Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 218 Traveler

Although Winters was now able to move freely, Erlun still stayed with him, even more so than before.

“I’d like to talk to you in this tent,” Erlun said, her expression somewhat sad. “The people in the camp, alas, they don’t want to listen to me, nor do they need to.”

The herders had already dispersed with their herds, probably because the pastures could only accommodate a limited number of animals.

However, the camp continued to operate, and many people, tents, and livestock remained there, all of which were Erlun's private property.

The white lion's wife and her child died in war years ago, and his current children are still young.

As the White Lion's younger sister, Erlun naturally took charge of a portion of the old camp. The White Lion also doted on his sister, giving her many subjects, servants, and livestock.

Therefore, Erlun is the mistress of this camp.

But she had been away from the wilderness for a full ten years. At Red Pine Manor, she was Lady Kalman's personal maid. In the Red River Tribe, she suddenly became the ruler of an Ordo.

Not only were the servants unaccustomed to it, but even Erlun himself was not used to it, and it was unavoidable that the servants would bully their master.

“I don’t understand Hed society.” Winters thought for a moment and said thoughtfully, “But when I see tribes migrating, breaking camp, walking, and setting up camp every day, it’s not much different from marching and fighting. In the army, rewards and punishments are the most important. Good performance is rewarded, and bad performance is punished with whips.”

Erlun shook his head repeatedly and whispered, "How could I dare to whip someone?"

Winters calmly said, "You don't have to do it yourself; just assign someone else to do it. But there must be rules, and it must be fair."

“I…” Erlun’s eyes reddened, and he hesitated, “Sigh…”

The little lion ran into the tent, interrupting their conversation.

He winked and asked Winters, "I heard from Bell that they all call you [Wolf's Blood]?"

Bear and the little lion are about the same age and have similar experiences, so they get along very well.

Erlun wiped away his tears, turned around and walked out of the felt tent.

Winters sighed and left the tent, leaning on his cane.

"Erlun? Batu? Why did you two leave?" The little lion was puzzled, then turned to Charles with a smile and asked, "Why do you call him a wolf? Wolf isn't a good word!"

Charles, who had been feigning deafness, retorted, "Is 'wolf' a bad word? Don't you all worship wolves?"

The little lion said angrily, "That's slander from outsiders against the tribes! Wolves are greedy and vicious, how could they possibly worship wolves? We praise people with words like eagle, deer, fine horse, and mastiff, have you ever seen anyone use 'wolf' to praise someone? Only 'wolf cub' is used to insult people. The tribes will beat any wolf they see."

The little lion then asked Ciel with a smile, "But Batu, didn't he happily accept the nickname '[Blood of the Wolf]'? So who exactly worships wolves? Is it you, or us?"

Charles was speechless. He muttered, "My brother wasn't 'happy' either..."

"Then why do you call it [Wolf's Blood]?"

Charles said helplessly, "Because my brother's nickname was even worse."

"What? Is that so?" The little lion became interested and pestered Ciel, asking, "Tell me about it quickly."

……

The little lion was quick-witted; he said the wolf was bad during the day, and the wolf came at night.

In the dead of night, a commotion suddenly broke out in Erlun's camp.

Someone pounded on a gong and shouted at the top of their lungs, "[Hett] The wolf has entered the pen! The wolf is coming!"

The men were startled awake from their sleep and rushed out of their tents, each grabbing a wolf-beating stick.

Winters, who had been woken up, frowned and leaned on his cane to go outside.

Upon seeing this, the sleepy Charles instantly lost all drowsiness and hurriedly stopped Winters: "Brother, you're still injured! Don't go!"

Winters walked into the camp without saying a word.

The wolf leaped into the sheepfold, intending to have a feast. However, it was startled by the herders and ran away into the distance.

The men in the camp mounted their horses, calling to each other and waving their wolf-beating clubs as they chased after the pack.

The sound of horses' hooves gradually faded into the distance, and the camp returned to tranquility.

The women who stayed behind lit torches and busied themselves counting the sheep.

Two pregnant ewes were so frightened that they miscarried, and several other sheep were bitten on the neck.

The men returned one by one, some empty-handed, others wounded—riding horses at night was dangerous.

Erlun searched anxiously through the crowd, asking everyone he met, "Have you seen Batu?"

Everyone shook their heads.

More and more people are returning, except for Paratubadu.

Finally, the little lion returned.

Erlun rushed forward, grabbed his younger brother's arm tightly, and asked through tears, "Have you seen him?"

The little lion shook its head.

Erlun seemed to have all his strength drained away in an instant, and he collapsed limply to the ground.

"Let's go." The little lion tried to help his sister up.

Erlun just stared blankly in the direction where the man had disappeared, refusing to leave.

Left with no other option, the little lion lit a campfire beside his sister and stayed with her.

As the darkness gradually receded, Erlun's tears had dried up.

As dawn broke, the little lion dragged his sister out of bed, saying, "Let's go, he won't be coming back!"

Suddenly, the figure of a rider appeared on the horizon.

The rider was walking slowly, but he was definitely heading towards the camp.

Erlun's tears flowed uncontrollably.

The rider drew closer, and the sky grew brighter.

Only then did the people in the camp realize that the rider was carrying two wolf carcasses on his horse.

"Batu! Woohoo!" The crowd waved and jumped for joy, swaying their clothes and hats and pounding their chests in celebration.

Erlun left silently, returning to her tent and taking out a set of clothes from under a wooden box.

It was an Army Officer Academy cadet uniform, and she had carefully mended every tear.

Erlun held the old military uniform and wept bitterly.

……

The day after the wolf attack, the White Lion sent someone to invite Winters.

At the White Lion's camp, Winters met Brother Reid, who had been elusive lately.

Brother Reed has completely changed.

The former Brother Rhett would make you unconsciously overlook his thin arms, drooping skin, snow-white beard and hair, and weathered face.

He would shout, laugh, and talk like a young man.

At this moment, Brother Reid was just an old man on his last legs.

He was still the same person, but extremely weak, and every breath he took seemed to exhale his life force.

His face had also become dark, with only his eyes still showing a little light.

He lived on as if it were only to see Winters one last time.

Winters' forehead veins bulged as he grabbed the white lion's collar: "What did you do?"

The white lion simply shook its head.

"Hey! You little rascal, cough." Brother Reid chuckled and scolded, "What are you doing?"

Winters then released his grip.

“When it’s my turn, do you think I wouldn’t know?” Brother Reed said with difficulty, beckoning Winters. “I called you here so that we could see each other one last time. Come here and sit next to me.”

Winters obediently sat down next to him.

Brother Reid now seemed to expend a great deal of energy even when speaking: "I brought you here because I want you to do something for me."

"Just tell me."

Brother Reid smiled gently and said, "This matter still needs you to handle. You can help me shave my head. I have spent my life helping others, and in the end, someone will help me too. How kind."

Winters was never a barber; he only ever shaved himself.

But he did not refuse Brother Rhett's request. He readily took the razor, and the old man and the boy got their heads shaved inside the tent.

Two months of sculpting practice have made Winters' control over force more precise.

He was extremely careful not to leave any wounds on Brother Reid's wrinkled skin.

Brother Reid's silvery-white hair fell like snowflakes, revealing one round, burn scar after another.

“I don’t really have anything to tell you,” Brother Reid said slowly with his eyes closed. “Just one thing. You little fellow, you’re standing too low and looking too close, and you’re especially reckless.”

Winters stood silently behind Brother Reid, carefully controlling the pressure of the razor as he continued to shave the hair bit by bit.

"If you don't consider things a hundred years from now, you can't even guarantee what will happen ten years from now. If you don't consider the whole chessboard, you can't even occupy a corner of it." "Hmm."

“I’ve heard that the world is a big sphere.” Brother Reed’s eyes gradually regained their focus: “If you keep going west, you can return to the east.”

"Ah."

"What a pity, I can't finish this journey." Brother Reid asked with a smile, "Do you remember, you still owe this old man three months' salary?"

"Ah."

“I don’t want your money. We Celica people believe in returning to our roots. After I die, cremate my body. Take my ashes with you, travel this road, and bring me back to Celica, okay? Bury me in a place called Phoenix.”

"Okay, I definitely will."

“Definitely what?” Brother Reid chuckled and playfully slapped Winters. “It’s a long journey, and my fate is uncertain. I can’t trouble you with such a thing. I was just saying. After I die, find a river, pour my ashes in, and that will be the end of it all.”

Winters remained silent.

Brother Reid seemed to remember something and continued with a sneer, "But I, an old man, have sworn never to return east in this life. So you'd better find a river that flows from east to west, don't just find some small puddle to fool the old man."

"There are no rivers flowing westward between the two mountains." Winters' voice trembled slightly. "Don't worry, wait for me, I'll take you back to Celica."

“Really? It’s a shame there’s no river flowing west.” Brother Reed coughed twice and gently patted Winters’ arm. “Don’t cry, what are you crying about? I’ve lived enough. I’ve reached the farthest point I can go. At my age, dying is a happy occasion. You should all see me off with smiles. Don’t let your youth fool you, you youngsters might not even live to my age.”

After the shaving ceremony was completed, Brother Rhett had Winters sit in front of him.

“Although you, little one, are an unbeliever, let me bless you one last time. These are the words Brother Philip spoke when he consecrated me, and now I say them to you.” He held Winters’ hand, his fingers lightly touching Winters’ forehead, and murmured:

“[Ancient saying] You will not fear the terrors of the night, or the arrows that fly by in the day; nor the plague that roams in the night, or the deadly disease that destroys at midday; though a thousand fall on your left and ten thousand on your right, that plague will never come near you.”

Winters bowed his head and thanked the old man.

Brother Reid took a deep breath and instantly transformed back into the radiant and vigorous wise man.

He demanded sharply, his voice piercing the clouds and splitting rocks: "Am I poor?"

“Yes!” Winters replied.

"Am I the only one who is pure?"

"Yes!"

"May I return east?"

"Never!"

"Good! Good! Good!" Brother Reid laughed loudly, "I can leave in peace now."

His head slowly drooped, and he passed away in the company of Winters and the white lion.

……

In accordance with Brother Rhett's wishes, his body was cremated.

Winters and the white lion dragged logs one by one from afar to build a crematorium.

The high shaman also came, and he danced before the fire, offering the highest respect.

Brother Rhett spent his life as a monk, a Taoist priest, a priest, a religious scholar, and a mendicant monk, before being sent off by various shamanic groups.

After Brother Reid left, Erlun packed Winters's belongings.

"I'm sorry," Winters said, his heart breaking.

Erlun smiled and shook his head.

Guilt nearly crushed Winters, but he still had things to do.

When Winters stepped out of the tent, the lion cub was waiting for him, leading four horses.

"Come on, I'll see you off." The little lion said casually, "These four horses are for you and Charles; you can take turns riding them. Would you like to name them?"

"I can't afford it."

The little lion paused for a moment, then said, "No, no, that's fine. We won't name our warhorses, we'll just refer to them by their coat color."

"No, I never want to name a horse again."

The little lion led several guards and escorted Winters and Charles away.

Erlun chased after the man out of the felt tent, all the way up the hillside. Watching his retreating figure, she wept bitterly.

The white lion also came to the hillside. He wiped away his sister's tears and said gently, "Don't cry, Erlun. Let me sing you a song."

The white lion gazed at the horizon and softly sang:

"My beloved,
We have already crossed many mountains;

The one I weep for,

They have already crossed countless rivers;

I cried.
He won't even look back at me;
I want to find him.

But his path could no longer be found.

......"

This is a love song sung by a woman, but it is sung by the White Lion.

The white lion's song was mournful and desolate, its sorrow lingering long after it faded away. Birds circled around him, and cattle and sheep stopped to listen.

One must have experienced many sad things to be able to sing such a ballad.

After the song ended, the white lion whispered to Erlun, "If you miss him, go find him."

"But," Erlun stopped crying, only sobbing softly, "what about those who stay by the fire?"

"It's alright." The white lion pulled his sister into his arms and gently tidied her hair. "Brother always has a way."

……

The little lion escorted Winters all the way to the banks of the River Styx.

He first led Winters to pay homage to the strong luck.

Qiangyun rests in peace on a beautiful little hill, the slopes of which are covered with red and blue wildflowers.

There was no tombstone. When the little lion buried Qiangyun, he drove a stake into the ground, on which a horse was carved with a few strokes.

Winters gently stroked the stake, as if brushing against the side of Strong Luck's neck and his long mane.

He had no tears. He hadn't cried since he woke up from his coma, not even once.

Even if Brother Rhett passes away, even if it means parting ways with Erlun.

His ability to cry seemed to have been completely taken away.

The little lion and his guards, carrying sheepskin bags and wooden frames, quickly prepared the sheepskin raft.

Two guards went back and forth once to confirm that the sheepskin raft was usable, and then returned to report to the little lion.

The first to be delivered to the other side of the River Styx were four horses, followed by the Shire.

The little lion accompanied Winters until they finally reached the east bank of the River Styx.

"By the way," the little lion asked curiously, "I only know you're called Batu, but I don't know what your real name is."

"My name is... Deep Winter in the Mountains".

"Is your surname 'Qunshan'?" The little lion clapped his hands and laughed: "My father's tribe is called 'Wenduoer,' which also means 'mountains' or 'high mountains.'"

Everything had already been transported to the east bank: horses, food.

"You won't get lost, will you?" the little lion asked Winters with a smile. "There's no sense of direction on the grasslands, it's easy to get lost."

“I have this.” Winters took out Lieutenant Colonel Jessica’s map: “You won’t get lost.”

"That's good."

"This is for you." Winters took out another roll and tossed it to the little lion: "You might need it."

"what?"

“The map, I drew it,” Winters said softly. “The part of the Great Plains.”

"Okay! Thank you!" The little lion laughed heartily. "Let's go, deep winter in the mountains, let's go home."

The little lion bid farewell with reluctance yet unwavering resolve: "Never come back!"

Winters gently pulled on the reins and rode away, with Charles close behind.

One hundred and sixty-four wooden awls were carefully stored in the deepest part of his baggage.

[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
[A reader mentioned Winters's growth. He did indeed grow through setbacks, but not through the deaths of others.]

Brother Reid's departure didn't really bother Winters.

The old man has reached the age of 95 (he claims to be 95).

He ferried the last person across (not Winters), and then he himself reached the end of his journey.
(End of this chapter)