Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 253 Trial
The trombones played a victorious melody, cheers were deafening, and everyone rushed to catch a glimpse of the hero.

More than 1,500 years ago, a grand triumphal procession was held in a magnificent city on the plains of the lower reaches of the Botai River.

A triumphal procession, as the name suggests, is a celebration of someone's triumph. A person who wins a grand triumphal procession is hailed as a victor.

The grand triumphal procession begins with a parade, with men and women in shackles and tattered clothes walking at the front, the procession stretching as far as the eye can see.

They were prisoners of war, the defeated, and the spoils of the victors; some of them would be executed, and the rest would be sold into slavery.

The captives looked at the jubilant people on both sides of the road with hatred and fear.

The wagon, laden with captured weapons, armor, pagan idols, and gold and silver treasures, followed behind the prisoners.

These spoils of war are also proof of the victors' great achievements.

The flag bearer, holding aloft a painting board, sculpture, and signboard, walked in third place, proudly recounting to everyone the great battles and the glorious victories of the triumphant ones.

The members of the Senate, dressed in white robes with red trim, wearing gold and iron rings, and with purple sashes draped diagonally, were the fourth in line in the grand procession.

Even the most powerful elders had to walk on foot to pay the highest respect to the victors.

Because in the triumphal procession, the victors are second only to the gods and above all others.

The grand triumphal procession is about to reach its climax, and the victors will soon make their appearance.

People were trembling with excitement; everyone was intoxicated by the almost manic and psychedelic atmosphere of the celebration.
Finally, the military tribunes, riding tall steeds and clad in crimson battle robes, proudly stepped into the Eternal City.

They wore wreaths made of laurel, a special honor for the victors.

They were the victors' loyal subordinates, paving the way for them.

Those present involuntarily held their breath; the once bustling square became eerily quiet as people awaited the triumphant returnees.

The silence was fleeting, immediately crushed by the rumbling of the wheels.

Four pure white warhorses, without a single stray hair, led a magnificent chariot into the square.

A man stands atop a chariot, with a laurel branch symbolizing victory in his left hand and an eagle staff symbolizing authority in his right.

Cheers erupted like a tsunami, and fervent shouts came from everyone's chests.

The cheers were so loud they seemed to stop the clouds in their tracks and reach the highest heavens, even waking the gods who dwell on the sacred mountain.

But the victor showed no expression.

He wore a pure purple embroidered robe, every pattern of which was sewn with gold thread, dazzling and eye-catching.

That was the king's attire, and only today in his life could he wear it.

His face was painted red, and the crown of the chief god Jupiter was placed on his head.

That is God's crown, which he can wear only today in his life.

In this sacred celebration held solely for him, he was simultaneously granted divinity and royalty.

At this moment, the victor becomes the king of the Republic, standing shoulder to shoulder with all the gods.

His magnificent triumphant march will be recorded in the Book of Victory, and will be passed down forever as long as the Eternal City exists.

The title of "[Triumphant One]" will eventually become a more prestigious title than that of a king—Emperor.

A slave warned the victors at the moment of their triumph: "Remember! Remember! You are only a mortal, and mortals—will die."

More than 1,500 years after this glorious triumph, far, far south of the Eternal City, a city called Ghevordan was also preparing for its own triumph.

The main figure of the ceremony was naturally Winters Montagne, who returned victorious.

Traditionally, a triumphal procession should include a city-wide celebration. However, Winters was always frugal, so he opted for a different approach.

According to another rule, the triumphal procession should also distribute gifts to the entire city. However, Winters had no money, so he omitted that rule as well.

In any case, Winters cut all the extravagant and wasteful arrangements.

But when Winters rode his steed and strode proudly into Gévordane, his emotions were in line with those of the great triumphs of history.

The last time he entered Gévaudan, the citizens outwardly welcomed him, but in reality, no one believed he could remain in the city for long.

This time, he defeated the New Reclamation Legion's punitive force with honor and entered the city as a conqueror, and no one could question him anymore.

That's exactly what Winters wanted.

He wanted to proclaim his victory; he wanted to tell everyone that the storm of the legion had not broken him, but instead made him stand even stronger.

If, prior to this, Winters' allocation of land to the New Reclamation Corps was suspected of theft,

After this battle, ownership of Tiefeng County was transferred to him through "conquest," and he could dispose of and distribute it at will.

Winters, Andrei, Don Juan, Mason, and all the officers and soldiers were enjoying the moment.

They are the victors, and they deserve applause.

The soldiers were not only enjoying the victory, but also overwhelmed by it.

The shock was even more intense for the Zhevodans than for the soldiers.

Even in ancient empires that were keen on conquest and celebration, citizens might never witness a triumphal procession in their lifetime, let alone the Genodans who live on the frontiers of newly reclaimed lands today.

The endless lines of prisoners, the wagons laden with captured weapons, the exquisite military flags that had been seized, the imposing cavalry... all these things captivated the eyes of the Zhevodan people.

Everything in the long parade seemed to tell them – “Victory! Without a doubt.”

Excitement is contagious. When caught in the vortex of fervor, it becomes difficult for a person to remain rational.

Some of the residents of Thevaddin couldn't help but cheer; those who cheered were the poorest citizens.

Even if it's just for the millstone tax, they still hope the Blood Wolves will win.

Gradually, everyone began to cheer and applaud, and the Radisson Blu suddenly turned into a boiling ocean.

Anna, Catherine, and Scarlett were also in the crowd.

The people of Gévord are conservative, so all three ladies wore large hats and covered their faces with thin veils.

Nevertheless, Winters spotted Anna in the vast crowd at a glance.

Their eyes met, and Anna smiled restrainedly, giving Winters a slight bow.

Winters longed to walk into the crowd, to kiss Anna passionately, and then, amidst Anna's screams, to pick her up, place her on his horse, and take her away.

He also winked at Anna with restraint.

The scene that follows is unlikely to be pleasant; he actually doesn't want Anna to be there.

“But you will see my true face sooner or later,” Winters thought sadly, afraid of disappointing, frightening, or even disgusting Anna. He looked down at his clean hands: “You will see it sooner or later.”

And so, Winters rode off into the distance.

Anna frowned slightly, sensing a subtle change in her lover's emotions, but she didn't know why.

Catherine, on the other hand, was a total social butterfly, and the atmosphere on the street made her very happy.

Overjoyed, Catherine suddenly hugged her former enemy Scarlett, as if she wanted to dance with her.

This terrified Scarlett, leaving her both angry and frightened, and she no longer cared about manners.

"Fox eyes!" Scarlett shoved Catherine away forcefully. "What are you doing?!"

"Parade! Triumph! Celebration!" Catherine laughed happily. "Of course it's a celebration! You little wild child!"

The procession continued to the city square, where the people of Jervodan also gathered.

Soldiers stood in neat rows, prisoners were confined to a small area, and citizens stood in twos and threes at the back, while others squeezed forward desperately. In the blink of an eye, the city square was packed with people.

It was only then that many of the Zhevodan people suddenly remembered that, in addition to the triumphal procession, the new garrison had also prepared an execution platform.

There was no grand banquet for the entire city, so the triumphant ceremony ended with the presentation of prisoners and flags.

Winters, Andrei, and Mason went up to the platform, where soldiers threw captured military flags one after another.

The military flags, which the enemy regarded as sacred objects, fell to the dust. Each flag represented at least one hundred men who were wiped out as a whole.

With each military flag tossed down from below the stage, the soldiers roared in unison, each roar louder than the last, piercing through the clouds and reaching the heavens.

Immediately afterwards, the prisoners were brought up.

Traditionally, the higher the rank of the prisoners offered, the better. At least one prisoner had to be executed before the others could be spared.

Winters did not bring the four remaining officers from Waughshire to be publicly humiliated, so the presentation of the prisoners was simple; the prisoners were spared their lives and then taken away.

Even after the ceremony of presenting prisoners and the ceremony of presenting the flag were over, the people in the square remained in high spirits.

Winters indicated that Charles could proceed to the next stage.

Charles nodded and quickly left.

A short while later, Charles and Heinrich led a group of prisoners over—they were about to hold a public trial without stopping.

However, most people were not afraid; on the contrary, they were even more excited.

Many people in the city live a life that is actually harder than that of farmers.

They did not have citizenship rights in Gevordan; they had to come to the city to make a living simply because they had no land.

Life is tiring and boring, and watching an execution is a rare form of entertainment.

Whenever a prisoner was executed, even without a respected gentry leading the way, the square would be as lively as a market.

Men, women, and children all dressed in their best clothes to watch the execution.

According to custom, women are required to show compassion and mercy, so they all cover their eyes and peek through their fingers.

Not to mention that the city councilors went to great lengths to cooperate with Winters this time.

Just as the more exciting part was about to begin, the people of Thevordan were feeling excited when they suddenly noticed something was amiss.

"Hey? Isn't that my neighbor?" someone shouted. "Puffy-eyed guy?"

“That… the one on the far left! He looks like my neighbor too!” another person shouted.

Twenty prisoners were led to the execution platform, while at least a hundred more prisoners remained below.

The Genodans in the square tried their best to identify the prisoners and discovered that all of the hundreds of prisoners were also Genodans.

It includes both idle, good-for-nothing thugs and people who have no legitimate livelihood, live in slums, and make a living by stealing chickens and dogs and doing odd jobs.

People were arguing and making a ruckus. Some were puzzled, some said "serves him right," and others complained loudly.

"boom!"

"boom!"

"boom!"

Three cannon shots rang out in succession, and the crowd in the square immediately fell silent.

Beside the execution platform, a man with a red birthmark on his face kicked away a second-generation wooden cannon that was still smoking, signaling his men to move it away.

“Two weeks ago, there was a riot in Gervodam.” Winters walked onto the stage and looked directly at the dark mass of people.

Only Winters could deliver a speech to thousands of people, and only he was not intimidated by the stage.

The square is very large, and the echo interference is severe.

To ensure everyone could hear clearly, Winters spoke at long intervals: “These people were involved in looting, arson, and even murder during that riot, and they were caught red-handed.”

They all had red ropes tied around their shoulders, so many people thought my soldiers had robbed and murdered them. Therefore, today, they will be tried according to military law.

Winters' voice was loud and steady, calm yet containing authority and power, and everyone could hear it clearly.

The square was silent; many of them were victims of the riot.

On the day Don Juan led his troops to attack the city, the refugees outside the city and the hooligans inside the city caused chaos. Many shops were smashed and looted, and houses were burned to the ground. Even the Gevodan Cathedral was first looted and then set on fire.

This is why Lieutenant Colonel Moritz insisted on staying in Zhevodan to stop the violence and quell the unrest.

Winters continued to announce to the crowd in the square: "According to Plato's military law, the military commander has full jurisdiction and authority to adjudicate."

As the highest military commander of this county, I—Winters Montagne, Captain of the Army of the Republic of Palatine, and member of the Military Resolution Committee—make the following judgment.

"Those who injure or steal shall be punished with flogging and forced labor! Those who murder shall be hanged!" Winters swept across the square: "Execute them immediately! Gendarmerie! Send them to the gallows!"

A gasp rang out in the square. The people of Zhevodan were prepared, but they did not expect the methods to be so violent.

The city hall is next to the square. By the window on the second floor of the city hall, Catherine also gasped softly and subconsciously looked at her sister.

Anna bit her lip lightly, her eyes serious.

“Justice and judgment,” Catherine said softly, holding her sister’s hand. “It’s not murder.”

Scarlett nodded repeatedly.

“I know, how could I not know?” Anna held her sister’s hand tightly and said sadly, “I just feel sorry for him… that’s not his nature.”

Some prisoners were so frightened by being sentenced to death with a single sentence that they fainted on the spot, while others lost control of their bladder and bowels and knelt down to beg for mercy.

One prisoner even cried out, "Sir! I'm not a soldier! I really am not!"

“We’re not soldiers! We shouldn’t be subject to military law!” Immediately, a quick-thinking prisoner pleaded, “Sir! Let the Zhevodan court try us! Please!”

Winters strode over to the prisoner and used amplification to amplify the vibrations in the surrounding air, thus amplifying the prisoner's voice.

"Aren't you a soldier?" Winters asked.

"No, sir, it really isn't true," the prisoner pleaded tearfully.

"Then why are you tying a red string around your shoulder?"

The prisoner, who had been caught red-handed after committing arson, robbery, and rape, swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Without Winters's prompting, Heinrich delivered a sharp elbow strike to the prisoner's jaw.

The prisoner's molars were all loosened from the beating, and blood and saliva spurted from his mouth. He confessed with snot and tears streaming down his face: "That day... I saw that the adults' soldiers were all tied with red ropes... so I tied mine too..."

The prisoner's words were clearly heard by everyone in the square.

The prisoners wore wooden tags indicating what crimes they had committed, so Winters could tell at a glance what kind of scum they were.

"Aren't you a soldier?" Winters asked.

"No! Please have mercy!"

“I can hand you over to the court in Jervodan, but you will answer whatever I ask you.”

The prisoner nodded frantically.

"Robbery." Winters asked grimly, "Do you plead guilty?"

The prisoner remained silent.

Heinrich immediately dragged the prisoner toward the noose.

"I confess!" the prisoner shouted.

"Arson, will you plead guilty?"

The prisoner's defenses had completely crumbled: "Confess!"

"Rape".

"Confess! I did it all!" the prisoner cried out.

The people in the square were furious. Arson and rape were both heinous crimes, and death was no less painful than hanging.

However, seeing that a heinous criminal has temporarily escaped death, the citizens felt somewhat resentful.

Winters didn't waste any words. He directly ordered all the prisoners: "Those of you who are not soldiers and who have confessed, step forward! Those who are not soldiers, hand them over to the Gévordine court for trial."

The prisoners moved forward in unison, and some even took two or three steps.

"Fine! You will be handed over to the court of Thevordan for trial!"

The prisoners breathed a sigh of relief, and several of them, overwhelmed with mixed feelings of sorrow and joy, collapsed to the ground, their bodies limp.

“Gendarmerie!” Winters ordered. “Bring the judge from Gevordan up.”

Iron Peak County is located on the frontier of Palatul and has long relied on customary law. Written laws are few and far between, and most are related to taxation.

Therefore, judges in Zhevodan are elected by citizens with civil rights, with three judges elected every four years. Minor offenses and civil cases outside of Zhevodan are handled by the mayors and resident officials of the respective towns.

A frail old man in his sixties walked shakily onto the execution platform.

The old man was well-dressed, which showed that he came from a wealthy family—otherwise he wouldn't have been elected as a judge.

“Mr. Heifetz,” Winters asked directly, “are you one of the three current judges in Gevordan?”

"Yes," the old man answered, forcing himself to speak.

"Their cases are your responsibility."

"Yes." Judge Heifetz was also somewhat embarrassed: "The Gevordan court is very small, I'm afraid it will...take a long time to hear the case."

“No need for that.” Winters narrowed his eyes. “How should one be punished under customary law for impersonating a soldier and committing a crime?”

Judge Heifetz paused, then hesitated before replying, "It should be tried by the county garrison."

"Please speak louder."

The old judge cleared his throat: "Impersonating a soldier is a crime! This case will be tried by the county garrison!"

The old judge's voice echoed throughout every corner of the square.

The prisoners on and off the execution platform thought they were saved, but in the blink of an eye they fell back into the abyss.

"According to military law," Winters coldly swept his gaze over the group of prisoners: "Those who commit assault shall be whipped and sentenced to hard labor! Those who commit murder and arson shall be beheaded! Execute them immediately!"

The square was quiet at first, then suddenly erupted in cheers.

Several tree stumps were moved to the gallows, and it immediately became a beheading platform.

It was too late for the death row inmates to have their bodies left intact after being hanged, while those sentenced to caning and forced labor were filled with relief, thankful that they had not committed serious crimes.

The crying death row inmate was forcibly dragged to the tree stump.

The man with the red birthmark received the order and lit the wooden cannon.

As soon as the cannon fired, the prisoners on the platform were decapitated, and then the next batch of people were dragged up.

"I want to make my final confession! Sir! Have mercy!" A death row inmate struggled and screamed desperately, "I want to see a priest! Find me a priest!"

"Too late." Winters coldly ordered the cannons to fire: "Go to hell and repent!"

Another cannon shot rang out, and four more criminals were decapitated. The bodies were dragged away, and the next batch of criminals was brought up.

Blood was everywhere on the execution platform. Thick blood dripped in lines onto the ground through the cracks in the wooden planks.

The people of Theovodan in the square felt only dry mouth and cold hands and feet; they felt both pleasure and fear.

Where had they ever seen such a devastating killing spree?
Normally, a single hanging would be enough to relive for half a year, but now, with twelve heads already chopped off on the execution platform, prisoners are still being dragged up.

Within the army's ranks, the soldiers watched in silence—Winters wasn't just killing for the civilians, but also for his own soldiers.

On the second floor of the city hall, Catherine, who had just been comforting Anna, had fainted.

Anna and Scarlett held Catherine, their faces equally pale.

On the square, old Priskin was in utter despair—he had underestimated the ferocity of the Blood Wolves.

Priskin's eldest son died young, leaving behind only one son, but his youngest son was not up to the task.

So old Priskin placed all his hopes on his eldest grandson, but unexpectedly, the eldest grandson brought more trouble than his youngest son.

The blacksmith, Sausage, helped old Priskin up and was surprised to find that the old man's body was so light and trembling.

The first batch of prisoners were either beheaded or flogged.

Winters nodded, and the second batch of prisoners was brought up.

The citizens of Ghevodan did not recognize the second group of prisoners, but the soldiers in the square were alarmed because they did.

The second batch of prisoners consisted of deserters, cowardly soldiers, and soldiers who had committed robbery and rape during the campaign.

If the first batch of prisoners were disposed of arbitrarily according to Winters' wishes.

The second batch of prisoners were dealt with in a true "public trial".

The provisional court consisted of Judges Winters, Mason, Heifetz, and a soldier's representative.

The soldiers on trial were allowed to defend themselves and present their evidence, just like a regular trial.

Killing a few serious criminals is just the appetizer.

The real reason Winters held a "public trial" in front of a large audience was to extend military tribunals to the ranks of soldiers, and it was also the first time Winters had done so.

Military courts are not a new thing, but only officers are entitled to be tried in accordance with the law.

Soldiers are not eligible to be court-martialed, and soldiers who disobey orders and commit crimes receive no "protection."

In wartime, centurions could execute ordinary soldiers directly; in peacetime, battalion commanders could execute ordinary soldiers directly.

There was no trial, no written law to follow, and the decision of whether to give a light or heavy sentence rested entirely with the military commander.

Winters needed military law to enforce discipline.

Without real military law, there is no real military discipline.

If we continue to use the established customary military laws—many of which are even inherited from the nomadic era—we will never have a new army.

Without clearly defined written military law, no matter how hard Winters tried, he could only get a better old army at best.

Thus, the first written military law in the history of this continent was born in the hands of Winters Montagne.

Bud, the most eloquent writer, was not present, and none of the officers present were as eloquent.

Therefore, Winters simply and directly named this military code "The Military Code," while Don Juan secretly called it "The Montagne Military Code."

This initial military law strictly delineated the boundaries between law enforcement and judicial powers:

Military police have the power to enforce the law; they can arrest soldiers and officers.
However, trials and prosecutions must be conducted by military courts;
The military commander of each regiment also serves as the chief judge of the military court. Other members of the court are drawn from all levels of the military, and must include at least one soldier.
Regimental-level military courts are responsible for trying minor offenses, while serious offenses are handled by corps-level senior military courts.

In very rare circumstances, military commanders are permitted to execute soldiers without trial—such as in cases of cowardice in battle or defection.

Military officers at the company level must read the "Military Discipline" to their soldiers at least once a month. The "Military Discipline" is the military discipline that is closest to the soldiers, and it was Winters' original purpose.

This can be summarized as follows: all spoils are confiscated and turned over to the public; minor offenses are punished lightly; serious offenses such as theft, cowardice, robbery, and rape are punished severely; others.

Winters had considered the issue of postwar looting for a long time.

Most of the time, soldiers looted because they couldn't survive without looting—their food rations were insufficient, and their pay was often delayed.

If they didn't rob, the soldiers would starve. Looting eventually became a habit.

Many generals were happy to see this happen, because when soldiers looted, it reduced the pressure on supplies.

But after discussing it with Don Juan and Mason, Winters agreed that it would be better to get rid of this "tradition" as soon as possible.

The section on "Punishment" strictly defines the scope of light and heavy punishments. Simply put, punishments below flogging are considered light punishments, including the most ordinary extra physical labor; the only heavy punishment is hanging.

Winters abolished corporal punishment because he believed it was better to preserve the criminals' ability to work than to cripple them.

The public trial taking place in Gevordanplatz at this moment was the first practical application of the Military Code.

One by one, the soldiers who had looted during the chaos confessed their crimes and were punished. Their land grants were revoked, and they were sentenced to death.

However, given that these soldiers looted during the Battle of Hammerlock, there was no written military law explicitly stating that "looters shall be executed."

Therefore, their crime was reduced by one degree, and they were deprived of their land grants and sentenced to five years of hard labor.

Most deserters did not plead guilty, insisting they were not soldiers; but when soldiers who had been shot with the same arrow as them testified in court, their denials became meaningless.

Deserters have no chance of leniency; they are hanged.

This was the first time the Military Code had come into effect, and Winters hardened his heart and issued the hanging order.

The deserters were pushed one by one to the edge of the execution platform.

Winters watched their bodies fall naturally, only to be suddenly pulled back by the noose.

Their necks couldn't withstand the force and snapped instantly. Consciousness vanished, leaving only corpses swaying gently with the noose.

To the best of Winters' knowledge, these bodies belonged to deserters who were executed after trial for the first time in history.

In the end, it was nothing more than death.

But in terms of the process, these deaths may have been significant.

Winters sighed deeply in his heart as he turned to the soldiers and read the Military Code to them for the first time.

The soldiers listened attentively; they didn't need to understand everything, because it would be read to them again and again later.

All they needed to know was that this stern but just code of law had inviolable power—just look at those corpses swaying in the wind.

The citizens of Gevordan listened in silence.

This was probably the first time they had ever heard of written military law, and probably the first time they had ever heard of someone stipulating military discipline in such a "good" way.

They were most pleased that the army did not plunder or disturb civilians. But they couldn't help but wonder: could any army really do what the code described?

Seeing the corpses swaying in the wind and the young man reading the law on the platform, a glimmer of hope welled up in the hearts of the Zhevodans—perhaps it was possible.

The first edition of the Military Code was read aloud in its entirety for the first time. It was not perfect and had loopholes, but it had taken a small step and a big step.

It was so quiet in Piazza de la Gevordan that you could hear a pin drop.

"For Blood Wolf!" Tamas, the former acting centurion and now the company commander of the 1st Company of the Iron Peak County Infantry Regiment, suddenly blushed and shouted three times!

“Wooah! Wooah!” Tamas roared, guiding the others.

"Uukhai!" the soldiers shouted in response.

"Wooah! Wooah!" The other company commanders and sergeants also patted their chests to lead the way, just like Tamas.

"Uukhai!!" The shouts became more unified and louder.

"wooah! wooah!"

"Uukhai!!!" The soldiers of the twelve companies roared with their last ounce of strength: "Uukhai!!!"

This was a thunderous cheer that even the victorious one from over 1,500 years ago had never received.

Winters, like the triumphant ruler of fifteen hundred years ago, accepted it calmly.

“Bring up the third batch of prisoners,” Winters said to Heinrich.

The matter is not over yet; there are still a number of people to deal with.

Heinrich was ordered to lead the third group of prisoners out of the carriage.

As he supported old Priskin, Shosa felt the old man's body tense up instantly.

Those who emerged from the carriages were all prominent citizens of Zhevodan, including six municipal councilors and the grandson of old Priskin.

Heinrich led the third group of prisoners to the execution ground.

Old Priskin suddenly strode toward the execution platform. The blacksmith, Shosa, never expected the old man to be so agile at his age, and quickly followed.

Winters also noticed the small commotion ahead. When he saw the old man running over, he assumed it was to petition.

Old Priskin took a purple sash from his pocket, held it high above his head, and cried out with tears streaming down his face, "I, John Priskin, on behalf of all the citizens of Gevodane, hereby elect Captain Winters Montagne as Military Tribunal of Iron Peak County!"

Winters chuckled to himself.

However, the atmosphere in the square was already electric, and the men that Old Priskin had arranged beforehand began to cheer in unison: "Tribunal for the Baptists! Tribunal for the Baptists!"

"Commander of the Tribes!" The soldiers, unwittingly led astray, began to chant in unison, "Commander of the Tribes!"

They didn't actually know what "[Tribunal for the People]" meant, but everyone was shouting enthusiastically, so it must be a good thing, right?
Winters heard clearly that old Priskin had said "military tribunal," but in the end everyone in the square was shouting "tribunal."

Military tribunes and tribunes are completely different things, and Winters had no idea how to explain this to the thousands of people cheering in the square.

Even Andrei and senior Mason joined in the cheering and shouting.

Winters raised his hand to signal for quiet, and the cheers gradually subsided.

The fact that the title of military tribunal was unearthed by Priskin from the dusty archives clearly indicates that there was some consideration behind it.

Military tribunals were positioned between legion commanders and centurions, neither too large nor too small, just right for the size of the troops in Iron Peak County.

How could Priskin not know what he was thinking? By nominating Winters as military tribunal in his name, he was trying to completely remove the mask of the garrison and garrison officer and directly pledge allegiance to Winters.

What was he after? Nothing more than to save his grandson's life—but Winters never intended to kill old Priskin's grandson.

“I…” Winters began slowly, “I would also like to recommend Andrea Cellini as Military Militant!”

"Protector of the people!" the people in the square cheered.

"I would also like to recommend Richard Mason as Military Civilian Officer!"

"Tribune!!"

"I would also like to nominate Gerald's Budd as Military Tribunal!"

"Protector of the People!!!" The atmosphere reached its peak.

"Bring up the third batch of prisoners!" Winters waved his hand.

Old Priskin's smile froze on his face.

Seventeen Gentry of Zhevordan were led tremblingly to the execution platform. The blood on the platform was still wet, and each step left a trail of bloody footprints.

They walked those few short steps as if they were on the edge of an abyss.

"Kneel down," Winters said coldly.

In the blink of an eye, all seventeen people knelt down, those who were standing in the blood knelt directly in the blood.

Winters drew his sword and placed it on little Mr. Priskin's shoulder.

Old Priskin's vision went black, and he nearly fainted.

Winters said calmly, "You have been secretly colluding with the New Reclamation Legion, passing on messages, and plotting to attack the city gates to help my enemies capture Zhevodan."

Young Priskin couldn't even speak; he trembled like a leaf and wept bitterly.

“I respect loyalty, so I will not blame you.” Winters did not use amplification: “After all, you were loyal to the New Reclamation Legion back then, while I, as the garrison commander, never asked you to swear allegiance. But from that perspective, you are still my enemies, and I will still kill you.”

One of the seventeen people burst into tears.

“So I’m giving you a chance.” Winters paused. “Swear allegiance to me.”

He never intended to wreak havoc in Gévodan. Killing seventeen people was easy, but ruling Gévodan again would be much more difficult.

Young Priest grabbed Winters' sword and kissed it passionately as he swore an oath, completely oblivious to the cuts his hand was getting made by the blade.

The others scrambled over and did the same.

Winters sheathed his sword, pulled little Priskin up from the ground, and casually said, "You only get one chance."

Little Priskin trembled, tears welling in his eyes, and nodded frantically.

"Don't cry." Winters patted old Priskin's grandson on the shoulder, raised the latter's hand, and waved to the crowd in the square with a smile: "Smile!"

Little Priskin forcefully held back the tears welling up in his eyes.

The people in the square couldn't hear what they were saying; they only saw the new tribunal place his sword on the shoulder of old Mr. Priskin's grandson, pull him up, and wave towards the square.

They saw Mr. Priestin laughing, laughing very happily.

"Centurion, what's going on?" Peter Bunier asked Tamas quietly from in front of the execution platform.

"What centurion? Call him company commander!" Tamas didn't really know what was going on, but he had to answer out of politeness: "Can't you even understand this? It's a knighting ceremony! Hey, centurion, really. Why give it to an outsider first?"

"Tribunal for the Blessed!" Tamas shouted again to add to the merriment.

He didn't know what the word meant; he thought it was a new battle cry or cheer.

When he shouted, the soldiers in his company started shouting too, and eventually everyone in the square joined in.

The cry of "Protector of the People" echoed through the sky once again.

Amidst the deafening cheers, Charles ran over and said with concern, "Brother, it seems we have no choice but to treat everyone to a good meal today..."

[Sorry I'm late today. It's a combined two-part chapter, and I've been writing it until now.]
[The military tribune was similar to a lieutenant-general, deployed wherever needed, and the number of men under his command depended entirely on the legion commander's arrangements. This position was higher in rank than a centurion but lower than a legion commander; it was typically the first post for young Roman nobles or senators entering the army.]
[As for the tribunes of the people, that's another matter.]
[Regarding military law, the modern concept of "military law" emerged in the late 16th and 17th centuries. An army doesn't necessarily have to plunder; if soldiers are paid on time and provided with sufficient food and drink, they are not obligated to loot. Gustavus Adolphus's "Regulations of War," enacted during the siege of Riga in 1621, is the origin of modern written military law in this world.]
King Gustavus Adolphus was also deeply troubled by his soldiers' habit of looting; the looting severely hampered their fighting ability. Even before the battle was won, the soldiers were already thinking about how to take as much as possible and where to find the most spoils of war.
[It's better to forbid looting altogether; anyone who does will be hanged. There are better ways to obtain supplies from occupied territories than through such an inefficient method as plundering. Therefore, Gustavus Adolphus' soldiers had a reputation for good conduct (relatively speaking), which was quite rare in that era.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments.]
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(End of this chapter)