Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 227 Reunion

A visit to Mitchell Estate would certainly require some preparation.

So Winters first took a bath in the river outside town.

He has now learned to swim and enjoys swimming very much.

Because the burden on his left leg is not as heavy in the water as it is on land, it can relieve a lot of soreness.

Cleanse your body and shave.

Winters took off his tattered lumberjack clothes and carefully took out a washed and ironed officer's uniform from the bottom of the box.

There are several places on this uniform that have been mended, and although the person who mended them is very skilled, it is still noticeable.

To outsiders, it looks like a military officer's uniform.

To the experts, it is actually the summer uniform of military academy cadets.

This summer uniform was the same one Winters wore when he was brought to Palatine.

Regular officers had to purchase their own uniforms, but no one in Venetia made a Palatour uniform—except for the “vain” Lieutenant Andrea Cellini.

Even Andrei's cavalry uniform was deliberately chosen to have a red waistband and blue trim, which was different from that of Paratu's cavalry.

When Winters was preparing her winter wardrobe last year, she had a cashmere coat made.

But under his coat, he still wore his old summer clothes as a form of protest.

After returning to Wolftown, Winters always wore hunting attire.

The hunting suit was not only comfortable, but also had many, many pockets—which Winters, as a spellcaster, liked very much, and the hunting suit would not reveal his identity.

As a result, the old summer clothes were relegated to the bottom of the trunk.

It was only because it was going to Mitchell's house for dinner today that it was able to see the light of day again.

It would be impolite to visit empty-handed, but Winters didn't have any suitable gifts—he couldn't very well bring money, could he?
After thinking it over, he brought two rabbits and a few bunches of wild roses, and went to their door.

The Mitchell Estate at sunset is tranquil and beautiful, always giving Winters a sense of warmth.

Gerard's four hounds smelled the rabbit blood from afar and rushed out to greet him.

The hunting dogs not only didn't starve, but they also had a litter of puppies. However, because the mother dog wasn't getting enough to eat, her udders were shriveled and she had no milk.

Ellen couldn't bear it, so she took the puppies back into the house and raised them, feeding them goat's milk.

The four hounds thus returned to Mitchell Estate.

The hounds were thrilled to smell Winters' scent.

They didn't dare pounce on Winters, nor did they dare snatch the rabbit. They just wagged their tails frantically, running around Winters in circles, and trying to lick his hands in a fawning manner.

Winters was always overwhelmed by the dogs' enthusiasm. He held up the rabbit and reassured the dogs, "Don't fight over it... wait until autumn, I'll take you hunting in the fall."

But the dogs didn't understand what Winters was saying and thought he wanted to play with them.

They became even more excited, and one of them even urinated out of excitement.

"Enough!" Scarlett ran to Winters' rescue, shooing the hounds away with a stick: "Bad guy! Bad dog!"

The hounds walked away sadly with their tails between their legs.

“Thanks to you, Miss Mitchell.” Winters breathed a sigh of relief. “Is Mrs. Mitchell here?”

Scarlett blushed slightly and took Winters' arm: "Everyone's been waiting for you."

Ms. Michal was almost looking like a boy; she wore a ponytail and trousers—something almost unimaginable for a "decent" lady.

Ellen waited for Winters on the porch.

She took the bouquet and smiled faintly, "Beautiful roses, Mr. Montagne."

"Really?" Now it was Winters's turn to blush. "Actually, I didn't even know it was a rose..."

He picked these flowers casually from the roadside, and they left him with several small wounds.

“Then you must be careful, roses have many meanings, and you can’t just give them away casually.” Ellen invited Winters in: “The tableware is already set, just waiting for you.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Winters laughed heartily, casually loosening his belt. “But I could smell the stewed chicken from far away.”

Winters handed the rabbit to the maid and went into Mitchell's mansion.

Another guest was sitting at the table, and Winters could hardly believe his eyes.

"Good evening, Mr. Montagne," Father Carmen greeted him politely with a gesture of respect.

Winters paused for a moment, then strode over to Kaman and gave the priest a bear hug.

This unexpected and enthusiastic welcome left Father Kaman speechless.

He was at a loss, his arms stiffly raised, looking to Mrs. Mitchell for help.

“Mr. Montagne is very pleased to see you,” Ellen said with a smile. “Father Carmen.”

Kaman sighed and patted Winters on the back with a look of disdain: "Alright...alright."

Scarlett, arm in arm with her mother, watched the "touching" scene before her with a smile on her face.

Winters released his arm, grabbed Kaman's shoulder, and asked in surprise, "Why are you back?"

Kaman smiled wryly and moved Winters' hand away: "Why can't I come back?"

"I mean... how did you get back?"

“I am a clergyman,” Kaman said casually. “Naturally, if I want to return to my parish, I can return to my parish.”

Winters pressed impatiently, "Do you know where the others are?"

“Some people have been separated from me, and some have been called by the Lord.” Kaman’s eyes dimmed slightly. “I came back on my own.”

"Where is Mr. Mitchell? Did you run into him?"

Kaman shook his head: "No, I've already told Madam. I didn't meet Mr. Mitchell."

"Sit down and let's talk," Allen said gently. "The soup will get cold soon."

The four people sat down at the dining table.

Mr. Mitchell is not home, and Mr. Little Mitchell is on duty at the military camp, so the head seat is empty.

The four sat facing each other, with Scarlett sitting next to Winters and Father Carman and Mrs. Mitchell on the other side.

"About Priest Antoninus," Winters comforted Kaman. "I'm so sorry."

Kaman calmly made the gestures of respect, uttering the words often used by clergy: "Brother Anthony is not in pain; he is now with the Lord and has eternal life. As for the gold and silver sacrificial vessels, those are not important."

Winters was at a loss for words.

He had a vague feeling that even though the Wolf Town church was reduced to ruins, Kaman was not as heartbroken as he was.

“By the way, Mr. Montagne,” Ellen said, looking across the table at Winters with her light blue eyes, “Father Carman and I have discussed something, and we hope you can lend a hand.”

“Please speak freely,” Winters replied solemnly.

“Could you send some people to rebuild the Wolftown Church?” Allen added kindly, “Of course, I won’t let you do it for nothing. Father Carman and I have a solution that will benefit both of us.”

Winters blushed slightly, coughed lightly to cover his embarrassment, and quickly explained, "No need... you don't need to mention payment to me..."

Winters cleaned up the cemetery, repaired the roads, and rebuilt the blacksmith's shop, town hall, and sheriff's office.

But he ignored the church in Wolf Town, leaving it as a scorched wasteland.

He had to build prefabricated houses for the militia and prepare shacks for the refugees; how could he have the leisure to rebuild the church?

Winters not only ignored the church, but he also seriously considered demolishing the remaining stone walls of the church to build other houses—stone is a good thing, how could it be wasted?

However, considering the building's significance to the people of Wolftown, Winters wisely refrained from digging up the church's base.

However, since Mrs. Mitchell and Father Carman had made the request, Winters naturally agreed on the spot.

He had no shortage of manpower or building materials, so rebuilding the church was not a difficult task.

Mrs. Mitchell and Carman made only this one request, and then it was just a regular dinner time.

The group chatted comfortably, and Mrs. Mitchell always knew how to extend the conversation at just the right moment.

Father Kaman seemed uninterested, engrossed in eating his food.

After the initial excitement of the reunion subsided, Winters looked at Kaman and suddenly realized that he was sitting in front of a divine magic user.

Moreover, he was a "friendly" user of divine magic.

At least Kaman didn't kill him to silence him, and he doesn't seem like he'll try to do so in the future.

Winters was almost trembling with excitement; his legs were shaking under the table.

The way he stared at Kaman even made Scarlett's expression turn strange.

However, Winters remained rational and cautiously refrained from speaking rashly, continuing his dinner in silence.

“We need to think of a way, at least we need to draft an experimental plan first.” Winters unconsciously stirred the soup bowl with a spoon: “Not now, at least not.”

He immediately decided that he would go back tonight and start drawing up the blueprints! Construction on the church would begin tomorrow! He promised to make the church in Kaman beautiful!
Winters' thoughts had already drifted to the heavens: "The general's notes have a few pages of conjectures about divine magic, what were they again? I can't remember! Is divine magic within the general's system? Or outside of it? I need to design experiments to verify it! Sigh, but I need equipment! Where am I going to get equipment? Build it myself? What can I build with the conditions in Wolf Town? I..."

Scarlett gently touched Winters' leg.

Winters snapped out of his reverie to find that he had already stirred the soup onto the table.

Mrs. Mitchell's crochet tablecloth has been stained in a large part by him.

Scarlett quietly handed him a napkin.

"Sorry, I was distracted for a moment." Winters smiled wryly, wiped his hands, and then went to wipe the tablecloth.

"It's alright, you can leave it there." Ellen didn't mean any blame. "I'll clean it up. But if you don't savor my soup, I'll get angry."

……

Dinner ended in a relaxed and pleasant atmosphere.

Winters, leaning against the wall, strolled to the living room—what the Mitchell family's maids used to call "the gentlemen's room."

The Mitchells' chaise lounge is still in the living room, spotlessly clean.

In the past, Winters and Girard would come here after dinner.

Girard would open the window, lie comfortably in his chair, and carefully fill his pipe.

He would first take a deep breath, and then leisurely exhale a little bit of mist.

Winters doesn't smoke, but he also enjoys the feeling of being full and lying still.

Sometimes there were other guests: Gerard's old friends, the two priests from the church, and owners of other estates...

After Pierre's name was added to the roster, Girard began to tacitly allow her son to attend "gentlemen's time."

But now, the room is empty, with only a few deck chairs and Winters remaining.

Winters sighed, opened the window, and slowly lay down in the chair.

He ate his fill, so much so that he felt a pang of guilt.

While his men were still subsisting on coarse black bread—and even that wasn't enough to fill their stomachs—he enjoyed a delicious meal at Mitchell's house.

Ever since he reunited with his old comrades, he has been cooking with the troops.

He ate whatever the militiamen ate.

Sharing joys and sorrows is easier said than done.

The initial enthusiasm was quickly worn down by the bran crumbs in the bread, and afterwards it was all about willpower to persevere.

But Winters held firm. We're all human; if the soldiers can eat, there's no reason he can't.

He gradually adapted to the true nature of this world, and when he ate whole pieces of bran, he no longer spat them out, but chewed them and swallowed them directly.

However, he still missed Bélion very much. The blacksmith had a special skill: he could make even the worst ingredients taste delicious.

Most people only have the ability to make bad ingredients even worse.

Winters couldn't help but wonder, "Shouldn't we set up a separate department specifically for preparing meals?"

However, that would make the military's organization bloated.

One major aspect of the old marshal's military reforms was to reduce the size of the army: eliminating attendants, eliminating all unnecessary auxiliary troops, and lightening the burden on the supply troops.

Soldiers were responsible for carrying tents, weapons, and food, so the army would not lose its fighting capacity even without auxiliary soldiers.

So Winters was also undecided.

“Perhaps I can give it a try,” he thought. “Anyway, there are only three arrows now, so it’s easy to correct any mistakes.” Just as he was lost in thought on the deck chair, Scarlett quietly entered the living room.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Ms. Michaël asked, her face slightly flushed. "The room is all ready."

Winters has been living with the troops during this period.

"No need for that. I'll just go back to the military camp in town."

Scarlett nodded, neither insisting nor leaving.

She boldly sat down next to Winters, looked him in the eye, and said, "Bottayun should give birth to her foal in the third or fourth week of August."

"Okay."

Scarlett's gaze shifted to Winters' body, and she casually asked, "Do you know why it's called the Botta Cloud?"

"Why?" Winters suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

Scarlett has gradually grown from the shy, timid little Scarlett who didn't even dare to speak into Ms. Mitchell.

He had an older brother-like affection for Pierre, and naturally looked at Scarlett as if she were a little sister, always seeing Ella's shadow in her.

But he suddenly realized that this was not his biological sister after all; Scarlett was not Ella. Her demeanor was even more mature, resilient, and independent than Ella's...

Winters' body language betrayed him; he instinctively retreated away from Scarlett.

All along, he had actually projected Ella onto Scarlett.

For siblings who have grown up together since childhood, even the slightest thought of physical desire can make them feel disgusted.

Winters suddenly felt nauseous after realizing that Scarlett had become a woman.

Scarlett looked Winters over: "The Dusa people call horses by their coat color. Botta was an ancient noble rank. Botta means a good horse that is as white as a cloud."

“Oh? You name horses by their coat color? The Heard people do that too.” Winters coughed lightly and stepped back. “Where did you learn that?”

“The story my father told me…” Scarlett gently leaned down: “You can stay the night.”

Winters shook his head frantically.

“Then here!” Scarlett bit her lip and suddenly stood up.

"What...what are you going to do?" Winters' forehead was beaded with sweat.

“Of course it’s for you…” Scarlett grabbed Winters’ trouser leg and untied the measuring tape from her wrist: “…to take your measurements.”

"Oh..." Winters breathed a sigh of relief, then exclaimed in surprise, "Even the measurements won't work!"

Scarlett's eyes blinked.

Winters explained sincerely, "I don't need any more clothes. I've already troubled Mitchell Manor too much; I really don't have the dignity to trouble you any further..."

"It's alright, I'm happy to sew your clothes."

"No, it really won't work."

"I will learn tailoring."

"It's not a question of whether you can or can't..."

No matter what Scarlett said, Winters kept refusing.

Suddenly, Scarlett felt a lump in her throat and buried her face in the deck chair, bursting into tears.

If there is anything in the world that can frighten Winters, it is a lady's tears.

"What happened to you?"

“Why?” Scarlett cried, “Why do you always reject me? Am I that bad? I…”

“That’s not it.” Winters was at a loss. He tried to reason with her: “You’re only like this to me… because Wolf Town is too isolated, and I’m a new face to you. When you grow up, when you leave Wolf Town, you’ll meet many more and better men, all of them gentler and more considerate than me…”

Scarlett cried even harder: "Are you saying I'm not faithful, that I fall in love with every guy I meet? I'm not! I'm not!"

Winters' words not only failed to appease Ms. Mitchell, but also caused more serious harm.

“I have a fiancée,” Winters sighed and whispered to Scarlett, “She’s waiting for me.”

This reason is valid, but the first half of it is a lie, because Anna was not engaged to Winters.

The second half may have been a lie before, and it's even more of a lie now, because Anna won't wait for him anymore; he broke Anna's heart.

Scarlett's eyes were swollen from crying: "Your fiancée is far away, but I'm right in front of you. I can be your fiancée too, and I'm willing to take you away."

Winters was at a loss for words.

After a long silence, the sobbing gradually subsided, and Winters took out a handkerchief and handed it to Scarlett.

"Do you really have a fiancée?" Scarlett asked, sobbing. "Or are you lying to me? Making excuses for me?"

“Yes.” Winters suddenly felt very sad, and his nose tingled with tears. “I’ll show you her portrait.”

He took off the locket and carefully opened it.

Anna was there, a slight smile playing on her lips.

He hadn't opened the locket in a long time because he couldn't look Anna in the eye.

Scarlett took the locket and gazed at Anna with her tear-reddened eyes: "She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is beautiful."

Winters awkwardly tried to wipe away Scarlett's tears.

“I will grow up to be just as beautiful,” Scarlett said defiantly.

“No…” Winters smiled bitterly, “No one can compare to her.”

Upon hearing this, Scarlett's tears, which she had already stopped, began to flow again.

"Don't cry...don't cry..." Winters was at a loss for what to do: "I..."

A sudden commotion broke out at Mitchell's mansion, and Winters looked warily toward the source of the sound.

A heavy footstep was approaching from the corridor—if Winters wasn't mistaken, it was a man.

Father Kaman's footsteps didn't sound like that.

At this moment, there will be no third man at Mitchell Manor.

Winters gently put his arm around Scarlett, protecting her behind him.

His gaze swept across the four walls of the living room as he searched for weapons.

"Boom!"

The door to the living room was opened.

"Here he is!" a familiar voice shouted. It was Gold: "My lord! Look! I've brought him here!"

A slender figure entered the living room.

The figure was dressed in men's clothing and wearing a hat, but Winters would never mistake him for someone else.

It's Anna.

It's Anna Navarre.

Winters' pupils dilated sharply, his body stiffened, and he even lost consciousness.

Scarlett was startled to realize that the brave knight beside her was trembling—trembling involuntarily.

Winters gazed at Anna, and the pure white moonlight buried deep in his heart gently shone upon him at this moment.

But why was she so sad? So desperate?

Winters didn't understand.

Anna Navarre looked at Monsieur Montagne, at the strange girl's red, tear-filled eyes, at the messy deck chair, and at Monsieur Montagne holding the strange girl's arm.

The two seemed to have traveled through time and space, returning to the Mercenary Corridor.

It was still him, it was still her; he was still wearing that old uniform, and she was still wearing men's clothing.

But everything changed.

She abandoned everything and came to the ends of the earth, disregarding everything else.

But this is the result.

Didn't she anticipate this situation? Of course she did.

She had thought she would be heartbroken, would leave, return to Hailan, marry another man, and take revenge on the unfaithful man.

But at this moment, all she felt was anger. Grief and despair fueled her rage, and she trembled uncontrollably with rage.

Her mind was filled with one word, a word she had never uttered aloud—"you little slut!"

"You, how did you get here?" Winters finally regained consciousness.

"Of course!" Anna almost bit her lip to the point of tearing it: "Yes! I'm here! To! Elope! With! You!"

The small living room was deathly silent.

A clear, melodious female voice came from behind Anna: "Hmph, where is the famous Mr. M? I..."

A girl dressed in men's clothing, who looked similar to Anna but was more radiant, peeked out from behind Anna's shoulder.

Upon seeing the scene in the living room, her smile vanished instantly.

Without saying a word, she took Anna's right hand and started to leave.

"No!" Winters lunged forward and grabbed Anna's left hand. He had already realized what was happening, but he was now speechless: "No!"

The strange girl snapped angrily, "Let go!"

“[Old saying] Seeing is not believing.” Winters ignored the other person and stared straight into Anna’s eyes. He could not let Anna leave like this.

Scarlett wiped away her tears and walked gracefully to the Navarre sisters: "You've misunderstood."

"Shut up!" the stranger girl shouted, even more furious.

Suddenly, another commotion broke out at Mitchell Manor.

This noise was more urgent and dangerous than the previous one.

There were not only heavy footsteps, but also the neighing of warhorses, the crisp sound of boot tacks hitting the floor, and the sound of scabbards slapping against the hem of clothing.

"Scouts!" Pierre rushed into the Mitchell estate, with Anglou and Vahika following behind him.

As soon as Pierre entered through the main gate, he roared as he searched for Winters: "Scouts! Scouts of Gevordan!"

How did everyone end up at the same time!
Winters gritted his teeth, took Anna's hand, and kissed it.

His eyes were wide open, as if he wanted to rip his heart out and show it to Anna.
His gaze met Anna's: "Wait for me to come back!"

Anna didn't speak, she just nodded gently.

“Gold!” Winters roared the name of the culprit.

Realizing he had caused trouble, the old pirate trembled in fright: "Sir?"

"You brought them here! You're responsible for taking good care of them! No one is allowed to leave!"

"Yes."

Taking the saber from Pierre, Winters strode towards the door:

"Let's go! Let's go and meet the scouts of Jervodan!"

Outside the door, the Dussacs pounded their chests and cheered loudly.

The sound of horses' hooves gradually faded into the distance until it could no longer be heard.

(End of this chapter)
……

Special document: Letters received by Madame Navarre

Material: Parchment
Above is a line of beautiful cursive text

A: I'm sorry, Mom, I have to go on a long trip. Love, your daughter.

Below are a few crooked letters.

K: I'm going too!

[This chapter includes a map of Tiefeng County; please find it in the chapter comments. I will be posting this map several times in the near future to ensure no reader misses it. This is the current setting.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
[What a cliché plot (facepalm), but I've been looking forward to getting to this point for so long.]
[Update late today, but with a lot of words, over 64. Is this compensation?]
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(End of this chapter)