Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 37 Fieldwork
Winters successfully obtained an internship at the Army Headquarters Military Police (hereinafter referred to as the Military Police), but he was the only one there. Since he knew that the Military Police was not a good place, he felt there was no need to bring Bard in as well, since Bard was not a spellcaster.

Bader wanted to go to the Equipment Department's Ma Zhengke branch, and Winters asked his uncle for help. Andrei, on the other hand, found his own way to get into the Training Department, and the three friends were temporarily separated.

Standing at the entrance to the military police station, Winters adjusted his collar, smoothed out the wrinkles in his uniform, and straightened his belt. After carefully tidying his appearance, he gently knocked three times on the door.

"Please come in." A slightly weak voice came from inside the house.

Winters pushed open the door, his cap tucked under his left arm. To his right was a square table, behind which sat a blond young man in his early twenties, writing something on a piece of paper.

He gave a crisp military salute, and the blond youth stood up in a fluster, awkwardly trying to return the salute, but then lowered his hand and finally bowed deeply.

The blond youth blushed and explained, "I'm not an officer, I'm just a scribe. You don't need to salute me."

Winters was also a little nervous, and didn't even notice that the blond youth was wearing civilian clothes, not military uniform. He smiled and extended his hand to the blond youth, who shook his hand shyly.

Are you looking for Lieutenant Colonel Field?

"Yes, I am Winters Montagne, and I have been assigned to work here for a year."

The blond young man hurriedly came out from behind the desk and led Winters into the office. He said, "The lieutenant colonel is not here right now. Please sit down and wait for a while. My name is Moruk, and I am the clerk in this office."

Winters was led by Morlück to a bench at the other end of the room to rest, and he carefully looked around the office.

The room assigned to the military police was on the second floor in a corner of the entire Army Headquarters building; clearly, someone wanted the lieutenant colonel to be as far away as possible.

Although the room was in a remote location, its corner location provided excellent natural light. The entire office was very tidy, with only a few desks, chairs, and filing cabinets; there were no decorative items, giving it a clean and refreshing feel.

Besides the door I came through, there were two other doors in the office. The space behind the western door looked larger, clearly Lieutenant Colonel Field's office. As for the other door, I had no idea what was behind it.

"Would you like some tea?" Moruk brought out a set of porcelain cups and placed them on the small table in front of Winters. It seemed the gendarmes hadn't received any guests in a long time, as the cups were covered in a layer of dust. Seeing this, Moruk quickly took out a handkerchief and wiped the cups clean.

"Don't bother, I don't drink tea." Winters quickly stopped Moruk. People in the Gulf region like to brew tea with spices such as pepper and cinnamon and tea leaves from the Far East. Winters found the taste strange and never used to it.

"What would you like to drink? Alcohol? Water?"

"Thank you, but no need to trouble yourself." Seeing Moruk's flustered state, Winters couldn't bear to see him continue to struggle. "Could you please show me around the military police office?"

Moruk scratched his head: "I can't really explain it. I'm just a clerk, so please forgive me if there are any errors."

"Please say."

"Actually, there's not much to say about the Military Police Headquarters. There are two officers—you're the third—and a hundred-man squad of military police. It's good that you're here for your apprenticeship. The work here is easy; you're only responsible for guarding Army Headquarters. Anyway, no one dares to cause trouble here, so you just need to arrange shifts for the guards."

So that's how it is. Winters finally understood why his uncle had said the military police headquarters was a department specifically set up for lieutenant colonels. Nominally military police, but really just guards; it was too much of a waste for a lieutenant colonel to lead only a hundred-man squad.

Moruk pointed to the door of the large room: "That's Lieutenant Colonel Field's office."

"Whose office is that other door?" Winters gestured to another door leading to a smaller room.

Without turning his head, Moruk said, "Oh, the officer in that office is on leave and hasn't been here for a long time. Now, the military police only have you and Lieutenant Colonel Field as officers."

Winters is actually having some regrets now. Bader went to the Horse Administration Department and carried on his family's ancestral horse-breeding skills; Andrei went to the Training Department, which should be quite interesting.

The group of over thirty classmates, who were originally quite lively, is now reduced to just me sitting here alone, and I suddenly feel a bit lonely.

As he was lost in thought, the door to the military police station was kicked open, and a powerful figure stormed into the room. Ignoring Winters' presence, the figure then kicked open Lieutenant Colonel Field's office and went inside.

A loud shout came from the office: "[A swear word that would make a deaf person cry]!"

A short while later, Lieutenant Colonel Field walked out of the office with a stiff expression, and Winters quickly stood at attention and saluted.

The lieutenant colonel, his voice hoarse, went straight to the point and asked Winters, "Who are you?"

Winters, with neither servility nor arrogance, presented his letter of assignment to the lieutenant colonel with both hands: "Trainee officer Winters Montagne, reporting for duty!"

Field took the dispatch letter, glanced at it briefly, and said in a lukewarm tone, "Hmm... Infantry Section?"

"Yes!"

Lieutenant Colonel Field's gaze shifted to the Triple Five Association badge hanging on Winters' chest.

"A spellcaster?"

"Yes!"

Which spells are you proficient in?

"Uh, it's fire-based."

Upon hearing that it was a fire-based spellcaster, Lieutenant Colonel Field chuckled dryly and pointed at Winters' chest: "Take off that badge, as if you're afraid outsiders won't know you're a spellcaster?"

It was only then that Winters noticed that Lieutenant Colonel Field was not wearing the Three-Five Association badge on his chest. He then thought of Major Moritz, who also did not wear a badge.

Winters was actually quite proud of his identity as a spellcaster; otherwise, he wouldn't have worn the badge every day at the military academy. However, he figured there must be a reason why neither of the two high-ranking officers wore the badge, so he quickly removed it and put it in his pocket.

Lieutenant Colonel Field looked Winters in the eye and said in a deep voice, "I have no other requirements, only two: keep your mouth shut and obey orders. If you can do these two things, we can get along very well. If you learn these two things, you will be a qualified officer."

"Yes, sir!" Winters snapped to attention with a tap of his boot heels.

How was the horseback riding?

"is acceptable."

"Did you come to the palace on horseback today?"

“No.” The Winters’ home is not far from Army Headquarters; it’s just a few steps away, so there’s no need to ride a horse.

"Go to the stables, bring out my horse, and then get yourself a horse. Wait for me at the gate."

Winters truly hadn't expected that he'd be sent out on fieldwork on his very first day of internship. Wasn't the work supposed to be easy, just scheduling shifts for the guards?
He saluted again crisply and decisively, then turned and was about to set off.

"Wait!" Lieutenant Colonel Field called out to Winters again: "Where's your sword?"

Winters was stunned: "I don't have a sword, only a longsword."

"How can an officer not carry a sword? Wait here."

Lieutenant Colonel Field strode back to his office. A moment later, he emerged carrying a military knife, tossed it to Winters, and said generously, "This is my Dusac, you can take it for now."

Winters caught the military knife thrown to him by the lieutenant colonel in mid-air. The knife and sheath together felt heavy in his hand, even heavier than a longsword.

The blade is slightly curved, with a blade length of approximately 80 centimeters. The hilt has a simple, curved guard, resembling a cavalry saber. The scabbard is entirely black and undecorated, except for a carving of an eagle's head at the end of the hilt.

He drew the knife about a hand's length away and saw that it was single-edged, with a thick back and a thin blade, two grooves along the edge, and the blade gleamed with a chilling light. He could also smell the odor of knife oil.

Without a doubt, this is a genuine piece that has been meticulously maintained.

"Go." The lieutenant colonel waved his hand.

Winters nodded, picked up his Dussac knife, and strode out of the military police station.

———This is the dividing line for the real ghostwriter———

He left Army Headquarters.

Field rode ahead on his black steed, while Winters followed behind on his own warhorse, keeping a half-horse length's distance.

This time, Lieutenant Colonel Field only took Warrant Officer Winters with him on the field mission, without any military police.

There were many pedestrians on the road, but the horses couldn't run fast; they could only walk briskly at small steps.

After traveling some distance and leaving the city, the number of pedestrians gradually decreased. Lieutenant Colonel Field no longer deliberately controlled the horse's speed, lightly flicking the whip and gently nibbling the spurs at the horse's ribs.

With just a gentle signal, his magnificent black horse immediately understood its master's meaning. It snorted happily, and the strong muscles in its limbs and chest suddenly exerted force, quickly increasing its speed and carrying the lieutenant colonel at breakneck speed along the dirt road on the outskirts of the city. The black horse also felt that the city was too stifling and wanted to have a good run.

The dark horse was happy, but Winters was frustrated.

He was already taller than the major, and with his physique, no matter how good his horsemanship was, he couldn't become a racehorse rider.

His horse was a military horse provided to officers by the Army Headquarters stables. It was not as good as the lieutenant colonel's black horse and was usually very overworked. In an instant, the lieutenant colonel's black horse pulled far ahead of him.

After running a few steps, Lieutenant Colonel Fidel realized that Winters had fallen behind. The colonel pulled on the reins, and the black horse, which had just warmed up and hadn't had enough of running, neighed in dissatisfaction and slowed down.

Winters then caught up, feeling somewhat embarrassed, and secretly resolved to find a truly good horse to race against the lieutenant colonel in a few days.

The two remained silent the entire way. The lieutenant colonel didn't say where they were going, and Winters didn't ask either. But the further they walked, the more familiar it felt to Winters. He tried hard to recall where he had walked this road before. Finally, he recognized it.

Isn't this the road to the customs prison?
Just as Winters had expected, the two stopped at the gate of the customs prison, the same place where Winters had been "invited" out two days earlier.

The lieutenant colonel handed the reins to Winters, then walked straight to the gate of the customs prison and kicked it hard. His strength was so great that the three-meter-high, six-meter-wide oak door trembled.

A small door opened in the main gate, and several fierce-looking guards rushed out carrying halberds. He was about to curse, but seeing the two officers in uniform, he swallowed his words.

The leader asked politely, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

The lieutenant colonel took a letter with an lacquered seal from his saddlebag and tossed it to the guard: "Give this to the person in charge here, and tell him to come out and see me."

The guards exchanged glances, and one of them quickly went to deliver the message.

A moment later, the main gate of the Customs Anti-Smuggling Bureau prison swung open, and the warden personally came out to greet Lieutenant Colonel Field, leading two army officers into the prison. Winters was slightly moved to be returning to this place in less than two days. Entering the prison as a guest, rather than a prisoner, felt completely different.

Instead of leading Fidel and Winters into the main prison building, the warden led them around the outer wall of the main building to a small stone house.

Before even approaching the small wooden-roofed, stone-walled house, Winters was hit by a nauseating stench. The warden, clearly prepared, took a sachet from his robes and covered his mouth and nose.

The lieutenant colonel, expressionless, looked at the warden, who couldn't even stand the stench, with eyes full of contempt and disdain. Winters, mimicking his superior, tried his best to keep a straight face and not show any discomfort.

The three stopped outside the stone house. The warden frowned and said, "The guards have been waiting at the archives building since early this morning. I've already sent someone to inform them, and they should be here soon."

He glanced slyly at the two army officers and said with a smile, "It stinks in here. You two should wait here and not go in."

Lieutenant Colonel Field gave the customs warden a deep look, letting out a cold snort from the depths of his nose. He then kicked the door open and entered, with Winters following closely behind.

Upon entering the stone house, the stench became even more intense and pungent, making one want to vomit up the last bit of food in their stomach. This stench reminded Winters of the most disgusting thing he could imagine in the world:
It was as if the putrid gas from a skunk carcass rotting in a closed cave for a hundred years was bubbling up.

Winters finally realized where he was—it was the prison morgue.

Inside the stone house, flies swarmed, and three naked male corpses were laid out on wooden planks, which was probably the source of the stench.

The body was covered in snowflake-like powder, which Winters determined to be salt.

Salting is an ancient method of preservation, used by soldiers of some civilizations to preserve enemy heads. However, salting clearly did not work well on these three individuals; some kind of liquid seeped from beneath their bodies, dripping slowly from the wooden planks onto the ground.

Two more people entered from outside the door. These two men covered their mouths and noses with cotton cloths containing spices. They were clearly quite surprised to see that the two army officers had entered the morgue without any protective gear to prevent odor.

The leader adjusted his hat brim and politely saluted the two officers. Winters returned the salute in the same manner, while the lieutenant colonel nodded expressionlessly.

The leader introduced himself quickly and directly: "I am Lop, an officer in the Customs Guard Department." He then pointed to the person behind him: "This is my adjutant, Cornaro."

Lieutenant Colonel Field didn't introduce himself; he went straight to the point: "Just these three corpses?"

"Not three," the security officer said with a wry smile. "It's four."

The officer waved his hand, and his adjutant went straight to the back of the room, lifted a dirty burlap sack, and beneath it lay the fourth corpse.

To be precise, this is not a whole corpse at all, but only a few pieces of a corpse. The original owner of this body had obviously suffered some unspeakable tragic experiences, which is why only half of it remains.

Winters had killed pirates and witnessed pirate prisoners being executed one by one on the deck by their own comrades. Most of them couldn't be slashed in the neck with one blow and had to be stabbed again, making for an extremely bloody scene.

He thought his mind had been tempered, but the horrific state of this half-body still made him unable to look directly at it. He turned his head slightly to avoid looking at it.

Lieutenant Colonel Field simply nodded expressionlessly.

Officer Lope, understandingly, said to Lieutenant Colonel Field, "The body has been examined. Let's discuss the rest outside. I know the two army officers are used to this and can ignore it. But I can't stay in this room for another second. Shall we go outside?"

Winters's goodwill towards the customs officer immediately increased, but he remained as composed as Lieutenant Colonel Field.

The lieutenant colonel nodded, and the four of them left the house. The warden outside the door had long since disappeared.

As Officer Lop walked, he explained in a relaxed tone, "The people in the prison only know how to use salt to preserve the body, but they don't know that to preserve a body, you have to remove the internal organs first. Now that the weather is hot, the outside of the body hasn't rotted, but the inside has, so it looks like this. But you can't blame them. When prisoners die in prison, they are usually kept for two days at most before their families take them away. If they don't have families, they are buried directly. They have never kept a body for this long before."

The four of them walked until they reached a spot more than 20 meters away from the morgue, upwind, before stopping.

Lop took a file from his adjutant and handed it to the lieutenant colonel, speaking slowly and deliberately: "Everything we've found is here. The four men lying inside arrived at Blue Harbor on a three-masted light ship called the Skua with your trainee officers this year..."

Lop had no idea the uproar his words had caused in Winters' heart. The morgue was dimly lit, and the facial muscles had distorted the faces of the dead, making it impossible for Winters to recognize who these people were.

So it wasn't until he heard what the customs officer said that he realized the three and a half people lying inside were the four passengers from the Skua. It seemed that none of the four of them had survived.

"...and then they were all killed at the dock." Lop, oblivious to the junior officer opposite him whose pupils contracted and whose breathing quickened, said, "The names, origins, and occupations of these four men are all a mystery. The perpetrators stole their belongings. None of their remaining personal items can identify them. As for the perpetrators, they fled on the spot, and now we have absolutely no leads. They sank one of our customs docks, and now we don't even know who to ask for compensation."

Lop took another file from his adjutant and handed it to the lieutenant colonel: "This is the report written by the doctor in charge of autopsies in our guard unit."

The lieutenant colonel took the report, but without opening it, handed it to Winters along with the previous file without turning his head.

Lop remained unfazed and calmly continued, "Of the three intact bodies, one had a fatal wound in the chest that pierced through the heart and lungs. The other two had fatal wounds in the sides and back, indicating they were killed by multiple attackers."

The lieutenant colonel listened very attentively, nodding as he listened.

"As for the one who was blown to pieces," Officer Lop said with a wry smile, "it's really hard to tell where the fatal wound was; he might have been killed by the explosion."

"Only these four people died?" Field frowned slightly and asked in return.

"Several sailors and dockworkers also died," Officer Lop replied calmly. "Some were killed by the explosion, others by shockwaves in the water. Their families and coworkers identified them and took their bodies away. Their names are recorded in the file I gave you. Heh, I think that the missing half of the body, if it wasn't simply never recovered, was either taken by mistake."

"Is there any other valuable information?" the lieutenant colonel continued to ask.

Officer Lop sighed and spread his hands: "This is all I found, and it's all recorded in detail in the dossier."

The lieutenant colonel nodded expressionlessly, but uttered a single sentence through slightly parted lips: "Thank you."

“What’s there to thank me for? I haven’t found anything out.” Officer Lop sighed again, saying helplessly, “This case is a complete mess, utterly incomprehensible, and it’s bound to become a cold case. I don’t know why the Army took on this murder case… well, I guess you have your own reasons. But in any case, you’ve done me a huge favor by taking on this case, and I owe you one. If there’s anything I can help you with, please come to the Customs Guard Department.”

Lieutenant Colonel Field adjusted his hat brim and gave a salute. The two customs officers responded politely, and they parted ways.

However, after the two customs officers had walked a few dozen meters, Lieutenant Colonel Cornall turned back. He ran all the way to Field and Winters, panting, and asked Lieutenant Colonel Field, "Sir, the affairs officer asked me to ask you, now that you have taken over the case, how would you like the evidence and the body handled? We can help you send them over, or we can bury them for you."

"Please send the evidence directly to the Army Headquarters Military Police." Lieutenant Colonel Field readily accepted the evidence, but the disposal of the body troubled him somewhat. He pondered, "The body... um... let me think..."

The lieutenant colonel suddenly had a good idea. He said happily, "I've taken the body too, but Army Headquarters doesn't have a morgue. Send it to the morgue at the Hailan City Garrison Command."

To make sure the customs officer remembered, Field repeated himself, emphasizing "the morgue of the Ocean City Garrison Command".

Lieutenant Cornaro nodded, gave a hurried salute, muttered "the morgue of the Blue City Garrison Command" repeatedly, and ran to catch up with his Officer Lop.

Lieutenant Colonel Field was in high spirits and led Winters toward the prison gate. As they passed the morgue again, the colonel suddenly had a good idea.

"You know how to control the wind, right?" Field asked Winters with a smile, turning to him.

Winters nodded. This was the spell that had made him lose consciousness; how could he not know it?

"Listen to my command, use your wind manipulation technique to send air into this house, understand?"

Winters nodded vigorously this time; he understood what the lieutenant colonel was going to do.

Field snapped his fingers, and Winters used the same casting gesture to simultaneously activate a wind manipulation spell. The magic accelerated the air in front of them, creating a strong gust of wind that blew into the morgue.

During this process, Winters vaguely felt that his ability to use wind manipulation seemed to have improved slightly.

The stench that had been lingering in the morgue was pushed out by this strong wind and quickly permeated the entire prison, with sounds of retching echoing throughout the customs prison.

Laughing wildly, Lieutenant Colonel Field and Winters strode to the prison gate, mounted their horses, and rode away.

The horse galloped away, and soon the customs prison was left behind and could no longer be seen.

Lieutenant Colonel Field suddenly pulled on the reins, and his black horse neighed and stopped.

Winters couldn't stop and rushed past Lieutenant Colonel Field. Seeing the colonel dismount, Winters quickly turned his horse around and went back to find the colonel.

The lieutenant colonel walked silently to the cypress tree by the roadside. Winters, not understanding why, followed him.

The lieutenant colonel closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and finally, unable to hold it in any longer, vomited out with a "whoosh".

Winters was trying to forget the nausea from the customs prison morgue when he saw the lieutenant colonel vomiting. He recalled the nightmarish stench and felt a tremendous force squeezing his stomach. His esophagus expanded uncontrollably, and he vomited as well.

After vomiting once, the urge to vomit wasn't as strong anymore. But when he turned around and saw Winters vomiting too, his stomach, which had calmed down, started churning again, and he vomited again with a "whoosh".

Winters, too, had just recovered when he saw Lieutenant Colonel Field vomit again, and he couldn't help but vomit as well.

Lieutenant Colonel Field: "Stop throwing up, if you do, I won't be able to hold on either, ugh..."

Winters: "Didn't you throw up first? Ugh..."

The two of them vomited until they had emptied their stomachs of the last bit of food, until only bitter bile remained, before they finally stopped.

The lieutenant colonel spat angrily: "That bastard, if he ever comes to the palace, I'll give him a good beating."

The two men turned around and saw two horses licking up their vomit.

Winters and Field looked into each other's eyes and saw despair in each other's eyes.

"vomit……"

----split line----

Military salutes have existed since ancient times. The etiquette of adjusting one's hat dates back to at least the 11th century, and the raised-hand salute appeared at least in the 16th century.

I posted some pictures and information about the Dussac knife that Lieutenant Colonel Field lent to Winters in the book club circle. Interested readers can take a look (but don't bother looking at it, the pictures are already cracked; all three-dimensional cold weapons will crack).

And horses really do eat human vomit. At least I've seen one that does.
Also, thank you for your votes. Since this type of content is not allowed in the main text, the list of thanks will be placed in the author's notes from now on. Thank you all for reading.

Thank you to reader 20181013204343295 for the recommendation vote.


(End of this chapter)