thought they were just a bunch of cowardly deserters, but he never expected that they would actually dare to fight back.

The officer remained unusually calm and tried to persuade the deserters: "You can still stop now. If I die, your whole family will be implicated. I will put in a good word for you."

Another sergeant roared in fury, "You bunch of bastards! How dare you!"

The deserter in the darkness remained silent.

In the desolate wilderness, only the officer's trembling voice and the soldiers' curses could be heard.

"Did any of them escape?" Pierre asked.

“No,” Vahika confirmed.

“Drag it into the woods,” Pierre said, his tone as casual as if he were drinking water. “Don’t leave bloodstains on the road.”

The officer realized what the deserters were up to, and he struggled desperately, his emotions spiraling out of control: "Aren't you afraid of your whole families being punished? I promise you'll be safe! No! Don't kill me! I'll..."

Vahika reversed the hilt of his knife and slammed it hard into the officer's face, silencing him instantly.

Samukin used the same method, and the soldier fell silent in an instant.

The pursuers were horrified to discover that a pit had already been dug in the grove of trees by the roadside.

"Bury it directly?" Vahika asked.

“No, give me a quick death,” Pierre replied.

Vahika raised his hand and slit the officer's throat, being careful not to let a single drop of blood fall outside the pit.

Then came the sergeants.

Then it's the others.

One of the cavalrymen was so frightened that he wet his pants and pleaded, "I am also a Dusak, please don't kill me."

“I’m also a Dussac,” Pierre retorted expressionlessly. “Weren’t you here to kill me too? I just want to farm and support my family.”

The bodies of the seven pursuers were placed in the pit.

The deserters filled the soil back in, carefully laid the turf back in its place, and piled up dead branches and fallen leaves like they had elsewhere.

This place will soon be alive again; the plants will grow even more vigorously thanks to the fertilizer. Birds will sing here, and mice will build their nests here.

“What about the punishment of relatives he mentioned?” Vahika asked.

“If they are neither alive nor dead, it will only be considered a missing person,” Pierre ordered. “Clear up all traces on the road and lead the hoofprints far away.”

Anglu came over and said regretfully, "Those four horses are ruined; they can only be used for meat. The other three are still usable."

“Take them with you.” Pierre waved. “Let’s go.”

The woods were quiet, as if no one had ever been there.

Only a faint, sorrowful voice could be heard from Anglu: "What a pity for those four horses."

As the saying goes, "When the alpha wolf dies, the mastiffs wander. The lone mastiff faces death, but the pack survives."

This chapter explains the story of the mastiffs, otherwise I would have disappeared (facepalm). I used mastiffs instead of wolves because in the cultures of Plato and Hed, dogs are a good word and wolves are a bad word ∑(O_O；)
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments.]

The character of Anglu is somewhat lacking.

In the original outline, the horse he owned in his life—Rerzej/Redmane—would die soon.

Red Mane was favored by his superiors, but after failing to obtain what he wanted, he was poisoned to death.

Anglu will become extremely depressed.

Then, during the first encounter with Hart's cavalry while crossing the River Styx.

While everyone was busy running, Anglu would leap high from the carriage and tackle a Heard officer.

Because the enemy's warhorse looked exactly like the red-maned one. He was also the only one among the panicked militia who dared to resist.

The captured warhorses would be named, also known as Redmane.

However, at that time I was not a great villain, and I was also reluctant to part with Redmane and Anglu.

Therefore, this idea was scrapped.

Anglu and Redmane found happiness, though he became somewhat flattened.

I rarely write about horses dying in battle, but in fact, the casualty rate of warhorses on the battlefield is not low.

The Six Steeds of Zhaoling were Li Shimin's six warhorses, all of which died in battle.

Let's just assume that the warhorses in parallel worlds are all very lucky.

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(End of this chapter)