Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 282 Confrontation
The eve of a storm is not always calm.

The arrival of the blue horsehair banner was like the sounding of war drums, and the dormant Teldun people sprang into action.

The sentries on the riverbank could hear the noisy voices, hammering sounds, and turning wheels from the west bank all night long.

Meanwhile, Teldun's light cavalry swept across the riverbanks inch by inch.

Winters's hidden outposts on the opposite bank were either forced to evacuate or tragically killed.

A flexible, invisible, yet impenetrable net was spread out on the west bank of the Dajiao River, completely cutting off the outside world's view.

It was obvious that the Teldenans were rushing to build river-crossing equipment, which could be sheepskin rafts, pontoon bridges, or even warships.

No one knows exactly what the Teldon tribe is building, but one thing is clear—the Fireman is going to the other side, and he doesn't care if the people on the other side know about it.

The soldiers and civilians of Tiefeng County were also preparing for war day and night.

The reeds, shrubs, and trees along the river were all cut down and burned. Watchtowers and beacon towers rose up, tightly controlling every inch of the river and giving the enemy no chance to cross it in disguise.

The situation was like two ferocious beasts facing off, neither growling nor baring their teeth, because they both knew perfectly well that the other could not be intimidated.

So the two beasts adopted a truly desperate stance: their bodies crouched low, their muscles taut, staring intently at their enemy, silently gathering their strength.

The atmosphere grew heavy without anyone noticing. Even the veterans felt a growing tension, not to mention the ordinary people.

If we're talking about who can eat well and sleep soundly, it seems to be only Winters Montagne.

Among the Oxhoof Valley representatives, who looked haggard and tired, Winters was the only one with a smile on his face.

"Gentlemen," Winters began, "you are all respectable gentlemen of this town, the true heads of Bullhoof Valley. With a formidable enemy at hand, I have summoned you here for only one purpose."

Upon hearing this, some representatives turned pale, some had lifeless eyes, and some appeared numb.

What else could it be? Nothing more than increased taxes and levies.

The town hall was so quiet you could hear your own pulse; everyone was waiting for the final decision.

Winters paused briefly, looked around at everyone, and clearly uttered a single word: "Toilet."

Half of the people in the hall thought they had misheard.

The other half shifted uncomfortably, thinking that the tribunal was going to introduce a new tax—a toilet tax.

"Starting from this morning, Cowhoof Valley is officially under military control." Winters explained to the representatives in a friendly manner: "Military control means the application of military law. Military law strictly prohibits urinating or defecating indiscriminately."

He admonished, "I saw someone setting up two planks on the windowsill and squatting on them to relieve themselves. This behavior is now strictly prohibited. Violators will be fined, whipped, or forced into hard labor. I hope you will all set an example and convey this message carefully. Do you understand?"

The impromptu meeting discussed only this one matter and ended quickly.

The elected representatives walked out of the town office in a daze, stood on the street looking at each other, none of them able to say a word.

They wouldn't have been so astonished even if the Montagne tribunes had ordered taxes to be collected thirty years later.

But the gentry could never have imagined that the official who had solemnly summoned them was actually only there to "dig toilets".

“This…this…” A tall, thin elected representative’s face turned red as he complained in a low voice, “What is this? The barbarians are right across the river, and instead of thinking about fighting, they’re teaching us to dig toilets? What kind of general are they! Can we fight a war like this? I think Oxhoof Valley is doomed sooner or later! Let’s find a way to get to Revodan.”

Another short, stout representative scoffed: "What do you know? Calmness in the face of danger and decisive command—that's the demeanor of a great general. I think this Blood Wolf is truly capable; his reputation is well-deserved."

"I don't understand, but you do?" the tall, thin representative retorted defiantly.

“I actually know that,” the short, stout representative said smugly. “Back in the day, I was one of General János’s close followers. If I hadn’t taken an arrow to the arm, I might have…”

"What utter nonsense about personal attendants! They just seize any opportunity to brag." The tall, thin representative mercilessly exposed the other man, mocking, "They're nothing but servants! If you were General János's personal attendant, would you still be here?"

“Never mind that, I know more than you anyway.” The short, stout representative’s face flushed red and then turned pale as he confronted the tall, thin man: “Let me tell you! When General János was fighting, he didn’t care about anything else, he only checked whether the laborers were fed. According to you, General János couldn’t fight either?”

Tall and thin people and short and fat people have always been at odds, and they will quarrel whenever they have the chance, and occasionally they will even get serious.

A seasoned public representative stepped aside and tried to smooth things over, saying gently, "You're both right, you're both right. Your Excellency is right too. Niu Ti Gu used to have less than three hundred people, but now? Several thousand! If an epidemic breaks out, none of us will escape. If you want us to dig toilets, then let's dig them. Toilets can be used to store saltpeter, isn't that good?"

"Go ahead and dig if you want! He even wants to separate men and women!" The tall, thin man shouted angrily, "My family is living happily together, why should we separate? And why should I let someone else live in my house? Why should I?"

"Keep your voice down! Are you out of your mind?" Representative Lao Cheng quickly stopped the other person: "If someone hears you saying this to me, I'll be implicated. You don't care about your life, but we do!"

The short, stout man said resentfully, "Don't stop him, and don't try to persuade him. Just let him go against Blood Wolf and see if Blood Wolf will take him down!"

After saying that, the short, stout representative turned and left.

"Where are you going?" The tall, thin representative suddenly felt a little scared—afraid that the other party would report him.

"Dig a toilet!" The short, stout representative left without looking back.

The other representatives, finding the meeting uninteresting, also dispersed.

Samukin, who came to see Winters, happened to witness this little farce.

Samukin said nothing, but memorized the faces of the men. He dismounted and strode into the town hall.

Seeing Samukin's anxious appearance, Winters joked, "What's wrong? Monkey-faced, you can't hold your temper anymore and want to start a fight?"

Samukin stood at attention and replied, "I have a young man under my command who went across the river to scout and just came back."

"River crossing reconnaissance?" A line immediately appeared on Winters' brow: "When did the Volunteer Battalion get assigned river crossing reconnaissance missions?"

Reconnaissance is no easy task. To conduct reconnaissance in enemy-controlled territory requires the most reliable and capable personnel.

Therefore, if one step is wrong, capturing someone can turn into handing them over, and scouting enemy positions can turn into sending intelligence to the enemy.

“He…he went by himself.” Samukin’s face was full of helplessness: “That kid, sigh, he’s clever and a good swimmer. He first put a Hart’s robe in a basket and floated it to the other side, then he swam across the river.”

Winters sighed heavily: "It's good that he's back. Bring him to see me."

“That kid,” Samukin said, lowering his head and clutching his hat, “was seriously injured and is on the verge of death. He can’t even speak. He just keeps repeating ‘wooden’ and ‘wooden’.”

"Is he still alive?" Winters leaned on the table and stood up abruptly.

"Only one breath left."

"Take me to him." Winters, ignoring the stiffness in his left leg, strode towards the door: "Charles!"

"I'm here!" Charles, who was brushing his horse, rushed over.

"Go find Kaman!"

……

It was a boy who secretly crossed the river to investigate.

The boy had big eyes, big ears, and a big head. He had a small scar on the tip of his nose and was a clever boy who was instantly likable.

Judging by his appearance... he's not even fifteen yet.

But Samukin said that the "boy" was actually seventeen years old, but he was thin and small because he didn't have enough to eat in the past.

Just look at the calluses on his hands, and you'll know he's a qualified man.

Now, his life may be frozen at the age of seventeen forever. He was hit by three arrows, one in his left arm and one in his left leg, all penetrating wounds.

The arrows that struck his left arm and left leg were not the most fatal; the most fatal arrow was the third one, which entered from his back and exited from his abdomen.

The young man, barely alive, still had his lips moving slightly.

Only by getting as close as possible can you barely hear the word "wood".

Winters, Kaman, the injured man—there was no fourth person in the room.

An unprecedented argument has just erupted between Winters and Kaman—because the latter disagrees with the use of divine magic.

“Listen to me, it’s not that I’m unwilling to help.” After the argument, although Kaman’s face was pale, he patiently explained to Winters, “Divine magic… divine magic can’t do everything…”

Winters suppressed his anger: "God isn't omnipotent?"

"Of course, God is omniscient and omnipotent!" Kaman retorted, "But I have limitations!"

“I’m not asking you to bring the dead back to life! He’s alive! He’s not dead! He’s alive!” Winters gritted his teeth, even pleading in a low voice, “I beg you, I beg you! I only ask that you mend his wounds, just like you did for Andrei! I beg you! I beg you!”

Kaman hesitated and struggled, staring intently into Winters' eyes, trying to discern Winters' intention to steal the secrets of divine magic.

But he found nothing, which only made him more certain that Winters genuinely wanted to save the child.

Kaman struggled and struggled, struggling and struggling, and with great difficulty uttered the words: "Cellini did not injure any internal organs!"

“Why can’t the internal organs work?!” Winters roared.

Kaman was also on the verge of losing control. He roared back in a fit of rage, "No means no! The internal organs just won't work! Cellini stopped the bleeding in time, but the child has already lost too much blood! Forcing him to use divine magic might kill him instantly! Understand?! Understand!!!"

Winters was still somewhat lucid, and he realized that his actions at this moment were tantamount to taking the opportunity to peek into the secrets of divine magic.

“I won’t ask! I won’t ask anything! I won’t look, I won’t listen!” Winters gripped Kaman’s arm tightly. “Just save him, just save him! Isn’t that enough?”

Kaman remained silent.

“I know, I know this is unfair to you! It’s so unfair, the most unfair of all! But only you can save him now! He’s a believer too! He’s your lamb too!”

Kaman composed himself and said coldly, "Just assume I don't want to save you!"

"Using divine magic might lead to death, but not using it will certainly result in death!" Winters struggled to suppress his emotions and maintain his rationality: "We have to try!"

“Even if he didn’t die on the spot, he would have died within the next few days.” Kaman pulled his arm away, his eyes cold. “If you truly cared about him, you should have let me prepare his final confession, instead of prolonging his life and letting him struggle in agony for days before receiving God’s grace!”

"What do you mean?" Winters asked, feeling betrayed.

"You know what I mean."

"You think I asked you to save him because of the information in his head?" Winters' shoulders and fingertips were trembling. "Is that what you think?"

“Only you know what you’re thinking.” Kaman hardened his heart, gripped the holy emblem, and avoided Winters’s gaze.

"That arrow to the thigh was enough to incapacitate him! The arrow to the stomach could have killed him instantly!" Winters' emotions erupted like a torrent, and he roared in grief and rage:

"Even so, he struggled to swim across the Big Horn River! The Big Horn River, where people can freeze to death! How can you not understand? He wanted to live! Even though it was very painful, he wanted to live! It's not that I want him to suffer, but that he wants to live! Even if there's only a sliver of hope, he wants to live! How can you not understand!"

Kaman had his back to Winters, so he couldn't see his expression.

The gold chain adorned with the holy emblem carved a deep groove into the back of Kaman's neck. Eventually, the chain gave way and snapped.

Kaman whirled around, swung his arm, and delivered a powerful right hook to Winters.

The moment the fist came crashing down, Winters instinctively went into a spellcasting state, but he suppressed his instincts to counterattack and defend, gritted his teeth, and took the punch head-on.

Winters staggered from the blow, but as he slowly regained his balance, he moved his jaw and asked, "Do you want to hit me again? I can let you hit me one more time."

Kaman, supporting himself on his knees and panting heavily, ultimately refrained from throwing a second punch. He walked to the bedside, set down the holy emblem, and solemnly cleaned his hands.

Winters consciously avoided the situation.

The commanders and soldiers outside, having heard the heated argument between the two inside, had already moved to a more distant location.

So now only Winters was left outside the door.

Winters sat silently outside the door, his hand on his chin. The pain gradually subsided, and he began to feel a slight swelling.

Samukin heard the argument subside and saw Winters leave, so he cautiously walked over.

Seeing Winters' swollen left cheek, Samukin was shocked: "What... he... Kaman... Father Kaman beat you up?"

“Come here,” Winters called to Samukin.

Samukin, without a second thought, obediently walked to Winters' side, and then got a real beating.

"Beat me up?" Winters was furious, but instead started laughing: "Come on, explain to me what you mean by 'beat me up'!"

"Then what... what happened to you?" Samukin was completely bewildered.

Winters thought for a moment and replied, "Father Kaman's condition for helping me was that I take a punch from him without fighting back."

"Such an exchange?" Samukin didn't believe it, but he nodded vigorously: "I see, I understand."

Winters rubbed his cheek and slowly moved his jaw: "Hopefully this kid can pull through, and I won't have taken this punch for nothing."

Samukin straightened up, composed himself, and saluted solemnly: "Centurion, I thank you on behalf of that lad."

Winters returned the gesture, saying nonchalantly, "Trading a punch for a chance to live is quite a bargain."

“To be able to punch you, Father Kaman is also…” Samukin thought for a long time before finally managing to squeeze out a word: “Worthy of being remembered for a lifetime.”

"He saved a life, and that's something to remember for a lifetime."

"Don't worry, Centurion," Samukin said confidently. "This lad has a lucky life; he always manages to escape death. He's incredibly resilient, like a poplar or willow tree—even a dead branch stuck in the ground can sprout. He's also a master basket weaver."

"What's his name?"

"Call him Claude."

As he spoke, Kaman pushed open the door and walked out of the room. He looked coldly at Winters: "I repaired his organs and treated the wounds on his left arm and left leg. I left a small opening in his abdominal cavity to drain the pus and blood."

"Repair organs?" Samukin exclaimed, his eyes wide. But he was immediately silenced by Winters's gaze.

“Thank you,” Winters said to Kaman.

“Don’t thank me. He was lucky he didn’t die on the spot. Even so, I only managed to prolong his life. Death is just a little later, and he will suffer unimaginable torment before God’s grace.” Kaman stared at Winters: “I hope you won’t regret it.”

“I don’t regret it.” Winters looked at him calmly. “Neither do you need to regret it.”

Kaman walked away expressionlessly. He had underestimated the vitality and will to survive of this young man named "Claude."

That evening, just four hours later, Claude regained consciousness from his coma.

“Wood.” Claude said weakly, “The barbarians are collecting burnt wood and dragging it back from even further away.”

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(End of this chapter)