Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 355 The Hunt

Chapter 355 The Hunt (Final)

Pierre, situated in a corner, had no view of the entire hunting grounds, while Winters, standing atop Green Hill, had a panoramic view.

The sandstorm subsided, but the fighting outside the hunting grounds not only did not stop, but became even more frenzied.

Many small tribes that had been summoned to participate in the hunt had already left, but soon returned to the hunting grounds, as if something in the dust was driving them away.

Mu Lu dispatched palace guards to quell the riot, while Winters quickly inspected and assessed Qingqiu's defenses.

All of Chihe Tribe's arrangements in Qingqiu were aimed at demonstrating their power. In order to allow visitors from all directions to see the magnificent and imposing golden tent of the White Lion, the foundation of the central area of Qingqiu was artificially raised, and no buildings or fortifications that might obstruct the view were deliberately omitted.

Looking at Qingqiu as a whole, apart from its altitude, it has no other geographical advantages.

All conclusions lead to Winters' initial conjecture: from the very beginning, Qingqiu was the sweetest bait in the trap.

The Chihe tribe members who stayed behind at the hunting grounds drew their bows and spears and rode their horses down Qingqiu; among the hunters from various tribes who were running around like wolves and boars, some were eager to make their move.

The arrow was already nocked, the bow was creaking, and all that remained was for the enraged god to beat the war drums.

“I’ll take you away,” Winters said to Erlun. Time was of the essence, and Winters’s attitude was firm and left no room for argument.

Erlun was initially delighted, but her eyes quickly dimmed again.

“The fact that the white lion is not in Qingqiu proves that the outcome of this battle does not lie within the hunting grounds, but outside of them.” Winters explained succinctly: “Since the beacon fire has already been lit, Qingqiu only needs to keep a palace tent and a large banner. You don’t need to continue acting as bait.”

"You know what? I've wanted to hear you say that, I've dreamed of it." Erlun's eyes were filled with tears, and the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned: "But not like this."

Winters didn't care about the Red River Tribe, nor did he care about the White Lion, but he cared about Erlun. He grabbed Erlun's arm and, without saying a word, led him towards the horse stable.

“I’m sorry… Little Lion is still in Qingqiu…” Erlun stood stubbornly in place, tears streaming down his face: “…I can’t go with you…”

"boom!"

Suddenly, three cannon shots rang out in succession—it was the gunners from Qingqiu giving a warning.

Winters looked in the direction the smoke was pointing and saw two groups of people colliding head-on.

One side consisted of cavalrymen from the Chihe tribe, clad in iron armor and with swaying feathers on their heads; the other side was dressed as ordinary hunters, their identities unknown.

At the edge of the hunting grounds, the Red River tribe's cavalry remained within the felt wall. The leader, Red Feather [Black Sheep], fired three whistling arrows in quick succession and shouted sternly, "[Herd] If you still respect the White Lion, all tribesmen, step back immediately! Dismount! Take one step into the felt wall and you will be killed without mercy!"

However, the approaching riders were terrified and cried for help as they frantically crossed the felt wall.

Red Feather [Black Sheep] of the Red River Tribe hardened his heart and roared, "[Herd] Anyone who enters the hunting grounds, kill without mercy!"

Having said that, Red Feather drew his bow to its fullest extent and fired a whistling arrow, pinning down a hunter named Hart who was scaling a felt wall.

The sound of whistling arrows piercing the air was like a command to slaughter. The armored soldiers of the Chihe tribe no longer had any scruples and waved their scimitars and shot arrows without hesitation.

Those who tried to escape over the felt wall fell one after another. Those who tried to escape along the sides of the felt wall were also caught up from behind and hacked to death. Only those who escaped back to the outside of the felt wall managed to escape with their lives.

However, the hunters who escaped the felt wall only lived a little longer.

Soon, another cavalry force emerged from the dust, roaring "Red River Tribe Suppression!" and slaughtered all the Hed people who had escaped from the felt wall.

"[Herd] The Red River Tribe's rebellion is quelled?" The real Red River Tribe's Red Feather [Black Sheep] roared in fury: "[Herd] Rotten meat! Rotten meat that's even more stinking than what you'd pull out of a wild boar's intestines! They're the real wolves causing trouble!"

Black Ram, spear in hand, charged straight at the enemy leader, shouting: "[Herd's words] By the gods! Kill!"

The armored cavalry of the Chihe tribe shouted in unison and followed the centurion as he leaped over the felt wall.

Swords against swords, bows against bows, the two cavalry forces engaged in a bloody melee.

The Chihe tribe suffered a setback as soon as they engaged the enemy. Their scimitars and spears pierced and slashed the enemy's torso, producing only muffled thuds without drawing blood. Meanwhile, the enemy's maces and warhammers were specifically aimed at smashing into the necks and heads of the Chihe warriors.

The black sheep immediately sensed something was wrong and roared at the top of its lungs, "[Herd] The wolf cub is wearing dark armor! The wolf cub is wearing dark armor!"

Even without Red Feather's reminder, the Red River tribe's armored cavalry, who had suffered losses but were still alive, had long since abandoned their spears and drawn their maces to continue fighting the enemy.

Winters, who witnessed the encounter, did not speak, but his tightly furrowed brow and taut cheeks gave a silent assessment.

Also witnessing this encounter was Qinglingyu [Mulu]. Banners waved and cannons roared on Qingqiu as Mulu frantically mobilized more troops.

Winters stopped watching the fight and, pulling Erlun along, strode towards the cub's tent.

Black Sheep's engagement was like a signal salvo; the instant Winters turned around, more than a dozen cavalry squads leaped over the felt wall and charged into the hunting grounds.

Each cavalry unit was shouting "White Lion Arrow Command" and "Red River Tribe Suppression," even disrupting the concentration of the Eagle Forest Tribe's troops.

The Eagle Forest tribe, the maternal clan of the White Lion, has always been considered the closest ally of the Red River tribe. The Eagle Forest tribe participates in the hunt as a vassal tribe, remaining hidden among the other tribes outside the hunting grounds as a rearguard of the Red River tribe.
The sudden appearance of so many "Red River Tribe troops" left even the Eagle Forest Tribe members dumbfounded.

Which one is real? Which one is fake?
"[Hede] You idiot!" Tie Feng, the leader of the Eagle Forest tribe and the White Lion's uncle, shouted angrily, "[Hede] What do you mean by true or false?! Anyone who dares to go to Qingqiu will be killed!"

The Eagle Forest cavalry then charged into the hunting grounds with shouts, crashing headlong into the surging tide of the "Red River tribe's troops."

On the hilltop, the stag's forehead was beaded with sweat. He began to regret the boastful words he had made in front of Champion Palatine.

Mu Lu anticipated that the Eastern Sea and Suz tribes would send troops to infiltrate the hunting grounds, but he never imagined that the Eastern Sea and Suz tribes would invest such a large sum of money.

The only high ground also meant facing attacks from all directions. The circular hunting ground with a radius of five kilometers centered on Qingqiu had now become a veritable meat grinder.

The cavalry loyal to the White Lion are risking their lives to intercept enemies from all directions, while enemies from all directions are also relentlessly attacking Qingqiu.

Looking around, all I could see were battlefields and enemies.

Close your eyes and listen; everywhere you hear shouts and screams.

In a moment of distraction, the stag had the illusion that it was surrounded by a massive army.

The small number of ambushes sent in by the Eastern Sea and the Suz tribes alone could not possibly have achieved such power. There must have been tribes that participated in the hunt who were turned against their own side by the Eastern Sea and the Suz tribes, and there must have been... and quite a few of them.

The twelve heavy cannons specially positioned at Qingqiu became meaningless, as enemy cavalry had already reached the gunners before a round of reloading was even completed.

At this moment, the troops of the Chihe tribe were like an overburdened dam. Despite risking their lives and exerting all their strength, they could not stop the flood from overflowing the dam.

Only eighty guards and quiver soldiers remained by the stag's side, responsible for protecting the White Lion's Golden Tent.

The stag removed its golden horn, and the horn that summoned warriors to the final bloody battle resounded across Qingqiu.

Meanwhile, in the lion cub's sleeping tent.

The white-haired doctor, holding prayer beads, respectfully answered Erdun's question.

Winters' tone was sharp: "What did he say?"

“The lion cub’s injuries have just stabilized. If he is subjected to any more jolting, he will die.” Erlun hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.

"What else did he say?" Winters immediately realized that Erlun was hiding something.

“The healer Shirgu told us to leave, saying he could protect the lion cub.” Erlun made up his mind and looked at Winters pleadingly: “Shirgu is a famous healer on the grassland. He can protect the lion cub, and he can protect me too. Go, don’t worry about us.”

Winters didn't believe that an old, dying healer could protect the safety of the white lion's brother and sister. He also understood that although Erlun seemed weak, his stubbornness was no less than Anna's.

He couldn't persuade Erlun to abandon the cub and run away, just as the cub couldn't persuade Erlun to abandon him and run away.

The earth trembled, and shouts of battle filled the air, which even the thick leather of the sleeping tent could not block out.

“There’s another way.” Winters slowly moved his finger bones and wrist joints.

Erlun and Shiergu, the ancient healers, looked at Winters with puzzlement.

"The people outside only want two things. One is the Azure Banner of the Red River Tribe. The other is..." Winters looked at the tattered, blood- and mud-stained crimson armor hanging beside the little lion, and uttered a single word heavily:

"White Lion".

Erlun covered his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes, and shook his head, backing away repeatedly.

Winters severed the sashes binding his body, ripped off his original armor, and pointed at the White Lion Armor, which stood silently like a ghost in the center of the bedchamber:
"Armor me!"

Erlun did not move. The old doctor Shiergu stood up and said a few words to the others in the bedchamber.

The female slaves serving in the lion cub's bedchamber sprang into action.

Breastplate, skirt armor, shoulder armor, arm armor... the crimson armor hanging on the wooden frame was dismembered piece by piece and then fixed onto Winters' body.

Erlun held up the last sash and, trembling, put it on Winters and fastened it.

“The white lion has a purpose, the little lion has a purpose, the Red River tribe has a purpose, and the Red River tribe’s enemies also have a purpose.” Winters stared at Erlun as if he were waking up in the yurt for the first time: “I have no purpose… I did all this just for you.”

After saying his farewells, Winters removed his visor and strode out of the little lion's tent. The guards and archers protecting the White Lion's golden tent witnessed the White Lion going into battle once again, and their fear and shock were beyond measure.

Shirgu chased after him from the bedchamber, carrying a bull-horn cup. The old healer bowed deeply, raised the cup high, and spoke in the Imperial language: "Batu, please drink this wine!"

Winters burst into laughter as if he had just realized something, without saying anything more. He simply lifted his visor, took the goblet, and drank it all in one gulp.

Taking this opportunity, the guards and quiver-wielders protecting the golden tent realized that beneath the red armor lay not lions, but wolves.

Winters threw down the horn: "Warhorse!"

As Winters relayed the message, several quiver-wielding soldiers immediately rushed towards the horse stable.

More and more Red River warriors gathered around Winters, approaching him as if on a pilgrimage, yet maintaining a respectful distance.

The armored soldiers suddenly parted to make way for the stag, who led an extremely magnificent white horse through the crowd and bowed his head to hand the reins to Winters.

“This… is White Lion’s horse,” Shirgo translated for the guard.

"what is it call?"

The stag answered a name proudly and loudly.

After a moment's thought, Shiergu exclaimed, "Long Wind!"

“Changfeng?” Winters was overjoyed. “A good name! Perfect for today.”

After saying this, he removed his face armor, stepped onto his horse, and mounted the horse.

The warriors of the Chihe tribe, as if summoned, mounted their warhorses one after another.

"No need! You stay here to protect Erlun and the lion cub."

"[Herd] Batu!" A silver-armored archer spurred his horse forward: "[Herd] I am willing to lead the way!"

As soon as he finished speaking, eleven more silver-armored archers stepped forward; they were the twelve "guards" that the stag had previously chosen for Winters.

"Good!" Winters drew the azure banner standing before the golden tent with a backhand: "Twelve riders are enough to break through enemy lines!"

……

The chieftain of the Stone Cliff tribe, [Geha], frantically spurred his warhorse, whose ribs were already mangled and its chest was covered in white foam.

The Chihe tribe's armored cavalry were left far behind by [Geha], and the Shiya tribe's scimitars were only three arrow-lengths away from Qingqiu...

Two arrows...

One arrow to the ground.

The magnificent white lion's tent was almost within reach, and Gerha felt as if he could reach out and grab it.

"[Herd] Kill!" Gerha couldn't think of any words to inspire his men, so he roared out his only desire at the top of his lungs: "[Herd] Kill!"

No one heard Gerhar's roar, because it was firmly suppressed by the roar of the twelve heavy cannons.

The next moment, a beast-like roar echoed across the hunting ground, and the bloody battle even paused for a moment.

Under the watchful eyes of half the hunting grounds, a red-armored knight leaped up from Qingqiu.

Upon catching a glimpse of that crimson hue, the members of the Red River tribe were instantly engulfed in an unprecedented frenzy: "Yasin!"

"Yasin!"

The other half of the hunting grounds couldn't witness the miracle with their own eyes, but as soon as the deafening cheers rang out, the same fervent emotion immediately spread—the white lion was back!

Gha stared blankly as the magnificent white horse leaped high and landed heavily. Each time the horse's hooves touched the ground, it felt as if they were striking Gha's heart.

Geha could hardly believe his eyes: the red-armored warrior riding a white horse was holding the azure banner of the Red River Tribe.

The banner may have a point, but Gerha had never seen anyone use such a heavy ceremonial object as a weapon.

There can't be any mistake, it can only be a white lion.

"[Herd] Aren't you already dead?!" Gerhar roared furiously, charging at the red-armored warrior with his spear: "[Herd] Aren't you already dead?!"

The next moment, Gerhar died.

As the viewpoint rotated in mid-air, a strange thought occurred to Ghar—so the Great Banner really could be used as a weapon.

Winters barely noticed Gerhar's death; he spurred his warhorse without restraint, crashing into the ranks of the Stone Cliff tribe like a thunderbolt.

Twelve silver-armored quiver warriors followed closely behind, and the stone cliff warriors were instantly reduced to dust.

Like a bucket of ice water poured into a pot of boiling oil, the Qingqiu hunting grounds came to a boil.

Everyone—the people of the Red River tribe and their enemies—rushed madly toward the "White Lion," the latter frantically trying to kill him, the former frantically trying to protect him.

Winters doesn't need to seek out enemies; he can simply charge ahead, and the enemies will come to him on their own.

The mead he drank before going into battle suppressed his senses, pain, and fatigue. At this moment, Winters was like a demon crawling out of hell, a demigod from ancient legends, and a berserker sung by the Northern Singers for generations, recklessly spewing death and fighting tirelessly.

Disintegration Spell, Disintegration Spell, Arrow Spell, Arrow Spell, launch one away, launch another away... Endless fighting spirit, boundless rage, limitless power.

Winters lied.

He did not enter the battlefield solely for Erlun.

At least, at this moment, all the repression, resentment, and pain were released in the killing. Winters couldn't remember the last time he had experienced such a thrilling and exhilarating battle.

He no longer needed to consider responsibilities, missions, family, friends, the future, the present... He didn't even need to think, he just needed to fight, fight, fight.

The enemies facing Winters died in increasingly gruesome ways, from initially having their brains precisely destroyed by the Disintegrate spell, to having their skulls ripped apart inside their helmets, and then having their limbs torn off their torsos by the violent power of magic.

The out-of-control magic even ignited the Azure Banner, and Winters charged through the flames and blood.

Gradually, everyone began to flee from him in a frenzy—both the followers and enemies of the Red River tribe.

Witnessing the red-armored warriors literally "stirring up a bloodbath," old Sergei's mouth went dry. He looked at the rest of the Iron Peak County delegation with lingering fear: "The barbarian chieftain... wasn't he dead? Or at least seriously injured? How... how..."

Anna stared intently at the figure of the red-armored white horse, clutched her chest, and whispered, "That's not the white lion."

"Who is that?" Old Sergei asked, both surprised and frightened.

Lieutenant Colonel Moritz sighed.

Old Sergei was struck dumb: "That's...that's the Montagne tribunal for the probate?"

Lieutenant Colonel Moritz sighed again.

Pierre gritted his teeth, mounted his warhorse, and drew his sword: "The centurion is fighting a bloody battle, how can we just stand by and watch! I will fight alongside the centurion! Who will come with me?!"

Without a word, old Sergei leaped onto his horse and laughed wildly, "I've only ever had two hobbies in my life: hunting wild animals and killing barbarians. Today I can finally have both!"

The people of Iron Peak laughed heartily, mounted their horses, and, led by Pierre, galloped toward the battlefield.

Lieutenant Colonel Moritz found a clean spot, sat down on the ground, took out his flask, and took a small sip.

……

In the distance, a cavalry force with neatly arranged banners and gleaming armor appeared on the horizon.

Although the cavalry looked tired, and the bloodstains on their armor and weapons had not yet been cleaned, their morale was high, and they were singing the victorious war song of the Heds in unison.

A blue-feathered figure galloped from the front of the group and stopped beside another blue-feathered figure in the middle of the group.

Qing Lingyu, who rushed to deliver the news, bowed and presented a scroll-shaped device with both hands. Half puzzled and half shocked, she said, "[Herd] White Lion, Qingqiu seems to be..."

Another Qinglingyu removed his helmet, revealing himself to be the White Lion who was originally supposed to be guarding Qingqiu.

The white lion took the scroll-like instrument from the archer, unrolled it, and held it to its eye, bringing distant still objects closer.

A moment later, the white lion put away the binoculars and shook his head regretfully.

“[Hede] Keep going.” He said, “[Hede] Keep singing.”

[The real battleground refers to the scenes between Erlun and Anna.]
[The false battleground refers to Winters turning Qingqiu into a battlefield of carnage.]
[The Hunting Scene is finished! Hooray!]
[Actually, when I first wrote the outline, I planned to finish the story in one long chapter, specifically divided into four sections: [Departure] - [Chase] - [Sudden Change] - [Ending], ending with a recapitulation of the opening story of [the Oathbreakers personally participating in the gladiatorial combat]. In the end, the hunt went on for eleven chapters, and the characters from the Empire still didn't make an appearance...]

[The purpose of the hunt scene itself is to illustrate the future direction of the Herd tribes. Winters's elimination of the Fire-Heater has far-reaching consequences. It not only creates trouble for the White Lions but also gives them an opportunity to rapidly grow stronger. Winters has to accelerate, and the White Lions have to accelerate as well.]
[After finishing this "unit," I feel a great sense of relief. To quote a famous saying, "It wasn't good, but it was finished, so it was good."]
[The arduous monsoon season is drawing to a close! Hooray!]
[The story that follows will be a bit lighter (???)]
[There must be magic! (Don't hit me!)]
[A map will be made (it's being drawn)]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, rewards, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)