Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 268 Preparing for War
The western side of the newly established province is bounded by the Dajiao River-Guanghui River.

Crossing the Big Horn River and traveling more than 100 kilometers westward, you will reach the winter pastures of the Teldun tribe.

Over the past month, tens of thousands of Teldun people have continued to migrate to this area, resulting in an unprecedented number of tents on the winter pastures.

Even with many tents, you can't see a scene of thousands of horses galloping; at most, you can see a few riders speeding across the horizon.

Felt tents stood apart from each other, and herds of livestock stood apart from each other, maintaining a cold distance, like isolated islands on a yellowish-green sea.

The reason they look like this is partly due to the social structure of the Hed people, and partly due to the pressure of survival.

The Hud people can be roughly divided into three classes:
Kota – meaning full-time warrior or military aristocrat;
Halan – meaning "the people of the nobility";

Tihe'er—slave.

Because of the harsh and dangerous living environment, there was no difference in the living standards and political status between the common people and slaves.

The slaves of the nobles were certainly better fed and clothed than ordinary people, and even had a higher social status—even if the former were slaves and the latter were not.

At the same time, the flattening of society has led to good social mobility.

After all, a Hedman might be a poor man today, but tomorrow he could be kidnapped and enslaved, thus successfully achieving upward social mobility.

Even the Terdun tribe, which was considered one of the "three major tribes," was still organized as "a group of minor military nobles pledging allegiance to a major military noble."

A minor military nobleman, along with his attendants, guards, subjects, and slaves, constitutes a miniature tribe.

Those who tended the fire were not only the objects of loyalty of the lesser military nobles, but also the most powerful military nobles.

Pastures have limited capacity to support livestock, so Hart families had to graze their animals at greater distances; this increased distance, in turn, dramatically increased the cost of governance. This naturally led to the evolution of this loose social structure.

For Hart society, this was a necessity for survival; but for the rulers, it was a dispersion of power.

The Fireman wanted to make a change. He had heard that the White Lion was "registering the people," and he wanted to reorganize the Teldon tribe in the same way.

But now his prestige is far less than before, especially after the loss of the golden statue used for sacrificial rites, which has drawn much criticism. Whenever the fire-warmer sees the Kotas whispering, he feels that they are mocking and ridiculing him.

The White Lion's policy of registering all citizens essentially aimed to shrink the power space of the minor military aristocracy—a point that the Fire-Bake Observer clearly understood.

However, nomadic life has one characteristic: [the herders' property either has legs or can be carried on long legs, so they can run away at any time].

If the Kotas are unhappy with the fire-brooders, they can always take all their possessions and leave, moving on to another tribe to continue being Kotas, or simply becoming independent.

Of course, this kind of "relocation" that is tantamount to defection will definitely have procedural problems, and cleaning up the mess will be troublesome. It may even trigger a war between various factions.

But when it comes to losses, the Kotas will never hesitate.

Therefore, the Fireman dared not act rashly; he had to first stabilize the Teldon tribe and then gradually squeeze power out of the Kotas.

The quickest way to rebuild prestige is to win battles.

For the Hurds, there is no problem that cannot be solved with spoils of war. If it cannot, it is certainly because there are not enough spoils.

The fire-gatherer has found a very good target.

"Teldun's sons!" The man tending the fire strode confidently into the tent: "Is everyone here?"

The Kotas inside the large tent stopped arguing and bowed to the person warming himself by the fire.

The fire-makers convened a meeting of the Kotas, ostensibly to "divide up winter pastures."

The agreement with Palatul is no longer binding, and Teldun no longer needs to maintain a 100-kilometer buffer zone.

In this way, the Teldun tribe suddenly gained a large, fertile winter pasture, and the Kotas were all eagerly waiting for the fire-warmers to distribute meat to them.

The man warming himself by the fire looked around the tent and began to speak of another matter: "We were both present during the battle in early autumn. We didn't plunder much wealth or women, but we exhausted many geldings. It was my fault for giving the wrong orders; you can blame me."

The person warming himself by the fire revealed his own shortcomings, and the other Kotas dared not respond casually.

“The young men still managed to plunder quite a lot,” a wise old man said cautiously. “It’s all thanks to you, the one who warms himself by the fire.”

The man warming himself by the fire sneered, "We didn't even get to eat a truly tender and succulent leg of lamb. A few scraps of bone and bits of meat—how could that be enough for the young men?"

The Kotas knew perfectly well the true purpose of the fire-gathering meeting, but no one was willing to express their opinion.

It was the man who was warming himself by the fire who was the first to stand up and bluntly question him: "Man who is warming himself by the fire, just say it straight. We are all willing to go to gather hay, but you have to explain the situation clearly. Just like a herd of horses follows the lead horse, you have to explain where you are going so that we can follow you."

"It's very simple. Although the two-legged people suffered a defeat, they are still a tough nut to crack." The man warming himself by the fire said in a gruff voice, "In a head-on clash of swords against swords and arrows against arrows, you and I may not necessarily win, and even if we do, many will die or be wounded."

Kota from Teldun nodded in agreement.

Thirty years of decline cannot be completely reversed by a single victory. If we were to set up our forces and fight another battle, the Paratists would definitely win.

“So we have to go back to the path of our grandfathers and ancestors. We have to hunt gazelles like wolves, tearing apart the small and weak first, avoiding the big and strong.” The man warming himself by the fire grinned, “Once the small and weak are all gone, then the big and strong can be slaughtered…”

The Kotas all thought this made sense, but they also felt that the person warming himself by the fire wouldn't say such a thing. One Kota thought to himself: It must have been the "Echig" of the person warming himself by the fire who prepared this explanation for him.

Echige means father. The fire-warmer's biological father has passed away. The only person the fire-warmer can respectfully call Echige is the "translator" who fled to the wilderness thirty years ago.

"Just tell me what to do!" the uncle of the man warming himself by the fire rudely interrupted his nephew. "Don't try to reason with me!"

"Alright!" The man by the fire didn't dawdle. He said sternly, "This winter has been warm, the pasture hasn't completely withered, and the horses haven't lost much weight. They still have the strength to fight again. Even two-legged people would never expect that you and I would have to send troops again."

Zhukota went back and mustered his men. This year's winter pastures will be divided according to labor contribution; those who contribute more will get the fertile, nearby pastures, and those who contribute less will get the poorer, farther pastures. Nothing else to say, let's decide by tossing beans!"

After saying this, the man tending the fire slammed his hand on the table, and two slaves carried in a golden bottle and two bowls, one containing red beans and the other black beans.

The man warming himself by the fire took a bean from each of the two bowls and walked to the golden jar. With a clang, a bean fell from his hand into the jar.

The other Kotas also took turns picking up beans and throwing bottles, based on their status and strength.

Kotas who lack the strength are not eligible to toss beans, and those who are eligible are not allowed to abstain; every Kota must choose a side. This is the bean-tossing protocol, a simple, brutal, but efficient voting method for the Heds.

The person warming themselves by the fire had their back to the golden jar and only turned around after the bean-throwing was finished.

He shook the golden bottle up and down three times, then poured the beans inside into the earthenware plate in one go.

The red beans and black beans are clearly distinguishable in color; apart from two black beans, everything else in the plate is red.

"The gods bear witness!" the fire-gatherer roared, smashing the ceramic plate to announce the completion of the ceremony.

……

As Teldun's forces began to assemble, Iron Peak County, a hundred kilometers away, was also mobilizing its troops.

The assembly order was sent to all military settlements and villages immediately. Horse-drawn carts loaded with weapons rumbled out of the armory, closely following the messengers.

The weapons and armor of the Tiefeng County Infantry Regiment, which were originally kept in a centralized location, have now been distributed to individuals.

To minimize logistical burden, Winters instructed the soldiers to prepare two weeks' worth of rations themselves.

In no time, smoke rose from the chimneys of Juntun Village, as every household was busy grinding flour, kneading dough, and baking.

It was at this time that the second company commander, Bart Sharling, discovered a serious problem—he had far too many bachelors under his command.

The Iron Peak County Infantry Regiment was reorganized from the surrendered Iron Peak County garrison. Back when Major Ronald was recruiting, he deliberately selected refugees without families to enlist.

Because migrants without family are in greater danger, and migrants without family also need less food.

The new infantry regiment inherited this structure, so most soldiers were self-sufficient and had no family to worry about.

On ordinary days, everyone could manage to eat a bite. But when it came to preparing two weeks' worth of rations, everyone was in a frenzy—including Bart Sharing himself.

After walking around the village, Bart Sharing immediately called a halt to the family-run method of producing military rations.

He gathered all the men, women, and children in the village together. The second company commander had seen how the old saint, Mr. Reid, organized his soldiers to roast rations, and he decided to follow that practice and prepare rations for all the soldiers in his company.

Physical labor such as kneading and grinding flour is done by men, while delicate tasks such as baking and mixing water are left to the few women in the village.

A temporary barbecue grill was set up in the village square, and everyone worked together, sweating profusely, creating a festive atmosphere.

Seeing this lively scene, Bart Sharing suddenly felt a sense of desolation.

While the second company commander was overwhelmed with work, Winters was equally busy.

Winters entrusted the management of the blacksmiths' guild entirely to the blacksmiths, Portin and his son-in-law, Chaussa. As the founder of the guild, the old blacksmith Portin knew it inside and out. Since they had chosen the "slow and steady" approach, no one was more suitable to handle the work than the old blacksmith Portin.

Through his conversation with the old blacksmith, Winters' vision expanded beyond the blacksmiths' guild—the core of all guilds' profit-seeking lies in monopoly. And Ironpeak County can only have one monopolist, and that is the new government.

He arranged for Charles and Shaosha to work together to secretly investigate and count all the guilds in Iron Peak County.

However, all these things had to give way to the war. Winters arranged the assembly routes for the various companies of the infantry regiment, lay down on the bed and slept for less than two hours before being woken up by Charles.

The elders of the nearby villages and the farmers who were recognized as skilled in farming had been summoned to Zhevodan and were waiting for the tribunal to discuss matters.

Unfortunately, you have to eat bread one bite at a time, and you have to do things one step at a time.

Although war was imminent, Winters' first priority was to address the agricultural disasters caused by the mild winter.

In a sense, this matter was even more important than guarding against the barbarians, such as Hart.

While mild winters are rare, they have happened before. Farmers offered a variety of unusual suggestions regarding the early jointing of wheat, such as holding markets in the wheat fields.

A farmer from Saint-Claude Village confidently assured that the problem of the wheat seedlings growing too tall could be easily solved by holding a market in the wheat field.

Winters seemed to be listening attentively, nodding occasionally. But his mind was already wandering to the wasteland, his thoughts filled with the terrain of Iron Peak County.

Compared to governing a prefecture, military campaigns were a job he was better at, more comfortable with, and felt more secure in.

But he was no longer just a soldier—he had realized this back in Wolf Town.

Colonel Bode was also present at the meeting.

Colonel Bode remained noncommittal about Winters' "rebellion," and the two continued to get along as well as ever, as if Winters were still the centurion of the expeditionary force.

Winters did not ask any questions.

In Winters' view, beneath Colonel Bode's calm, deep-seated exterior probably lies struggle and confusion:
He fought desperately, was captured and enslaved, and dragged his broken body back to his homeland only to find that his homeland was dead; it was still a matter of debate which of the two new republics could truly represent Palatour; his old followers had already raised the banner of rebellion, but it was precisely because of these rebellious old followers that he was able to escape from the wasteland by sheer luck.

All emotions and grudges are intertwined, impossible to sever or untangle.

Winters was unable to console the colonel and could only wait for the colonel to sort out his own thoughts.

Winters invited the colonel to the meeting, and the colonel did not object. Thus, a one-armed middle-aged man quietly listened in the corner of the meeting room.

Colonel Bode accompanied Winters, first to a civil council meeting, then to a petition from the citizens of Gevordan, and finally to an inspection of the Gevordan warehouses.

Before the warehouse inspection was even finished, news came from outside the city that Samukin and the Wolf Town labor camp had just arrived on the outskirts of the city.

Colonel Bode and Winters then rushed out of the city to hand over the "Great Labor Camp" to Samukin.

Previously, prisoners of war in Vaughan were randomly assigned to various military settlements to assist with autumn plowing, while the military settlements were also used to supervise the prisoners of war.

Now the soldiers in each village are regrouping, and the prisoners of war can no longer remain in their respective villages; they must also be gathered together again.

After finishing all the work, it was almost dark when Winters dragged his tired body back to Ghevorden with Colonel Bode.

All day long, the colonel seemed to be Winters's shadow, barely speaking, just watching silently. Many people even thought that the one-armed middle-aged man was the tribune's attendant or bodyguard.

But the day wasn't over yet; Andrei and Mason were waiting at the garrison for Winters to start a meeting.

Colonel Bode accompanied Winters to the meeting, while Don Juan and Moritz were absent—Winters did not want the colonel to know of the presence of the two Vineta officers for the time being.

Lieutenant Colonel Moritz was always reluctant to hold meetings, while Don Juan had already led a light cavalry into the wasteland for reconnaissance. Both abstained from voting, so their absence did not affect decision-making.

How should the warhorses be concentrated? Where should the supplies be piled up? How should the nearly 300-kilometer-long riverbank be defended? Should the militia be conscripted? After discussing and deciding on one issue after another, only one issue remained: whether or not to inform the New Reclamation Army of the enemy situation.

"Report my ass!" Andrei scoffed. "Let alone whether the legion believes us or not. What are we supposed to say if they ask us, 'How did you know about the barbarians' movements?'"

'That's what another group of barbarians told us.'

'The rebels are colluding with the barbarians! Wipe them out!'

After playing two roles, Andri concluded, "Damn it, in the end the Legion and the Barbarians will definitely fight us together."

"That's not entirely true," Mason retorted weakly.

"You can't say that?" Andrei sneered. "We're the rebels, and the Hed people are barbarians. Rebels fighting barbarians, the legion won't lose out no matter who dies. Just you wait and see!"

Andrei became more and more agitated as he spoke: "If you ask me, not only should we not inform the New Reclamation Legion, but we should also find a way to lure the barbarians to Vone County. In terms of wealth, isn't Vone County much richer than Iron Peak County? Let them fight like dogs! It will just distract the Legion and prevent them from thinking about us."

“We don’t need to deliberately lure him to Vaughan County; Monkey Buttface will go there on his own.” Winters pondered. “Last time, he clenched his fist and got hurt. This time, he’ll definitely spread his arms wide and attack from multiple angles. He’ll make us unable to defend one side at a time. The new settlement’s border is over 700 kilometers long… not a single kilometer is safe.”

Upon hearing this, Colonel Bode, who had been listening silently, suddenly exclaimed, "The tide has turned."

Winters, Andre, and Mason all looked at the colonel.

Colonel Bode asked the young men with a bitter expression, "Do you know why we haven't touched Teldon's department even once in all these years?"

Winters shook his head. How could outsiders like them possibly know about the decision-making process of the Plato Army?

“Because they are the most honest and obedient,” Colonel Bode said with a bitter expression. “In order to maintain the balance of power among the Harts, we attacked the Harts on the north bank and let the Harts on the south bank go. Back then, the wider the border, the better, so we could attack from any point. Now, it’s their turn to tear us apart.”

……

Dark clouds loomed over the city, and a storm was brewing. While Winters, Bart Sharling, and many others were preparing for battle day and night, a trivial matter occurred in Gévordan: a man returned home.

Aksinia, who was putting her child to sleep, heard someone knocking on the door.

It was already dark, and only vagrants and drunkards looking to take advantage of her would knock on her door.

Aksinia remained silent, pretending no one was home, but the knocking continued unhurriedly.

Aksinia was a little scared. She first hid the two children in the wardrobe, then took the fire tongs and carefully walked to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked.

“It’s me,” a tired voice replied.

Aksinia's heart was pounding. She flung open the door, and there stood her husband, Ivan.

The fire tongs fell to the ground, bounced once, and then stopped moving.

There were no hugs, no tears, and no smiles; Aksinya stood quietly.

At the age of seventeen, Aksinya married Ivan. The previous autumn, her father had been beaten to death with a cart shaft by her brother and mother.

So Aksinia silently left Wangqiao Town to marry into Zhevodan. The day after the wedding, her new husband brutally beat her. After she gave birth, the violence lessened, but it never stopped.

During their blind date, Aksinya might have had some attraction to the tall and handsome Ivan. But now, she felt no love, only the instinct for survival and a numb indifference to life.

The only light that shone into her life was her beloved children. Without them, she might have died long ago.

Aksinia couldn't quite recognize the person outside: the person was very tall, but very thin, like a reed that could be blown down by the wind; his back was unconsciously hunched, and his shoulders were slumped.

The person outside the door seemed to be Ivan, but then again, he didn't.

"I..." The person outside the door licked his dry lips and spoke with difficulty, "...Did you petition the tribunal for me?"

Aksinia neither nodded nor shook her head; she simply stood quietly.

The person outside the door struggled to speak, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down: "Thank you."

A few drops of scalding liquid fell onto the back of Aksinia's hand; they were tears.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. The strong Aksinia bit her hand, knelt on the ground, and wept uncontrollably.

The person outside the door hugged Aksinya, as if swearing an oath: "I...I will never...never hit you again..."

“You said that before,” Aksinia murmured painfully. “You said that before too.”

The person outside the door trembled, tears welling up in their eyes as well. They took Aksinia's hand and placed it on the holy emblem branded on her chest.

Aksinia heard the man swear, "This is the last time."

[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
[Whether or not to give a scumbag a chance at redemption...it's a real dilemma. If it were Winters' old personality, he would have killed someone like Ivan without hesitation, without a second thought afterward.]
[Ivan was captured precisely after Winters realized he had to execute him with due procession, not just on a whim. Had it been before, Ivan would have been dead long ago.]
[Therefore, even though Winters himself was starving, he spared Ivan's life despite his waste of food.]
[I recall that it was Samukin who said, "Keeping them locked up is a waste of food; I think it would be better to kill them all." Winters replied, "The reason of not having food is not enough for the death penalty, and it's not a valid argument."]
[This probably triggers a plot branch: Should we kill Ivan?]
[My initial idea for this plot was that, for Winters, making this decision probably didn't take more than a second of thought; Ivan's life or death rested on his shoulders. However, for Ivan, Aksinya, and their child, it would have a lifetime-long impact. Although Winters might not feel it yet, I hoped this event would make him understand the weight of power.]
[Furthermore, seeing Aksinya and receiving Ivan's redemption is not for Ivan's sake, but for Aksinya's. It's like rewriting the fate of a tragic character in another time, another universe, and another book.]
Thank you everyone.
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(End of this chapter)