Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 250 Contempt
The soldier of the 200th Regiment of the Iron Peaks Infantry [Peter Bunier] didn't know where to go, and his centurion [Tamas] forbade him to ask any further questions.

The word "Bunnier" means "short" in the old language. Seeing that he was short, an officer who got a headache from hearing the name "Peter" angrily registered him with this fitting nickname.

Before setting off, everyone received a wooden stick, and even the short man received one.

The centurion strictly ordered everyone to bite the wooden stick like a horse with a bit, and not to let it fall out, or they would be whipped.

Without any pre-battle speech, the centurion, his face grim, uttered only one sentence: "Whether you are worth three hundred acres or not, we'll see today!"

After saying that, he waved his hand.

Biting the wooden stick, the dwarf shouldered the spear and set off.

The group was traveling through the forest, where there were no roads, and they could easily get separated if they were not careful.

The dwarf's squad of soldiers had followed the centurion through the old forest twice before, their purpose unknown at the time, but now it seems they were probably preparing for today.

The dense foliage of the trees not only made marching more difficult, but also gave many people the opportunity to desert.

The dwarf watched helplessly as his companions dropped their weapons and ran into the chestnut grove, disappearing without a trace.

But the short man didn't run away; he didn't dare, and he was thinking about those three hundred acres of land.

So he quickened his pace to catch up with the people ahead of him.

The group eventually stopped in a grove of trees, not knowing where they were, what they were going to do, or what the enemy was.

The centurion ordered everyone to lie down, and he whispered in each of their ears:
"As soon as the bugle sounds, charge forward! Kill anyone you see who isn't wearing a red scarf! Three hundred acres! Remember that! Three hundred acres!"

They were getting serious. The dwarf lay on the ground, his mouth dry and his hands and feet numb.

He was a timid and honest farmer who had spent his whole life working the land and had never even slaughtered a pig, let alone killed a person.

Murder will send you to hell!
But three hundred acres, that's three hundred acres... I wouldn't even dare to dream of it.

He longed to hear the bugle call, yet he feared it.

After waiting for an unknown amount of time, the urgent bugle call finally reached his ears.

A deafening battle cry erupted from the forest, and many people, gripping their spears, impulsively charged out.

The dwarf lay motionless on the ground, his limbs unresponsive to his commands.

He was genuinely terrified, terrified to death.

During his time serving as a soldier for the previous high-ranking officer, he only received two pieces of black bread each day.

So when he laid down his weapons and surrendered, he felt no burden at all.

On the contrary, not having to fight made him feel very relaxed.

In addition to bread, he also received three silver shields for serving this high-ranking official.

The silver coin was currently hidden in a secret pocket close to his body, making his ribs ache.

But what are three silver coins worth compared to a life? People really do die in war!

The dwarf wasn't sure he'd get to Heaven; he wasn't very devout and had never donated to the church. Even with the most optimistic expectations, a trip to Purgatory was inevitable.

Even if God is lenient and allows him to go to heaven, it's still best to go as late as possible.

Besides, whether he goes to war or not, he already has the three silver shields in his pocket...

He also received a land grant, which he carefully placed together with his silver shield.

The dwarf wanted land like crazy, but he hadn't actually gotten any yet.

The 300 mu only exists in descriptions; the dwarf never erected boundary markers, marked ditches, sowed seeds, or harvested anything.

No one pointed to a piece of land and told him honestly, "This is your land, it doesn't belong to anyone else, it's yours."

"What if they're lying to you?" A voice inside the man desperately tried to persuade him: "Who knows if they'll really give you land? What kind of lord would be kind? Hide here! Wait until the war is over before you go out!"

Another voice kept chanting, "Three hundred acres! That's three hundred acres! Let's go for it!"

Suddenly, the dwarf felt a burning pain in his back.

He turned around, and Centurion Tamas's furious face came into view.

Tamas, wielding a grapevine whip, lashed the short soldier lying on the ground, roaring like thunder: "Coward! Trash! Charge! Use your pig eyes to see! We're going to win! Charge and we'll win! Charge and we'll get three hundred acres for free! You wouldn't even take three hundred acres if they were given to you for free!"

The dwarf screamed in agony as he was beaten, his body curled up into a small ball as he begged for mercy.

Centurion Tamas lashed out repeatedly, the vine whip snapping in two with a crack.

Tamas's arm was trembling as he hurled the remaining half of the vine whip at the short soldier, reaching for his sword: "I'll give you three hundred acres and you won't take them! Fine! Fuck you! I'll kill you right now!"

The dwarf dug his fingers into the dirt and struggled to get up.

Pain, shame, greed, fear, hatred... his mind was being stirred into a complete mess.

"Ah!!!" A chilling, piercing scream erupted from the dwarf's chest as the honest farmer, his eyes bloodshot and his hands bare, charged out of the forest: "Devil! Die! Three hundred acres!"

The rest of the cowards, whether infected by the dwarf's fervor, fearing military law, muttering about the three hundred acres, or a combination of all these, stood up, panting heavily.

"Those are all devils ahead! Devils who have come to seize your land! Kill them! Killing devils is not killing people!" Tamas roared fiercely, brandishing his saber. "Anyone who dares to step forward, I'll kill them right here and now!"

"Kill!" Everyone's faces were contorted with rage as they charged toward the demon's lair.

……

Don Juan was never afraid of war; on the contrary, war excited him to the point of addiction.

But this was the first time he felt anxious.

The enemy's deployment was very organized, with their camp surrounded by double-layered wooden palisades and sentries deployed well in advance.

In order to conceal his movements, Juan had to set up his attack position a mile away.

However, he still ran into an enemy sentry. Fortunately, the sentry was also startled and was killed before he could give a warning.

For a charge distance exceeding one mile, not to mention how much strength the soldiers would have left by the time they reached the enemy, very few people could even run one mile in the forest without deviating from their course.

So Don Juan was taking a huge gamble, with the disadvantages of a reckless raid on one side of the scales, and the enemy soldiers' weak fighting spirit and Moritz van Nassou on the other.

The original plan was to wait for the enemy to split their forces and then launch an ambush in the wilderness between Hammerburg and Jervodan.

However, the enemy commander was unusually cautious and fought in a very methodical manner.

Your mother, Juan, was unsure whether the enemy would divide their forces again.

By observing the enemy's several failed attacks on Hammer Fortress, Lieutenant Don Juan concluded that the enemy's morale was low and they lacked the will to fight.

So he decided to adopt a more dangerous battle plan—to annihilate the enemy in front of Hammerhead, regardless of whether they split their forces!

Successfully intercepting Colonel Gaisa's messenger gave him a golden opportunity.

Don Juan did not propose "taking the opportunity to behead someone," perhaps because he hadn't thought of it, or perhaps because he was unwilling.

But Lieutenant Colonel Moritz himself proposed this dangerous plan.

Moritz, a lieutenant colonel, voluntarily risked his life to assassinate the enemy commander, which surprised everyone.

Don Juan was deeply moved.

“It’s just a matter of using their own methods against them.” Moritz chuckled as always. “They can send spellcasters disguised as messengers to assassinate people, so we can try it too.”

Juan ran wildly through the woods, carrying his military knife, silently praying, "I hope nothing happens, Lieutenant Colonel."

He rushed out of the forest and found himself in a bright and open space. Just as he had expected, only a few people followed him and ran precisely to the side of the enemy camp.

The formation of the Tiefeng County Infantry Regiment had been shattered after a mile-long cross-country charge.

Many soldiers ran out of the forest and stood on the road, only to find that the enemy camp was still three or four hundred meters away from them.

Some soldiers even ran behind Hammerlocke.

Juan roared, "Pull out the stakes!"

He was the first to rush towards the wooden fence, and the other soldiers, as if waking from a dream, followed suit.

Wooden stakes carried by the army were driven into the ground with a gap of two fists between them, the pointed ends pointing outwards, forming a wooden fence—a textbook example of temporary camp defense.

The enemy had two concentric wooden palisades, one inside and one outside.

Just as Don Juan pulled a two-person-wide gap in the outer wooden fence, the enemy troops in the camp rushed over.

Enemy court officials, including Juan, drew their bows and fired arrows.

The enemy's bows were weak, and the arrows flew erratically, but they still terrified the soldiers of Tiefeng County.

Arrows whizzed past them, and they all turned and ran.

Don Juan roared in anger, "I didn't run away! What are you running for? You're the supervisory team!"

The supervisory team didn't respond to him because they too had scattered.

Enraged, Don Juan raised his sword and grabbed a fleeing soldier, intending to personally oversee the battle.

A howl, unlike any human voice, came from the forest, startling everyone, friend or foe alike, including Don Juan.

The howling grew closer and louder.

A short soldier burst out from the branches, bare-handed—no one would have guessed that the chilling battle cry would come from such a small man.

The short soldier rushed between the two wooden fences and frantically pulled out the wooden stakes.

The enemy shot arrows at him, but he did not dodge.

"Devil!" he roared, pulling out a stake. "Die!"

Many of the fleeing soldiers from Tiefeng County stopped in their tracks.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Don Juan finished what he had to do. He killed the deserter with a single blow and shouted, "Cowards in battle! Kill them on the spot!"

More and more Iron Peak County soldiers emerged from the forest.

Most people didn't follow Don Juan's charge from the beginning; it was easy to lie down, but difficult to stand up.

So they lay on the ground, hoping to endure until victory or defeat.

It was only through the scolding, whipping, and three hundred acres of land by the centurion and his soldiers that the terrified soldiers rose up and joined the battle.

The fresh troops, along with soldiers who wanted to escape, charged into the enemy camp. For troops lacking willpower, numbers are a form of courage.

Seeing that they were surrounded by their own people, even the most timid soldier suddenly felt a surge of courage.

The soldiers of Tiefeng County rushed towards the fence, following the short soldiers as they pulled out the wooden stakes.

"Shout! Shout the fuck out loud!" Don Juan roared.

Despite his intense emotions, Don Juan remained remarkably calm.

He knew that both sides were a motley crew, fighting solely on sheer momentum.

If you can act like you're winning, you really will win!

Don Juan raised his still-dripping sword and led his soldiers in a shout: "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

"Kill!" The soldiers of Tiefeng County pulled out the outer ring of wooden stakes.

"Kill!!" The soldiers of Tiefeng County pulled out the inner circle of wooden stakes.

"Kill!!!" The soldiers of Tiefeng County surged into the enemy camp like a flood.

"The garrison commander of Vaughan is dead!" Don Juan suddenly realized something was wrong: "Surrender and you will be spared!"

"Die!" roared the soldiers of Tiefeng County, their eyes bloodshot. "Kill!"

……

When Richard Mason, who was in charge of defending Hammerburg, arrived with his artillery, the Iron Peak Infantry had already broken through the palisade and stormed into the enemy camp.

The two sides fought a chaotic battle between tents and campfires.

Without uniforms, it is almost impossible to distinguish friend from foe.

Most of the soldiers fighting each other had no armor; a sharp sword could draw blood with a light slash, and a spear could kill with a single thrust to the chest.

Amid screams, shouts of killing, and pleas for mercy, someone cried out hoarsely, "Those wearing red scarves are rebels! Red scarves! Rebels!"

Beside the gap in the wooden fence, Mason found the anxious Don Juan.

The latter had two soldiers hold his legs and lift him up, watching the battle with a solemn expression.

"Where is the lieutenant colonel?" Mason asked as soon as they met.

"I don't know," Juan said, biting his lip.

"How's the battle going?!" "Very bad!" Don Juan's handsome features were contorted as he gripped his scabbard tightly. "There's no way to escape; they're all stuck inside. This battle is going to be a disaster!"

Two armies squeezed into a small camp: the Iron Peak County soldiers fought with their blood and courage, while the Vogne County soldiers had nowhere to run.

The soldiers in front screamed and stabbed wildly, while the soldiers behind pushed them toward the enemy's weapons.

Both sides were terrified, and fear can drive people to the survival instinct of "fight or flight".

At this moment, "fighting" is suppressing "fleeing," so the two armies are locked in a stalemate.

But even the slightest disturbance can cause the balance to tilt irreversibly.

Juan jumped back to the ground and immediately demanded of his senior, "Where's your cannon?"

“We’ve brought all the ones that can still fight.” Mason pointed to the log-like objects his men were carrying.

"Alright! Wait for my signal, fire all at once! Fire where there are the most people, don't worry about friendly fire, just keep bombarding!" Juan waved his arm and ordered the soldiers he could still command: "The rest of you, follow me!"

Before he finished speaking, Juan ran around the wooden fence to the north, and the soldiers followed him, not knowing why.

"Where are you going?" Mason shouted at his junior's back.

Don Juan headed straight for the camp gate without looking back.

……

Winters deliberately spread rumors that Captain Mason and Lieutenant Bard, who were in charge of relocating the refugees, had already left Ghevodan.

In reality, only Bard went to relocate the people, while Mason secretly led troops to build a "new" Hammerhold.

During this period, Mason also improved the wooden cannon.

The original wooden cannons required long, straight, and thick timbers, and needed to be tightened with iron rings, making them too troublesome to manufacture, and in practice, they could only be used a few times.

So Artillery Captain Mason gave up on the pursuit altogether and went straight to building disposable second-generation wooden cannons.

Large timber is hard to come by? Then make do with small pieces, like logs a foot in diameter.

Too much trouble to put on iron rings? Then don't put on any. You can just use it once and then use it to chop firewood.

If the wood is thin and doesn't have iron rings, it's prone to exploding. Then use less explosive.

The final "product" is these "wooden cannons" that resemble sections of logs.

It was called a cannon, but it was actually a large wooden matchlock gun.

They didn't even use lead or iron pellets—there wasn't that much lead or iron to waste—but rather crushed stones.

It's difficult to kill enemies with Mason's second-generation wooden cannon; it's more about making a sound and then spraying the enemy's face with splatter.

The extreme cost-cutting resulted in pathetic power, but the cost was also extremely low—in short, it was just drilling a hole in the wood.

So Captain Mason produced hundreds of them in one go, and he's still making more.

Nowadays, the limitation on the size of the Mason artillery unit is no longer the number of cannons, but the shortage of gunpowder...

……

There were no high grounds around the garrison camp in Vaughan that could be used to set up artillery, and the range of disposable wooden cannons was short.

Mason was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

Looking around, there was nowhere to set up the cannon.

He gritted his teeth and ordered, "Hold it down and fight!"

The artillerymen froze, and no one made a move.

Even with reduced propellant, these crudely made wooden cannons would occasionally explode.

Holding a firecracker in your hand and then setting it off is like committing suicide by drawing lots.

Seeing that no one made a move, Mason snatched a wooden cannon from his subordinate: "I'll do it!"

He held the wooden cannon and stood on something he could tiptoe on to barely reach a higher position.

But holding it was still too low, so Mason simply picked up the wooden cannon and carried it.

His men were too frightened to speak.

Holding the cannon while firing it could cause it to explode and potentially sever your hand.
Carrying a cannon while firing it could cause a fatal explosion.

Juan had already circled around to the main road on the north side, opened the camp gate, and was waving his flag frantically at Mason.

"Light it!" Mason roared.

The soldiers dared not move.

"Light the fire!" Mason roared.

A "gunner" with a large red birthmark on his face silently lit the fuse of his wooden cannon and stood on a stepping stone, carrying the cannon.

With a loud "boom," smoke billowed out.

Anything that uses gunpowder, even if it's not a cannon but a firecracker, has a far greater impact than a bow and arrow.

The people fighting in the camp were all startled by the loud noise.

Mason strode through the smoke and saw that his old subordinate with the red birthmark on his face was still alive, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The person with the red birthmark was pale, blood was flowing from one ear, and their hands were trembling uncontrollably.

He threw away the still-smoking wooden cannon and coughed violently.

Mason suddenly realized how foolish he had been; what was the point of setting off a cannon to shoot someone?

With the range of this wooden cannon, how many people could it hit?
Making a sound is enough!

"Put them on the ground and beat them!" Mason suddenly realized: "Put them all on the ground and beat them!"

The wooden cannon has now been completely reduced to a firecracker.

A series of booming sounds rang out outside the fence, causing the melody of the bloody battle to pause for a beat.

Smoke filled the air, and soldiers from both sides couldn't tell which side was firing the cannons.

"Vonne County has fallen! The garrison commander is dead!" At the camp gate, Juan shouted in unison, directing the soldiers around him: "Surrender and you will not be killed! Run!"

"Victory—Victory!" Mason commanded his men, who chanted rhythmically in unison, "Victory—Victory!"

The soldiers of Iron Peak County quickly understood what was happening, and they roared enthusiastically in sync with the beat: "Victory—Victory!"

"Run! North! Home!" a soldier from Vaughan County cried, pointing at the camp gate.

The ferocity and courage of both sides seemed to have been drained in that brief pause, and the soldiers of Vaughan fled toward the camp gate and toward their homes.

The soldiers of Tiefeng County did not stop them. Just now they were able to stab each other with their spears like madmen, but for some reason they could not stab anymore.

"We haven't lost yet!" Captain Salai, the chief centurion of Vaughan County, shouted in grief and anger, "We haven't lost yet! Come back!"

Captain Lysa raised his saber, trying to stop the rout.

Suddenly, a soldier in the crowd behind Lysa fired a dark silver coin, which struck Lysa squarely on the back of the head.

Leisa collapsed to the ground, coughed up blood, and then lost consciousness.

……

Winters, on the other hand, was unaware of the situation at Hammerhead.

He couldn't remotely control the troops from hundreds of kilometers away.

Winters also had full confidence in Juan's military talent.

The vast battlefield was roughly divided into the Eastern Front and the Western Front. Winters was in charge of the Eastern Front, while Don Juan had absolute command of the Western Front.

Moritz and Juan are Winters' most powerful secret weapons.

Don Juan has just achieved a great victory, but Winters is encountering some minor troubles: the enemy from White Mountain County is coming very quickly.

While in Lujiao Town, he received news that "the enemy troops have turned back to reinforce."

Before he could leave Deer Horn Town, another scout returned with news: "The enemy is building a pontoon bridge at an astonishing speed."

Based on the situation within White Mountain County, Winters concluded that the other side had been prepared for this.

Three teams of 100 people each quickly assembled in the town square.

Facing the soldiers, Winters ruthlessly ordered, "Throw away everything you've captured!"

Soldiers were often underfed, poorly clothed, subjected to harsh military law, and forced to fight desperately. Robbery was one of their few means of venting their frustrations.

Or rather, postwar looting had become a "sacred and inviolable right" for soldiers.

Winters abhorred this, but he couldn't eradicate the tradition overnight.

He could restrain his soldiers from looting, arson, and rape. As for petty theft, he turned a blind eye.

Upon entering the wealthy town of Lujiao, the soldiers all made a small fortune.

Some soldiers have even changed into new clothes and shoes, which look both ridiculous and pathetic when mixed with their old clothes.

Everyone was very reluctant to hear Winters' order.

"Throw it away!" Winters repeated the order, a rare occurrence for him.

His old men—centurions and soldiers—no longer hesitated, and took out coins, cloth, silver knives and forks, exquisite small porcelain items and other odds and ends from their backpacks, and resolutely threw them on the ground.

With the centurions and sergeants taking the lead, the other soldiers followed suit.

But they were really reluctant to part with it; some even cried while throwing it away.

A beautiful silver fork—many soldiers from impoverished backgrounds never used one in their lives; they couldn't even afford steel ones, only wooden ones.

They knew robbery was wrong, but their desire to "take this home" was so strong.

Meanwhile, Andrei was leading his cavalry to sweep through the bakeries, taverns, and all other possible food storage locations in Deer Horn Town.

He kicked open the baker's shop door, brandishing a military knife: "Take it all!"

The fierce-looking cavalry immediately began ransacking the baker's house.

"Sir! This isn't my bread!" the baker cried out. "I baked it for someone else! How am I supposed to explain this to you if you take it away!"

Andrei tossed a bag of silver coins to the baker.

The baker weighed his money bag in his hand and nodded, swallowing his anger.

Winters, seeing the soldiers clear away all the unnecessary items, went into the ranks and inspected them one by one.

He also found the "spoils of war" in the backpacks of the six soldiers.

"Throw it away." He repeated the command for the third time.

The six men obediently threw away what they had stolen.

Back at his unit, Winters told his men directly, "The enemy is coming. Speed ​​is of the essence. Take nothing but weapons, rations, and ammunition! Don't be greedy for such petty gains. The money from the treasury of Deer Horn Town is being carried by the cavalry; everyone will get a share after the battle!"

The soldiers went from sorrow to joy, and those who were particularly heartbroken suddenly burst into laughter through their tears.

Andrei's cavalry returned to the town square and distributed the bread, salted meat, and other portable food and drink they had collected to the people.

Shedding their burdens and replenishing their supplies, Winters waved his hand, and the troops left Deer Horn Town, continuing their march towards Iris Castle.

Winters didn't know how things were going on Juan's side, but the longer he tied down the enemy, the more room there was for maneuver on the western front.

Therefore, even knowing that the enemy was well prepared, he still chose to continue the feigned attack on Iris Flower Fortress as planned, in order to distract the enemy as much as possible.

As he left Deer Horn Town, a scout reported: "The enemy's pontoon bridge has been completed."

Winters didn't say anything.

He led his troops less than five kilometers out of Lujiao Town when another scout reported: "The enemy is traveling lightly and quickly, and their vanguard is only fifteen kilometers away from Lujiao Town."

The White Mountain garrison moved with astonishing speed, like hounds that had caught the scent of blood, chasing straight toward Winters.

"Well, I see." Andrei also figured it out, and he laughed heartily: "So they were just waiting for us to jump to the outside, wanting to devour us."

“There’s no need to go any further. If I’m not mistaken, the militia in the towns of White Mountain County have already begun to assemble. We’ll run into obstacles no matter where we go.” Winters looked at the map, his brow furrowed.

Andrei yawned, completely oblivious to the fact that he was surrounded.

“The garrison commander of White Mountain County… does he think I recklessly barged into his territory without any preparation?” Winters Montagne was utterly baffled.

He laughed in anger: "This guy, he's fucking contemptuous!"

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(End of this chapter)