Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 252 Adaptation
Instead of returning directly to Ghevordane, Winters made a brief stop on Camelson Street to regroup his troops.

Andrei and Barth Sharing, who were leading the horses, were the first to return.

The more than seven hundred mare were divided into several groups, each led by a very jealous foal.

Even a brisk walk can raise clouds of dust, and when they run, their momentum is astonishing and a magnificent sight.

"Damn it! We've struck it rich!" That was the first thing Andre said to Winters when they met.

The former grabbed the latter's shoulder with tears welling up in his eyes, almost bursting into tears.

The harvest at the Nanshan Military Horse Farm far exceeded Winters and Andre's wildest imagination.

Baishan County is not known for producing horses; it is Leiqun County, further east, that is where fine horses are produced. Leiqun means "a herd of ten thousand horses moving like thunder."

Therefore, Winters didn't have high expectations.

He would be content if he could acquire a hundred horses.

If we could get two hundred horses, we should have a big celebration.

As a result, Andrei brought back more than 700 mares and hundreds of foals of varying ages.

Larger foals follow their mothers, while smaller foals that cannot travel long distances are pulled by carts.

Not only the horses, but even the horse handlers were captured by Andrei.

Without horse herders, Andrei's men alone simply couldn't manage such a large herd of horses.

Thus, a strange scene appeared in Tiefeng County: cautious horse herders were tending their horses, while Tiefeng County cavalrymen were herding their horses.

It's a pity that a certain bald middle-aged man worked hard for many years to accumulate wealth, only to have it all go to someone else for free.

"Sigh! It's no fun! They're all mares." Andrei said with great regret, "It's such a waste to use them in war; there isn't a single proper warhorse!"

Look how terrible human greed can be.

Not long ago, Andrei was all smiles about capturing three military horses.

Now that he had seized over a thousand horses in one go, he sighed deeply.

Winters, however, was not dissatisfied at all. He was overjoyed to have gained a thousand horses for free.

But the large herd of horses also worried him: "Winter is coming soon, and we need to quickly prepare a place and fodder for the horses to spend the winter. There are thousands of horses, big and small... I'm afraid we can't take care of them all."

Andrei remained optimistic as always: "Let Senior Mason raise them."

Lieutenant Cellini never cared about raising animals, only riding them.

“Mason alone probably won’t be enough.” Winters smiled knowingly. “Bring Bard along too.”

Captain Montagne, too, "didn't care about raising them, only about riding them."

The burden was thus easily pushed out, and the captain and lieutenant, feeling relieved, happily went to see the foal.

……

After waiting all day on Camel Pine Street, Winters' centurions and sergeants gradually arrived to meet him.

The troops that were once scattered have now been reunited.

The soldiers were physically exhausted, but their fighting spirit was even stronger than when they set out.

“How is it?” Winters asked his other centurion [Gale].

"I want to sleep." The other person answered honestly, "I want to eat meat."

Winters laughed heartily: "Back to Gervodan, slaughter pigs and sheep!"

Of the twelve iron arrows fired, only nine returned.

Three more arrows may return, or they may never return.

After leaving a backup on Hump Street, Winters gazed one last time in the direction of White Mountain County before setting off again.

Instead of returning directly to Ghevordan, Winters led his troops on a detour to Hammerburg—the current location of the Iron Peak County Infantry Regiment—where they successfully rendezvoused with Mason, Juan, and Moritz.

It wasn't that Winters wasn't in a hurry to go home; he was simply going crazy missing Anna.

However, the mess left after the war was more troublesome than the war itself: the wounded needed to be treated, the battlefield needed to be cleaned up, the captured supplies needed to be inventoried, and the soldiers' merits needed to be confirmed.

None of the above are major problems, because the military has its own procedures for dealing with them.

The most troublesome problem for Winters right now is the prisoners.

“Don’t say thank you.” Lieutenant Don Juan casually propped his legs up on the table. “I’m not fighting for you because of you, so you don’t need to give me any special gifts to thank me. A fine horse or some gold will do.”

"Thank you so much, senior." Winters' expression was complicated.

The original battle plan was to contain the enemy forces in Baishan County and repel the enemy forces in Vaughan County.

Winters executed the diversionary mission on the Eastern Front perfectly.

However, the western front was turned into a battle of encirclement and annihilation by Don Juan.

Ziber's entire army was wiped out; some died, some fled, and the remaining 1,300-plus men were all captured.

There may be some garrison troops left in Vaughan, but the field forces have been wiped out.

Today, Vaughan is like an egg with its shell peeled off, revealing the fragile egg white inside.

On the surface, Vaughan County is at the mercy of Winters.

In fact, further north beyond Vaughan County lies the Maplestone City district—the heart of the Legion.

In other words, the road to Maplestone has been opened, and the heart of the Legion is laid bare before Winters's forces.

What Winters least wanted to do was provoke the New Reclamation Army.

The New Reclamation Corps is a clumsy, massive, and bureaucratic machine, but when it faces mortal danger, its counterattack will be swift and fierce.

"That's settled then! The battle's already over." Winters, with no worries about the debt, laughed and saluted Don Juan and Moritz: "Senior, Lieutenant Colonel, a thousand men annihilating two thousand, that was a brilliant battle!"

Lieutenant Colonel Moritz silently sipped his drink.

“You don’t even know who’s in command.” Juan’s expression was equally indifferent, but he couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes: “That’s pretty satisfying. In Veneta, even a colonel wouldn’t have the opportunity to command a force of this size.”

"If you stay, you can command as many troops as you want in the future."

Don Juan snorted coldly, a hint of loneliness appearing on his handsome features: "I'm just waiting for news of your father. I can't kidnap you, and neither can the lieutenant colonel. Let's see what other methods the corps commander has! Once the new orders come down, I'm still going back to Veneta."

Winters felt guilty when talking about his family; he couldn't face them.

He sighed and said to Senior Mason and Lieutenant Colonel Moritz, "We need to write a letter to the Legion."

Winters took the lead, carefully choosing his words and reading them aloud as he wrote, while the others listened.

The legion lost a claw in this battle, but Winters' tone was even more humble than last time.

In a private letter, he poured out his heart to General Adams: from the moment he was assigned to Palatine, he had been filled with gratitude for this land, and he had never had the thought of betraying Palatine.

He expressed regret for the accidental injury to friendly forces from neighboring counties; he offered to assist in the search for the missing Vogne County officer; and he was willing to return the captured Vogne County weapons.

The final signature read, "W.M., loyal guardian of the Republic."

In conclusion, this letter is written in a simple and sincere style, and is truly Winters' best work since he started school.

"What's the point of writing this?" Don Juan asked impatiently.

“Let’s save General Adams’s face. Of course, it would be even better if he could be fooled by this letter,” Winters replied with a smile, casually handing the manuscript behind him.

Charles took the manuscript and copied it down—the small dockworker currently served as Winters's guard, clerk, gendarme, and messenger.

Winters then changed the subject: "The Legion's spellcaster assassins and the lieutenant colonel's... raid served as a reminder that we should build a 'safety trench' to prevent similar incidents from happening again."

"Safety trenches?" Mason was more concerned about this topic. Moritz's decapitation strike was truly terrifying, leaving him with lingering fear. "How would you build them?"

Winters explained, “First, the commander should not meet directly with any messenger. The exchange of mail must go through a layer of intermediaries to prevent the spellcaster from posing as a messenger and assassinating the target. And then…”

"And then I still didn't figure it out," Winters laughed. "Let's brainstorm and work together to fill in the gaps."

Mason thought for a moment and added, "Officer's uniform, helmet, sash, corset, tassels, piping—these things are too conspicuous. Put them in front of you and the lieutenant colonel; you'd be sitting ducks."

“If it’s not obvious, how can the officers command the soldiers?” Andrei retorted. “If it’s not obvious, the soldiers will think the officers have deserted.”

Winters also considered this issue: "Dress uniforms and field uniforms should ideally be completely separate. Uniforms don't need to be too fancy, but they should be able to make it easy for soldiers to identify officers at a glance."

“That’s contradictory,” Mason said, shrugging.

"Don't think about it too much. We can think about what the uniforms should look like when we have the money to issue uniforms to the troops." Andrei yawned and waved his hand, then asked Winters, "Are you really going to return the captured weapons?"

Iron Peak County can only manufacture agricultural-grade weapons, such as spears that are about two meters long.

With the rise of the Steelburg metal industry, the only weaponsmith in Ghevordan, [Shosha], has long since abandoned his sword-forging skills and now makes a living by selling ready-made Steelburg sword blades.

As for making armor and firearms, forget about it.

The army of Tiefeng County relied entirely on captured weapons and armor to arm themselves.

Therefore, Andrei was very sensitive when he heard Winters say that he would return the captured supplies.

“I’d like to return it,” Winters said casually. “If he dares to ask for it back, then I’ll just give it back to him.”

The others laughed.

Winters' smile faded. "There's one more thing, and I think it's time to talk about it now."

"That thing again?" Don Juan frowned.

“That’s right.” Winters glanced at the other officers and announced, word by word, “Reorganize the army! Now is the time.”

"To rebuild the army right after the war?" Andrei disagreed: "That's too hasty."

“No, it’s better that we just won a battle.” Winters’ attitude was firm: “If we fight a few more battles, it will be harder to reorganize. Right now, our army is a blank slate, but it’s already starting to take shape. The timing is perfect!”

The organization of the Iron Peak County army was extremely chaotic, which was a major concern for Winters.

To reduce internal resistance, Winters took the position of garrison commander himself and continues to operate under the garrison's name to this day.

In theory, all troops were under the jurisdiction of the garrison, but in reality, the garrison had no power and was just an empty shell; the soldiers each listened to their own orders.

The cavalry was commanded by Andrei, the infantry were directly under Winters' command, and Mason commanded his small team of engineers and artillerymen.

Moreover, the organization of different units varies greatly. Among the infantry, there are units like the Old Bard, Cellini, and Mason Hundreds, which use the old organization but are the most powerful in combat.

There are also units like the Tiefeng County Infantry Regiment, which adopt a new organizational structure but have not yet been tested in actual combat.

The cavalry and artillery were entirely Andrei and Mason's private troops, with no official organization whatsoever. Their numbers varied greatly, depending entirely on the commander's whim.

Logistics were in utter chaos; whatever the lower levels needed, they'd ask for, and whatever the higher levels had, they'd issue. It was all kept afloat by virtue and integrity, with a severe lack of institutional constraints.

Winters has discussed this issue with others on more than one occasion.

Winters has repeatedly and vehemently pointed out that the reason this chaotic situation is being maintained is entirely because the army is too small. He warned that if the army continues to expand, it will inevitably suffer the consequences sooner or later.

There were six officers who could participate in the decision-making process. Don Juan and Moritz remained silent, while Bader, Andrei, and Mason were successfully persuaded by Winters.

The reorganization of the army was already on the agenda, but the New Reclamation Corps did not give it the opportunity.

Just as Winters began drafting the reorganization plan, White Mountain County and Vaughan County launched a fierce attack.

“The crisis is temporarily averted.” Winters’ eyes gleamed. “But the legions will return sooner or later. The time to reorganize the army is now!”

The atmosphere became a little tense.

"Okay! You say you want to change it." Andrei slapped his thigh: "Then let's change it!"

Mason nodded in agreement: "The current situation is outrageous, and we really need to sort out our organization. If we don't clarify our organization, we'll always be rebels."

Lieutenant Don Juan and Lieutenant Colonel Moritz exchanged a glance.

“You don’t need to consider my and the lieutenant colonel’s opinions.” Juan shrugged. “You’re Paratist officers, we’re not.”

And so, Charles silently wrote in the meeting minutes: "Lieutenant Bard is absent, A and B abstained, and the remaining three members unanimously passed the resolution."

“A small boat is easier to turn around, and a small army has its advantages.” Winters pulled out a thick stack of papers and said excitedly, “I suggest restoring the corps structure!”

Don Juan nearly choked on his saliva: "So you're going to be on the same level as your father?"

“No, no, no,” Winters said, blushing. “I don’t want to be a legion commander.”

"Why are you being so polite?" Andrei slapped his thigh again: "The decision is yours, you'll be the one."

Winters blushed even more and shook his head repeatedly: "The legion is just a nominal organization, not a real legion structure. The artillery and cavalry cannot be placed under the command of the infantry regiment, so a higher-level legion organization is needed."

"Are there any empty seats?"

"Just leave it empty."

Winters distributed sheets of paper with the proposed changes to the others: "Above the Legion, a Military Council should be established to oversee all military and political affairs and orders, just like the current six-person decision-making council."

The unwritten six-person decision-making meeting changed its name to a legitimate military council, and no one objected.

In terms of organizational structure, members of the Military Advisory Council are of a higher rank than corps commanders.

Only Moritz spoke softly: "Don't attach names to Juan and me; we are still officers of the Veneta Army."

“Then continue to call him Mr. A and Mr. B,” Winters said dismissively.

Moritz sighed and remained silent.

“The cavalry and artillery units don’t need much modification.” Winters looked at Andre and Mason: “Just set the personnel and quotas, and write the regulations. You two are responsible for writing the regulations yourselves.”

Andrei grimaced, then a brilliant idea struck him: "I'll go ask Bader to write it! That'll solve everything, won't it?"

Mason could only manage a wry smile: "I don't even have a single cannon on me, so what kind of crew am I supposed to appoint?"

“We don’t have a legion either, but we’ve still established a legion structure.” Winters comforted his senior, “Let’s establish the structure first, and we’ll have cannons sooner or later.”

Senior Mason sighed and haphazardly sketched the outline of a cannon on scrap paper.

“The infantry is the part that truly needs radical reorganization.” Winters’ expression turned serious. “The army will eventually have to fight real, hard-fought battles. The current organization is simply insufficient to handle a real campaign. It must be reorganized!”

In Winters' reorganization plan, the "regiment" as a conscription unit will be linked to the region and will remain.

To facilitate troop replenishment and logistical management, the 100-man unit is nominally still under the direct command of the regiment.

However, tactically, the 100-man team should be organized into "battalions" for combat.

The size of a "battalion" is similar to that of a current brigade, but it is not quite the same.

“The minimum standard for a battalion should be that it can form a square formation to fight independently.” Winters’ eyes lit up when talking about infantry tactics: “Large square formations of a thousand or even three thousand men are too cumbersome. The Palatine standing army generally uses small square formations of five hundred men to fight in the wilderness, and the effect is very good.”

Don Juan became interested: "What if a small square formation of five hundred men encounters cavalry? Can they withstand the charge?"

“Yes.” Winters leaned unconsciously towards Juan as he recounted his combat experience in the wasteland: “Even a small square of five hundred men couldn’t break through the Herd cavalry. And when the square became smaller, the musketeers could be more effective. Especially the area between two squares, it was practically a killing zone…”

Of the officers present, only Juan and Winters were infantry officers.

They could sit on a rock and talk all day about guerrilla tactics.

The others showed little interest in infantry; Senior Mason casually drew cannons, Lieutenant Colonel Moritz kept dozing off, and Andrei was also extremely sleepy.

Winters and Don Juan, on the other hand, were practically face to face across the table.

Getting carried away, Winters grabbed some scrap paper and casually drew a map, using chess pieces to represent the two armies, explaining and demonstrating it to his senior.

Don Juan listened with great interest, sometimes praising, sometimes sighing, and sometimes lamenting.

"When do you two have time to spar alone?!" Andrei roared, slamming his fist on the table. "Get the important business done first!"

Winters and Juan glared at Andre at the same time, making the latter feel guilty.

Andrei whispered, "I'm so hungry. Let's finish this meeting quickly so we can have dinner."

Don Juan glanced at Andrei, let out a soft snort, and shook his head slightly.

“I expanded the 100-man squad to 120 men. If a ‘battalion’ still has six 100-man squads, it’s not appropriate.” Winters got back to the point: “So we changed to a battalion-level organization, with four 100-man squads per battalion, for a total of 480 men.”

"Only four teams? How will they be matched with swords and shields, muskets, and spears?" Juan frowned.

“There are no sword and shield bearers; each battalion has one musketeer squad and three spear squads,” Winters explained. “Training sword and shield bearers is too difficult, and the equipment requirements are too high. Lieutenant Colonel John Jessica simply didn’t have sword and shield bearers, and it worked very well.”

"Musketeers and spears, one to three?"

“I don’t have enough muskets,” Winters sighed deeply, then laughed. “Otherwise, I would like to increase it to one-to-one, with two musketeer squads and two spearmen squads per battalion.”

Don Juan asked, puzzled: "Half the musketeers? What about hand-to-hand combat?"

Winters' smile widened. He took a sheet of white paper and began to explain to Juan as he drew: "If the musketeers adopt a rotational firing tactic, they can greatly weaken the enemy before engaging in melee combat. Even in melee combat, musketeers can be positioned among the pikemen, and so on..."

Juan eagerly craned his neck to look.

"Are you two ever going to stop?!" Andrei, unable to contain himself any longer, slammed his fist on the table and demanded.

"Alright, alright, let's get down to business." Winters brushed Andre off, then patted Juan's shoulder lightly: "I'll tell you when I have time."

"It's a deal," Juan said regretfully.

Winters continued explaining the changes: "Simply put, I'm adding [battalions] as tactical units. Each battalion will have four hundred-man squads. Everything else remains the same."

"Isn't a battalion the same as a brigade?" Andrei didn't understand.

“No, the numbers are the same, but not quite the same,” Winters explained. “A battalion has more officers, but fewer troops under its command.”

“Then let’s stop using the ancient imperial organization of centurions and battalions.” Andrei was overjoyed: “Let’s use [companies]. And let’s not call them centurions or battalion commanders. Let’s call them company commanders and battalion commanders.”

"Isn't 'Centurion' a nice name?" Winters asked, puzzled.

Andrei scoffed, "Those guys who don't even know which way the gates of the Army Academy face dare to call themselves centurions? I'm furious. They don't deserve the title of centurion for now. Company commander is fine!"

"Regiment" and "Company" were both names of the former Venetta mercenary organizations.

When Marshal Ned reformed the military, he deliberately used ancient imperial organizational names such as "[centuries]", "[battalions]", and "[legions]" to distinguish them from mercenary armies.

Andrei was particularly insistent on this matter, and Winters also felt that if things were to be changed, they should be changed completely.

So he crossed out "[Centurion]" on the draft and wrote "[Company Commander]".

Winters gathered his papers and solemnly concluded: "No matter how many revisions are made, it doesn't really matter. What really matters is one sentence, which I want to say in the end—[the Military Resolution Council has all military powers]."

“Of course,” Andrei said dismissively.

“What I mean is, even if one day a military decision is passed against my will, or yours,” Winters stared at Andrei. “We must still obey. Can you do that?”

"Do we even need to talk about these things?" Andrea Cellini replied firmly, "I will always support you."

This wasn't the answer Winters wanted, but he had nothing to complain about either.

“There’s one more thing that must be changed.” Winters smiled. “But there shouldn’t be much resistance, since our army is a blank slate and hasn’t been tainted by those so-called traditions.”

"What?" Don Juan asked, puzzled.

"Discipline must be enforced, and all spoils must be confiscated."

Don Juan shook his head: "It's difficult in some ways, but not difficult in others. It depends on your ability."

“Senior Mason?” Winters called softly.

Mason, who was immersed in the world of simple line drawings, was suddenly pulled out.

"What's wrong?" Mason instinctively covered the cannon on the paper. "The meeting's over?"

“I would like to ask you to return to Gevordan ahead of schedule,” Winters said. “I will be there shortly after with the main force.”

Mason raised an eyebrow: "Going back early? What's the matter?"

“Two things.” Winters tapped the table lightly. “I want you to go back and build a gallows in the city square, the kind that can hang a lot of people.”

The other four people present were slightly surprised, and even Moritz woke up and looked at Winters with a puzzled expression.

"A public trial, hasn't it never been held?" Winters propped his chin up: "Let's put it all together and settle the score."

Moritz blinked and nodded slightly.

“Another thing?” Mason looked into Winters’ eyes.

“The other good thing is,” Winters laughed. “I would like to ask you to organize a triumphal procession.”

Military ranks, positions, and organizational structures have always been subject to rampant misappropriation. While largely similar, differences exist between countries, languages, and cultures.
[For example, the English word "captain" can refer to a company commander, a captain, a lieutenant, or a colonel (in the navy); it can also represent the captain of a Spanish tercio, standing at the front of each column, or the leader of a small mercenary group in a 16th-century northern Italian city-state. Its semantic clarity is not as pronounced as in Chinese.]
Translating "军师旅团营连排班" as "军师旅团营连排班" is an elegant translation. It feels somewhat like forcibly applying the ranks of "公侯伯子男" (Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, Baron) to European nobility.
However, regardless of the circumstances, the establishment of the company battalion as an army unit, still in use today, occurred between the latter half of the 16th century and the first half of the 17th century. This involves the military reforms of Maurice of Nassau and Gustav II, which falls within the protagonist's era.

[Therefore, the era in which the protagonist lives is truly fascinating; on the one hand, the world is being depicted more and more clearly, yet it still retains a sense of mystery; on the other hand, advancements in systems and technology are constantly emerging, and you never know what new things will come out tomorrow.]
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(End of this chapter)