Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 234 Visitors
As dawn broke, Winters left the military camp to swim in the river west of town.

He swam two laps to warm up first, and then began to try diving to the bottom of the river.

When he got ashore, he found Bud waiting for him.

"When did you learn to swim?" Bud asked with a smile, sitting on Winters' clothes.

"self-taught."

Still practicing diving?

Winters' heart ached at the mention of it: "Our dear Lieutenant Cellini, in his excitement, threw his Grand Cross into the river. I'll feel around at the bottom; maybe I can find it."

"Why would you want to fish that thing out?" Bard said dismissively.

"What?" Winters roared in fury. "That's gold! If you don't want it, you should trade it for food! You should investigate Andrei's family history. I really don't know what kind of Venetians he is! Such a big piece of gold, and he just threw it into the river in a moment of madness, and I have to get up early to retrieve it."

Bard laughed heartily, revealing some wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

He handed the clothes to Winters: "There's something I want to ask you. I heard that in early July, an assassin broke into the Royal Castle Army Headquarters and killed Sackler. Was it you who did it?"

"Who spread rumors about me?" Winters roared in anger. "When have I ever carried out an assassination?"

“Yes, that’s good.” Bard patted the assassin’s arm reassuringly. “No matter who asks, your attitude in answering is enough. And…”

Bud's words were interrupted because Winters hadn't finished speaking: "I charged in through the front gate with a saber, and I charged out through the front gate. How does that count as an assassination? When have I ever carried out an assassination? I've always done things openly and honestly!"

Winters suddenly remembered the Monta gang at Ocean Wharf.

He repeated, slightly guilty, "When have I ever carried out an assassination in Palatine? I've always done things openly and honestly in Palatine!"

"Oh? So you've carried out assassinations elsewhere?" Bard sighed.

“Then don’t worry about it.” Winters turned his head: “Anyway, I’ve never done anything at Palatour.”

"Were any survivors?"

“I’m not a bad person. If he didn’t stop me, why would I kill him? But it was dark then, and no one could see anyone else.”

“No one can mistake your magic.” Bard sighed heavily. “In my opinion, this matter won’t end here. However, Kings’ Castle is thousands of miles away, and even if they know you’re in Wolf Town, they can’t reach you. Right now, there’s something more important—are you helping the disaster victims clear land?”

“Yes,” Winters said, pointing to the other side of the river with a hint of pride. “There’s newly cultivated land over there. They are landless tenant farmers and farmhands, and I have wasteland, cattle, horses, and plows. It’s a perfect match.”

Bard listened intently, then suddenly asked, "Do you know anything about the latest news from Maplestone City?"

“I know nothing. Before meeting you, I could only find out bits and pieces about the situation in Zhevodan.”

Bard smiled and said, "Maplestone City, I've been just as busy as you lately."

"The New Reclamation Legion is also recruiting refugees to reclaim wasteland?" Winters's eyebrows furrowed.

But he quickly realized, "It's not surprising. If they don't farm, they'll starve. Maplestone City can't just give porridge to refugees for nothing."

“That’s right. In Hailan and Drenthe, there are many ways to make a living; even begging can provide bread. But for farmers, if they don’t farm, they will starve. That’s the reality of their lives.”

Once people leave the land, they gradually forget that food comes from the ground—this was the case in Winters in the past.

"If you don't farm, you'll starve." Two years ago, he didn't feel this sentiment as deeply as he does today.

Tenant farmers and hired laborers fled in droves, which meant that a large number of laborers suddenly left production.

The snow-capped mountain has not collapsed because there is still surplus grain from last year and even the year before.

But sooner or later, an even greater disaster will befall this land, because the farmers who are still producing food simply cannot feed so many mouths.

It's either famine or popular uprising; it's not a choice between two options, and they might both happen at the same time.

Winters saw this and tried every means to restore production. He didn't want to see famine or chaos, so he turned to adding fuel to the fire.

Bard looked down and fiddled with the stone fragments in his hand: "They created war to drive away landless peasants. Then they recruited the refugees and distributed land for reclamation. From then on, the legion became the largest landowner in the newly reclaimed land."

“Impressive, no wonder he’s the one who wields the sword.” Bard looked up at Winters and said with a sneer, “But the Legion is the largest landowner in the newly reclaimed land, so it doesn’t really matter.”

The idea of ​​providing land for displaced people to cultivate was something that Captain Montagne could think of, and General Adams could think of as well, and probably even more deeply.

"You mean, all of this was done intentionally?" Winters asked, both surprised and unsurprised.

Bud got up, walked to the riverbank and skipped stones, saying slowly, "There might not have been a plan, it's very likely we'll just take it one step at a time. But what's done is done, we can only analyze the result."

Winters fell into deep thought.

Wolf Town is too small, has too few people, lacks potential, and most importantly, lacks time.

There was no time for him to build up his strength. The legion could tolerate officers’ corruption and incompetence, but it would never tolerate officers’ rebellion.

If the newly established army gains a foothold, Wolf Town will be reduced to dust with just a light punch.

That's why he wanted the dervordan.

If the Legion's strategy works, then as Senior Mason said, even Ghevordan won't be enough.

Bard sat back down next to Winters, picked up a stone as a chess piece, and asked, "In this back and forth, the landless peasants have land, the legions have tenants, and the self-sufficient farmers are still self-sufficient farmers. Whose interests have been harmed?"

“The manor owner.” It was too obvious; Winters’ answer was without hesitation.

"Therefore, the estate owners in places like Wu'ao Town and Blackwater Town have chosen to strongly support you, providing you with money and grain as needed, and even offering you hiding places."

Bard smiled and picked up the black stone representing the plantation owners: "They may not understand the deeper game, but it's obvious that their interests have been harmed. With all the farmhands gone, what land can the plantation cultivate? Land prices have fallen, which means their wealth has shrunk."

Winters nodded.

It was with the help of these "gentry" that his troops were able to move about mysteriously in the southwest of Zhevodan.

Besides providing supplies, the plantation owners could also provide intelligence. They had extensive local connections and a wide network of information channels.

“But they are not enough to prove anything.” Badyan threw the black stone into the river.

“There are too few people,” Winters said softly.

After the victory in the War of Sovereignty, the newly formed republics abolished all personal dependency relationships—slaves like Hart were not considered human—this was also a valuable legacy left by the old marshal's generation.

Although the plantation owners of the newly reclaimed lands were influential, that was all they were—influence.

They are quite different from the nobles of the old era who could mobilize large numbers of conscripted farmers when fighting wars.

"In my opinion, the New Reclamation Legion's approach is correct: loosen restrictions and recruit disaster victims to reclaim wasteland. Land prices will drop, but that won't affect the Legion. If they can create a large group of independent farmers, we will definitely be no match for them. We should go back to Veneta as soon as possible; I'll go do some small business with you," Bard said with a smile, spreading defeatist rhetoric.

Winters attempted to defend Veneta: "We Veneta people...are not all businessmen."

“Worse still, if we fail, we won’t even be able to do small business.” Bud’s smile grew even more intense: “So we have to follow the path of the New Reclamation Corps, and we have to be even more ruthless than them. We have to take bigger, more resolute, and more thorough steps.”

"More resolute?"

Bud pointed to the other side of the river and asked Winters, "It's the end of August now, and winter wheat will be planted in September. How many acres have you cleared?"

“This… I really don’t know.” Winters genuinely didn’t know.

"With just a few cows, a few horses, and a hundred or so men, even if we all worked ourselves to death, how many acres of wasteland could we possibly cultivate? Divided among the people, it would barely be enough to make ends meet. Expecting them to pay you taxes next year is wishful thinking! There might even be another famine next year! Even if we could cultivate some land, it would be the worst land in Wolf Town! Because all the good land has already been bought up!"

Bard's voice grew louder and louder, and his eyes grew brighter and brighter: "But right here in front of us, thousands of acres of the best farmland... are lying fallow!"

Winters was startled: "The land of the manors? That's their private property!"

“I know! We’re not going to take it for free. We can give them some rent and lease their land, then distribute it to the disaster victims. Why doesn’t the New Reclamation Army dare to do that? Because they are landowners themselves! If we want to defeat them, we have to follow their path, but even more resolutely than they have!”

Bard already had a plan in mind, and he patiently explained, "No matter how good the land is, it will become waste if it is left uncultivated for too long. It's just lying fallow anyway, and the landowners should be happy that someone is taking care of the land for them."

"And then what? They can't occupy it forever?" Winters retorted. "Wouldn't they then become tenants and farmhands again?"

"The most crucial thing is to reclaim the wasteland! The newly reclaimed land is not a province where all wasteland has been reclaimed; there is still room for further development!"

Bard pointed to the wasteland across the river: "It's too late to clear the wasteland this year! It might not even be enough next year! Wasteland won't magically turn into farmland; it takes time! Where does time come from? We can only make up for it by taking existing farmland."

Farming during the year and reclaiming wasteland during the off-season—this is what farmers have been doing for thousands of years. It's just that in newly reclaimed land, this natural process is artificially suppressed. And we, we simply need to rebuild it.

Winters was surprised to find that Bard was so eloquent.

"And then what?" Winters asked. "Will the land be returned to the estate owner?"

“We’ll talk about it later. I think it’s possible to return it.” Bard was very serious. “As long as enough wasteland is cleared, the land can be returned to the landowners. However, by then, it will be difficult for them to recruit enough tenant farmers and farmhands, unless there is a new influx of people or the population grows naturally.”

What if they disagree?

"Who disagrees?" Budd countered, then smiled and asked again, "Who disagrees?"

“Yes!” Winters suddenly remembered Brother Reid’s words and burst into laughter: “In the end, it all comes down to holding the hilt of the sword. If you hold the hilt, no problem is a problem. Let’s do it! I’ve never been afraid of anyone in a war.”

……

Bard took over the land reclamation work, while Winters focused on dealing with Gevordan.

As graduates of the same military academy, they knew each other too well, and things certainly wouldn't end there.

On September 21, six days after receiving news of the "complete annihilation" of Badr and Mason's 100-man team, Gérard received the news.

Ciel is back, and he's with the little lion cub.

Winters' last thought is to see guests, but guests always seem to arrive at the last time he wants to see them.

"Good luck, Batu." The little lion presented Winters with a saber as a gift and gave him a warm hug.

Besides the saber, the little lion also brought thirty horses, which were also gifts.

Winters felt a subtle unease as he hadn't heard the name "Batu" for some time.

"May you have good fortune too!" Winters gave the little lion a big hug: "How is your brother? How is your... sister?"

“Erlun? She’s fine. My brother, he’s fine too.” The little lion replied casually, “He’s been busy with registering the people lately, otherwise he would have come over in person.”

Winters' body stiffened instantly.

He composed himself and asked as naturally as possible, "Oh? Registered citizens? What does that mean?"

“It’s like registering households and treating everyone equally.” The little lion was clearly unwilling to elaborate on the question: “Just like you guys.”

When a guest arrives from afar, whether according to the customs of the wilderness or the etiquette of Plato, one should introduce them to family and friends.

Winters, with the lion cub, first went to the military camp to see Bud, Andre, and Mason.

Bard and Andrei still had a deep impression of the Hed slaves on Chiliu Island. They were also deeply saddened to learn of Winters' experiences in the wasteland.

Then, Winters led the lion cub to meet Anna, Catherine, Mrs. Mitchell, Scarlett, and other women.

Although the ladies were surprised to see a "barbarian" visit, they still treated the little lion with the utmost politeness.

The little lion speaks the common language and is very respectful to the women, but he is impolite in one one way:
When Winters introduced Anna as "my fiancée," he raised an eyebrow and scrutinized her closely, making Anna quite uncomfortable.

Winters' smile also became somewhat stiff.

The little lion sighed, "I know why Erlun lost."

The ladies keenly sensed the subtle emotions in the little lion's words.

Catherine's almond-shaped eyes immediately glared at Winters; if there hadn't been other guests, she probably would have attacked him on the spot.

Mrs. Mitchell shook her head helplessly, while Scarlett remained somewhat bewildered.

Anna frowned slightly, then smiled and asked the little lion, "Excuse me, who is Erlun?"

“He is my benefactor,” Winters answered first.

“I’m asking about Mr. Yahatch.” Anna’s smile grew even brighter.

Winters was all too familiar with that smile; the last time he saw it, he got a real slap in the face—but now that he thought about it, it wasn't such a bad deal.

"May I ask, who is Erlun?" Anna asked again with a smile.

The little lion swallowed hard and replied solemnly, "He is Winters' benefactor."

The matter was temporarily dropped.

As Winters left Mitchell Estate, he flattered Anna, boasting, "I made you a really beautiful easel, I made it myself. It's made of pine, light yet sturdy, you can carry it outside on horseback. I'll bring it to you tonight..."

“You must be careful, Mr. Montagne,” Anna said kindly, leaning on Winters’ shoulder. “I’ve brought the golden sword you gave me. If you betray me, I will do as you taught me—stab you hard.”

After saying that, Anna gently kissed Winters' cheek.

Winters, with the lion cub, fled from Mitchell Estate as if escaping.

Of course, the little lion didn't go to Wolf Town to visit friends.

He represents White Lion and is here to discuss a business deal, perhaps a large one.

After the polite hospitality, it's time to get down to business.

The little lion had just arrived in Wolf Town in the morning, and in the afternoon he held a closed-door meeting at the military camp.

"What do you want?" Winters asked bluntly.

Only Winters, Bard, Andre, and Mason were in the main tent; no one else was there, not even a recorder.

"What do you want?" The meeting was private, and the little lion was quite relaxed. He smiled wryly and said, "I want everything."

The Chihe tribe wanted everything: grain, ironware, cloth, oil...

The Hed Wasteland is surrounded by mountains to the north and south, with a harsh plateau to the west, and more mountains behind the plateau; there is only one exit to the east, which is strictly blocked by the Parat people.

Smuggling caravans heading to the wasteland were either money-making tools for the powerful and wealthy or spies for the Platonic army; most caravans held both identities simultaneously.

Even though the Hart tribes knew that the visitors were spies, they had no choice but to bite the bullet and continue their business.

The little lion spread his hands: "The grasslands produce nothing but grass; and they lack everything but grass."

His words contained some exaggeration, but were generally accurate.

"The key question is, what do you have?" the little lion asked rhetorically.

Winters blushed slightly: "We have nothing at all. Wolf Town has nothing but farmland, and lacks everything but forests. But we'll have everything in the future."

The little lion sighed: "I can see it now, you're rebelling... And what do you want?"

Bud and Mason smoked their pipes in silence.

“The Paratians you captured,” Winters said without hesitation.

The little lion nodded.

"And horses!" Finally, they got to the part that Andrei cared about.

Mason said slowly, "Horses, cattle, sheep, we need all these livestock."

The little lion nodded again.

Winters simply took out a quill pen and started calculating the score for the little lion:
“Veneta once said, ‘Only gold can be sold thousands of miles away.’ Only goods with high profit per unit weight and volume can be transported long distances. Wolf Town produces nothing, and Iron Peak County only has a little handicraft industry. If your brother wants to use Iron Peak County as a smuggling window, it’s actually not very suitable.”

Iron Peak County is not directly connected to the grasslands of the Red River Tribe. Transporting supplies from other places to Wolf Town and even Rewodan, and then to the Red River Tribe, is essentially a roundabout way.

Goods transported from Venetta and the United Provinces to Palatour are usually shipped by water. This already involves going upstream, and then detouring by land, which drives up costs significantly. Furthermore, the poor road conditions in Iron Peak County further increase costs.

For inexpensive goods like fabric, shipping costs are already one to two times the value of the goods themselves. If a longer route is taken, the shipping cost could reach three to four times the price of the goods.

Winters concluded, "We must produce and process as much as possible in Iron Peak County before sending it to the wilderness to keep prices low. If the Red River tribe wants to sell raw materials such as leather outside the wilderness, they must first perform rough processing themselves, transport them to Iron Peak County, and then perform fine processing. Ideally, they should be finished products when they leave Iron Peak County to be competitive."

I have already sent men to scout the land route [Iron Peak County - Veneta], if…

Winters launched into a long and detailed explanation of his business acumen, much to the surprise of Andrei and Bader.

Mason might not know, but Andre and Bard know Winters inside and out.

Winters Montagne, a man who couldn't even keep track of his accounts, never kept track of how much he spent.

He doesn't even haggle when he goes shopping. He pays whatever price is quoted. If he thinks it's too expensive, he just turns around and leaves.

He has some understanding of business, simply because he grew up in Hailan and Guitu City and was exposed to it from a young age.

But I've never spoken so eloquently before.

Andrei and Bader stared at Winters, their eyes questioning.

Winters noticed their gazes, coughed lightly, and casually explained, "Miss Navarre told me."

“I understand what you mean. You want to open a furnace and smelt iron in Tiefeng County, then sell it to us in exchange for people, horses, and hides. Isn’t that what you meant by telling my brother about the iron mine?”

The little lion leaned back in his chair with a carefree attitude: "Actually, we also know that there is hematite in the Hanlan River. My brother even sent people to explore for minerals upstream. The problem is that the grasslands lack fuel for iron smelting, and there are no blacksmiths either."

“The newly reclaimed land has forests, a very large forest.”

"But according to you, the farther the transport distance, the higher the cost. Have you considered how far it is to transport the iron ore from the upper reaches of the Hanlan River to here?"

Winters waited for the little lion to say the next word.

The little lion's earlier words were all about lowering the price; his real message was at the end.

"The White Lion has a suggestion for you." The little lion sat up straight and said seriously, "You should give the blacksmiths you have to the Red River Tribe. If they are truly master craftsmen who know how to open a furnace and smelt iron, my brother is willing to help you redeem the prisoners."

The little lion looked at Winters and slowly emphasized, "Not just the prisoners in the hands of the Red River Tribe, but all the prisoners. Aren't you going to rebel? These prisoners are all veterans. If you rescue them, they will be willing to die for you."

Upon hearing this, Andrei was somewhat tempted, as they had far too few veterans at their disposal.

The Jesca Battalion was part of the militia and suffered heavy losses in the Battle of the Great Wilderness.

Upon returning to Palatine, seeing that the authorities were reluctant to disband the troops, many militiamen who had been temporarily conscripted fled home.

In the end, only three officers and forty-seven soldiers remained in the Jessica Battalion—all homeless and miserable men.

The three hundred-man squads brought back from Zhevodan were rebuilt using the old JSKA battalion's core members plus new recruits from Zhevodan.

Their combat capabilities have not yet been tested, and Winters and the others are not very optimistic.

The only piece of good news was that Zhevodan's troops were equally, if not worse, in terms of combat effectiveness.

Winters didn't say anything, but reached out and poured a glass of water for the little lion.

“I guess not, but it’s never a bad thing to try.” The little lion clicked his tongue. “Even if we can mine iron ore, have you considered how to transport it here? That’s quite a distance.”

Winters smiled, revealing a row of neat teeth: "Water transport."

The little lion squinted.

"If we can mine iron ore, we'll take the waterway. From the Hanlan River into the Jinliu River, it's all downstream. The Jinliu River is upstream to Tiefeng County, but we can use a tow rope. I've seen boatmen pull boats; a dozen or so people can pull a large boat. You have plenty of animal power, so you don't need people."

Your Chihe tribe also needs to contribute; ideally, you could occupy the wasteland west of the newly reclaimed land. Although I don't know whose territory it is, it certainly isn't yours. Controlling the entire route is crucial to ensuring the safety of transportation.”

“Water transport might be feasible, although it would still be somewhat troublesome.” The little lion suddenly sighed, “But—the western side of the newly reclaimed land is an uninhabited area. Do you know whose territory is west of the uninhabited area?”

Winters suddenly had a bad feeling: "Who is it?"

“The fire-warmers.” The little lion’s expression was complicated: “From the newly reclaimed land westward, across the no-man’s land, all the way to the Ert River to the west, it’s all the grasslands of the Teldun tribe.”

The tent fell silent for a moment.

Winters walked silently to the bookshelf and returned with a map in his hand.

The map was laid out in the center of the table, and several people sat around it.

Senior Mason traced the waterway with his fingertips and said, "If we go through the no-man's-land, we won't go directly through Teldun's territory."

Winters knew he wouldn't go directly through Teldun's territory, but the key question was whether Teldun would intervene.

In the hundred-kilometer-long uninhabited area, Heder rode swiftly like the wind, and could reach into the fire whenever the person wanted.

If the person warming themselves by the fire doesn't agree, the business is likely to fall through.

“We still need to keep it a secret, as secret as possible.” Winters was a little annoyed. He gritted his teeth and said, “I’m going to do this business. If Monkey Butt Face doesn’t agree, let him ask my knife first.”

"Report!" someone shouted from outside the tent, interrupting their conversation.

Winters put away the map, glanced at the little lion again, and then got up and left the military tent.

A sentry waited outside the tent.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Sir, an officer has arrived from Zhevodan," the sentry replied somewhat flusteredly. "He specifically requested to see you."

[This chapter includes a map, "Iron Peak County Map Version 1.03," which will provide a clearer view.]
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(End of this chapter)