Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 228 Temple
Early in the morning, the convicts of Wolf Town were taken to the church ruins and cleared the rubble under the supervision of the militia.

The militia members were not only responsible for supervision, but also participated in the reconstruction work, doing some of the lighter tasks.

The charcoal mud and soot must be shoveled away, the burnt wood must be cleaned up, and the usable stone slabs and bricks must be picked up and taken to the river to be washed clean.

Wolf Town is very small; you can count all the buildings on one hand.

The church became lively, and the town center instantly resembled a bustling construction site.

Building a church is a grand event wherever it is held, and for many believers it is even more sacred and glorious than building water conservancy projects or paving roads.

Therefore, everyone worked exceptionally hard, even the "slave laborers" who were forced to do manual labor.

However, the Montagne resident official did not appear on such an important occasion.

The person in charge on site was his deputy, Mr. Little Cher.

It wasn't that Winters was deliberately avoiding it, but rather that the fire was already burning at his eyebrows, and there were more pressing matters that needed his attention.

While everyone was busy clearing the ruins, in the Wolf Town military camp across the road, a man with bloodstains on his clothes was awakened by a bucket of cold water being poured over his head.

"Name, affiliation." The questioning voice was cold, almost as if it weren't asking a question.

The man was still in shock, and his eyes had not yet adjusted to the light.

He stared blankly at the interrogator, then immediately took a solid punch to the ribs—only then did he realize that there were two other interrogators in the dimly lit room.

"Name, belonging."

The man gasped in pain, and with difficulty, he stammered, "I am... I am Sergeant Gulashi from the Revodan Garrison..."

"Evidence," the indifferent voice continued.

"Sir... how could you not recognize me?"

The lighting was poor, but Gulahi could still make out that the other person was wearing an officer's uniform.

In fact, he had already recognized the uniform during the battle last night.

Most importantly, Gulahi had been a soldier for over a decade, and he could recognize the other person's tone of voice, attitude, accent, and demeanor at a glance.

Having lived in the United Provinces for many years, the orthodox officers would unconsciously speak with a slight Guido accent, which couldn't be faked.

Even Gulashi failed to realize this; he simply heard the other person speak in an officer's "tone."

"Clothes don't prove anything." The officer remained unmoved: "Bandits can wear officer's armor too. Who is the commander of the Zhevodan garrison?"

A glimmer of hope ignited in Gulahi's heart. If the other party wasn't bandits, he still had a chance to survive: "It's still Major Ronald, always has been."

"Everyone knows Major Ronald."

"And Captain Epel! Lieutenant Akos! Lieutenant Elek!"

"Belong."

Gulahi desperately announced all the information that could prove his identity: "I am Gulahi, a member of the Gendarmerie at the Zhevodan Garrison. Many people know me..."

The interrogator waved his hand, and the person next to him punched Gulashi hard again.

Gulashi was in so much pain he was almost convulsing, which made him even more certain that the other person was an officer. And a legitimate officer, not some charlatan.

"What do I ask and what do you answer?"

Gulahi nodded vigorously.

"You are a military police officer."

"Yes." Gulashi dared not say anything more.

"You're a military police officer, why are you running?"

"I..." Gulashi said somewhat aggrievedly, "You chased after me first, that's why I ran..."

After saying this, Gulashi unconsciously curled up, preparing to take another punch.

The expected fist did not fall.

Only the voice continued to ask, "You were lurking around Wolf Town, spying on things, why didn't I chase after you?"

Gulashi vaguely realized that the other party was actually very easy to talk to.

So he spilled everything he could: “I didn’t come to spy on you, really not! You have to believe me. About twenty days ago, a collection team was robbed, and the escorting soldiers escaped back to Zhevodan. Major Ronald ordered us to come and investigate. I came all the way here and saw houses being built in the town, so I got curious and wanted to take a look… Now nobody’s building any houses, which I find really strange…”

"us?"

"Several grain robberies have occurred in Tiefeng County in the past two months. The lieutenant commander has dispatched the entire military police force to investigate wherever there is a case... It really is a misunderstanding..."

The other party interrupted Gurahim: "Whose orders does Revodan take now?"

Gurahim paused for a moment, then answered softly, "I'll listen to the Legion, Maplestone City, General Adams."

"That's enough." The interrogator stood up and calmly delivered his verdict: "You are still a prisoner and will be kept in solitary confinement. I will go to Zhevodan to verify your identity, after which you can leave."

"Thank you, sir!" Gula was overjoyed to have his life saved; compared to that, going to jail was really nothing.

Winters left the prefab house and headed towards the main tent, with Samukin following behind him.

"Are you really going to Revodan, sir?" Samukin asked worriedly. "I'll go with you."

Winters smiled and explained the reasoning to Samukin: "Whether we go to Revodan or not, we have to keep him calm first. Give him some hope, otherwise he will definitely want to run away."

"Then why not just kill them?" Samukin asked matter-of-factly.

“He knows something. Keep him around, he might come in handy,” Winters explained. “Isn’t that guy Ivan locked up too?”

In reality, soldiers of this rank have very limited knowledge; Winters simply didn't want to kill indiscriminately.

"Then... should we make them work?" Samukin asked.

A total of six military police scouts arrived, which was exactly one cavalry unit.

However, their combat effectiveness was worrying. Three of them were killed on the spot during the battle and pursuit, and the rest did not escape and were all taken prisoner.

When they returned to Wolf Town, the seriously wounded man had also died, leaving only Gulahi and another lightly wounded military policeman.

Winters was somewhat troubled: "I don't want them to come into contact with other people."

“Just keeping them locked up and not letting them work,” Samukin said somewhat unhappily. “Isn’t that just a waste of food? I think it would be better to kill them.”

Hunger had seeped into the very marrow of the Wolf Town militiamen. After all, even the militiamen had to work and hunt to have anything to eat, and they were still not full.

The prisoners, however, could sit still and wait for food to be brought to their mouths—although they only received two bowls of porridge a day, it still felt somewhat unfair.

Looking at Samukin's youthful and simple face, Winters felt a strange sense of emotion.

Less than a year ago, Samukin Sopkin was an honest and simple farmer.

He works from sunrise to sunset, attends church on weekends, and one day he will marry, have children, and be buried by his descendants in the Wolf Town Cemetery.

But Samukin can now say things like, “They can’t work, I think we should just kill them.”

And it sounded so convincing that Winters even considered killing them all—he was hungry too.

In chaotic times, human life is truly less valuable than grass.

“No.” Winters patted Samukin on the shoulder. “We’re not bandits, we’re an army. Even if we’re going to kill, we’ll do it openly and honestly. The lack of food isn’t enough grounds for a death sentence, and it’s not a valid excuse. Anyway, there are only three, so lock them up for now.”

“Yes.” Samukin nodded emphatically.

He didn't quite understand what the centurion meant, but he did whatever the centurion told him to do without hesitation.

Winters had a flash of inspiration and said with a smile, "Since we can't give them ironware, let's give them some bundles of straw, hay, and branches. Let them weave baskets and straw sandals, and they won't get anything to eat if they don't weave. No work, no food! I have to pull the big saw and chop wood, but they can eat for free. It's really unfair."

Samukin smiled, revealing two rows of uneven teeth: "Yes, I'll take care of it."

"Don't set your goals too high on the first day," Winters said with a smile. "Take it one step at a time, gradually build up the numbers."

"Yes, I understand, don't worry." Samukin's eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he readily agreed.

Samukin left, leaving Winters alone in the main tent.

Winters' mind was filled with many unrelated yet interconnected things, and he needed to sort out his thoughts little by little.

In a remote border town where you haven't seen a single unfamiliar face for months, three groups of people suddenly arrived in one day—or rather, four groups.

Each group of visitors alone would have given Winters a headache, but fate is cruel; they not only came, but they all arrived at the same time. The most pressing matter was the scouts from Ghevordan; the garrison's military police tracked them all the way to Wolf Town, but fortunately, they were discovered by the sentries set up by Winters.

First came a lightning-fast battle, followed by a relentless pursuit throughout the night. Winters ultimately dispatched all six scouts without letting a single one escape.

Through interrogation, and based on the fragmented information from before, Winters deduced two things:

First, the political stance of the New Reclamation Army Corps was ambiguous; it neither chose the Blue Rose nor the Red Rose. Furthermore, the New Reclamation Province itself had not yet split and remained united under the banner of the New Reclamation Army Corps.

According to information Winters had gathered, three groups had previously entered the newly reclaimed lands to requisition grain and harvest wheat. Winters was initially puzzled as to who the third group was besides the Red and Blue Roses. Now it seems to be General Adams's New Reclamation Army.

Secondly, Revodan had not yet noticed the unusual activity in Wolf Town, and did not even know that he was still alive, so naturally he had no plans to attack Wolf Town—for the time being.

Winters acted very cautiously, and apart from "ambushing the grain requisition team," everything he did did did not exceed the authority and responsibility of the "garrison officer."

Militia?
The garrison officer had the right to conscript militia.

Suppress bandits?

The garrison officer was originally responsible for maintaining order and cracking down on bandits.

Force bandits into hard labor? Hold bandits on public trial?
Local judicial power is also in the hands of the officials stationed in the towns.

Cross-border law enforcement?

This is really none of Revodan's business. If anyone should be involved, it would be Blackwater Town that would file charges first, but Blackwater Town is too happy to even think about it.

It is no exaggeration to say that the garrison officers on the military territory of Palatine held a position akin to feudal lords.

Based on Winters' actions, Gevordan should not only not punish him, but should also award him a medal weighing a ton—not including the fact that he hijacked the grain wagons.

Currently, the conflict between Winters and Ghevodan seems to stem from only one point: Ghevodan wants food, but Winters doesn't want to give it to them, because if they did, the people would have no way to survive.

There is another, less noticeable, and non-direct point of contention: the land belonging to the Paratul military was given to refugees for cultivation.

As for when Revodan will discover that the robbery of the grain requisition team is related to Wolf Town?

Winters believed it was only a matter of time.

A convoy traveling on the main road cannot go unnoticed; the villages and towns along the way are all witnesses.

However, Wolf Town is too remote, and Winters is too careful in his "crimes," so he has not been exposed yet.

Recently, due to the lean season, Revodan did not send any more grain requisition teams to Wolf Town, so a second conflict was not triggered.

Moreover, according to the military police sergeant's testimony, the robbery of the grain requisition team had occurred more than once, and other cases had distracted Zhevodan.

However, Winters met with the officers at the Gevordan garrison.

He visited Major Ronald's home, where Captain Epper and other senior officers warmly welcomed him.

Those alumni were all intelligent people who had received the same education and training as him.

In fact, Winters believed he had been exposed. He had been in Gévordan's sights when he intercepted the scouts.

Gevordan might play dumb, or he might try to let it go, or he might throw a heavy punch; Winters doesn't know what he'll get in return.

However, Winters already has some plans, thanks to Father Kaman.

The information Kaman brought back was invaluable; he had been with the remnants of the expeditionary force, so... Winters had to go to Gervodan.

As for Father Carmen's church, its importance is currently slightly higher than "finding some milk-inducing food for the Mitchell family's hunting dogs," but far less than "the blacksmith's charcoal supply is currently insufficient," so Winters simply handed it over to Pierre to take care of.

I had just thought of Pierre when he arrived.

“We need you to go to the church.” Pierre rarely spoke nonsense these days.

"What's the matter?" Winters asked dismissively. "It's just building a wooden shed for Kaman to use for now, isn't it?"

Pierre smiled slightly: "The groundbreaking ceremony still needs you to attend."

The military camp and the original site of the church were separated by a dirt road, less than 20 meters apart.

Winters and Pierre soon arrived at the construction site.

“We’ll have to ask you to drive in the first stake.” Pierre scratched his head. “We’re not qualified enough.”

Winters had nothing to say. He took the stone hammer and slammed it down hard on the "first stake".

"Alright!" Winters threw down the stone hammer and clapped his hands. "Let's get to work."

The groundbreaking ceremony lasted less than ten seconds.

The militiamen and slave laborers were stunned for a moment, then picked up their tools and got back to work, and the once silent church site became noisy again.

“Ha, I wonder what that old man Anthony would think if he knew that it was me, a magician, who drove the first stake into his church.” Winters suddenly felt a bit amused.

This time, Pierre was speechless.

“But these convicts work very hard for the church.” Pierre looked at the slaves washing stones by the river and suddenly said with emotion, “If only they could work this hard on ordinary days.”

Winters scoffed: "After all, it's about pleasing the gods. More sweat in life, less fire in death, right?"

[Note: This refers to purgatory.]
Hearing such a harsh yet incisive comment, Pierre wanted to laugh but dared not.

“I was just building a wooden shed, but it seems there’s actually something going on.” Winters looked at the blackened stone walls of the church and suddenly asked, “Can the mortar and plaster still be used after they’ve been burned?”

This question stumped Pierre, who smiled wryly and said, "I don't know either; you'd have to ask a stonemason."

The old church in Wolftown is divided into two parts: an older stone structure and a more recently expanded wooden structure.

After a fire, the wood was burned away, leaving only the stone walls, which were of unknown age. Even the plaster and murals on the walls were burned off.

"Are there any stonemasons in Wolf Town?" Winters asked.

“There isn’t one in Wolf Town.” Pierre shook his head. “You have to go to Gévodan. In the past, you had to go to Gévodan to hire stonemasons to build big houses.”

Stonemasons are not only stonemasons, but also architectural designers and contractors.

“Let’s build a wooden roof for Kaman first,” Winters sighed. “Be careful, tell me immediately if any cracks appear in the walls.”

Winters is currently too busy to draw up blueprints for Kaman, so Kaman's church has been temporarily downgraded from "beautiful" to "just a makeshift wooden shed roof built on an old wall."

Winters watched the “labor convicts” working hard for the church’s reconstruction and suddenly had an idea.

He called softly, "Pierre?"

"Is that so?" Pierre tilted his head slightly.

"Tell me, is hope important or not?"

"It must be...very important."

“It’s very important. Hope is essential for survival.” Winters sighed. “We also need to give these convicts some hope, otherwise they’ll just be there to get by, forced to work, and they won’t put in any effort.”

“These convicts are all… from the Valley of Saint-Giss,” Pierre said somewhat awkwardly.

The crimes committed by the gangs in the San Gisso Valley were so heinous that, given Winters' previous temperament, every single one of them would have been killed.

It was precisely because he chose to execute them "openly and justly" that these accomplices were spared their lives.

“I’m not thinking about them, but about our own interests. Their hard work is good for us.” Winters made up his mind: “We have to give them some hope. We’ll set a number for their crimes. For example, a thousand days. Once they’ve worked a thousand days, we’ll set them free.”

Pierre always grasped things quickly. He narrowed his eyes slightly and pondered for a moment before saying, "We also need an evaluation standard to distinguish between good and bad. For example, if a prisoner works hard for eight hundred days, we will set him free. If he doesn't work hard and just coasts through a thousand days, then he still owes us a thousand days."

“Good! Well said. We’ll call a meeting tonight and discuss this in more detail.” Winters thought for a moment, “Isn’t this turning into Lieutenant Mason’s labor ranch? Heh, we need to give the ‘days’ a name, how about ‘workdays’?”

Pierre pondered for a moment and said, “Workdays aren’t accurate. Sometimes it’s ten hours a day, sometimes it’s six. How about we make it precise to the hour and call it ‘working hours’? Any convict can regain their freedom as long as they complete the prescribed working hours—provided they don’t waste time.”

“Good, let’s call it working hours.” Winters clapped his hands and laughed. He said excitedly, “I’ll go back to the main tent now, write this down, and draft a few rules first.”

"Please wait a moment." Pierre's expression was somewhat subtle. "Sir, have you forgotten something?"

"whats the matter?"

Pierre said slowly, "My home..."

"Oh no!" Winters exclaimed.

He went out last night with his sword, pursuing the Zhevodan scouts all night, only returning at dawn. After that, he immediately began interrogating the two prisoners, and continues to this day.

Anna is still waiting at Mitchell Estate!
[My wife is no match for my job.jpg (facepalm)]
[Winters was in a real bind, so he left Anna hanging all night...]
[The timeline of the Great Wilderness War has been updated at the end of Volume 2. Interested readers can refer to the end of Volume 2.]
[This chapter contains two maps: one is a map of Tiefeng County, and the other is an aerial view of Wolf Town. The maps are very basic; interested readers can find them in the chapter notes.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)