Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 389 Storm (Part 3)

As soon as Charles uttered his words, Winters instantly entered a spellcasting state.

But Kaman was faster than Winters; he leaped to the side of the Charles's horse in a flash and dragged the white-haired man off his back.

The white-haired man fell heavily to the ground with a scream. Kaman grabbed the white-haired man by the throat and pinned him to the ground.

Winters had assumed Kaman would kill him without hesitation. However, a few seconds later, Kaman released his grip, stood up, and walked back to where he had been standing. The white-haired man struggled desperately, twitching on the ground; he was clearly still alive.

As he passed Winters, Kaman said coldly, "He's not."

Winters nodded: "Untie him."

The ropes binding the white-haired man's hands and feet were cut one by one, and the black cloth covering his eyes was also removed.

The flickering flames pierced his pupils, and the white-haired man, who had been trapped in darkness for too long, instinctively closed his eyes. Soldiers in bright armor, tall and strong warhorses, and doors and windows emitting light flashed by.

Someone grabbed the white-haired man by the shoulders and lifted him up, but the white-haired man couldn't stand up and collapsed limply.

Not far away, a hoarse voice spoke: "...Four carriages were parked by the roadside. I heard someone banging on something...There were no markings or insignia on the carriages, only long and short muskets, and this guy...He's the one who rammed his head against the carriage door and led me over..."

"Take a few more men over there and bring all the carriages back."

"Yes."

Having adjusted to the light, the white-haired man covered his forehead and cautiously peered around through his fingers. When he looked up, he was met with a pair of dark eyes reflecting the firelight.

The white-haired man peered around, and Winters was also observing the white-haired man.

Even a grown man would show some panic if he were kidnapped. But this tall, thin, white-haired boy seemed to adapt to the situation quickly. He pretended to be weak and listless, but his eyes were actually darting around, looking around restlessly.

Winters likes clever people, but he hates cunning ones, and cleverness and cunning are often only a pound of conscience apart.

The white-haired man was still pondering what lie he was telling when he suddenly heard a soft laugh.

"Ah." Winters gently patted the long wind, patiently soothing the somewhat impatient warhorse. He looked at the white-haired man and said, "I've seen this man before."

Charles was taken aback: "You've seen me before?"

“He’s a waiter at the hotel. He showed up once when we first arrived at Steel Castle.” Winters narrowed his eyes. “Bring the hotel manager here.”

……

The hotel manager was dragged into the courtyard without a word. He was about to curse when he caught a glimpse of his nephew slumped in front of the horse. He turned around and saw human corpses scattered all over the open space.

Even the usually shrewd and resourceful supervisor couldn't utter a complete sentence. His face turned pale and then red, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

After standing there for a while, the foreman took three steps forward, grabbed his nephew by the collar, and slapped him twice across the face.

The white-haired boy—named Roger—pressed his bloodied lips, remaining silent, his cheeks swollen high.

After slapping him twice, the foreman stood for a while, then, still not satisfied, swung his arm and slapped his nephew again. But when he was about to slap him a fourth time, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Finally, the foreman released his nephew, tidied his disheveled hair and clothes, walked up to Wintersma, and bowed respectfully: "Are you going out, Your Excellency?"

“You don’t even ask me why I captured you.” Winters, no longer pretending to be an imperial nobleman, laughed and asked the foreman in Common, “How interesting that you’re asking me if I want to go out.”

"It's not a skill to speak freely without reservation." The foreman said without changing his expression, "It's a skill to be able to help you, sir."

Winters bypassed the foreman and asked the white-haired man directly, "Green eyes, blond hair, do you remember me?"

Two pairs of eyes turned to the white-haired man, one from Winters and the other from the hotel manager.

White-haired Roger nodded reluctantly.

"What's that person's name?"

"do not know."

“Go and look at them one by one, and then tell me if any of the bodies are people you know.”

Charles and another guard restrained the white-haired Roger and made him identify each of the corpses one by one.

White-haired Roger was just a low-level informant in Steel Fortress. He had never seen such a scene of corpses strewn everywhere. When he was carried back, his face was pale with fright and his knees were trembling uncontrollably.

"Do you know anyone?"

“No.” White-haired Roger swallowed hard, feeling his hands and feet go cold and a chill spreading through his chest. “I don’t know them. I’ve never seen that green-eyed guy before. I only know one dark-faced man. I sold him the information, and he’s the one who kidnapped me.”

"Caught in?" Winters raised an eyebrow.

Roger, as if grasping at a straw, nodded vigorously: "Madame Balboa sent me to deliver a message to Master Lucner. When I came out of Master Lucner's house, I bumped into Blackface and Green Eyes together. Blackface knocked me unconscious without saying a word, and when I saw things again, I was already here! Sir, I really don't know anything!"

Winters discovered that this white-haired fellow was quite quick-witted; although he was terrified of the corpse, he spoke even more fluently and logically.

"Where did you meet that green-eyed guy?" Winters asked, flexing his wrists.

"North City, Mana Street."

Winters lightly nudged his horse's flank, urging it to gallop out of the courtyard, and pointed at the white-haired Roger: "Take him with you too."

"Sir! Please..." The innkeeper was shocked and hurriedly stood in front of Winters' horse, reaching out to grab the reins of Changfeng.

Changfeng was hot-tempered and would kick even strangers who got too close; how could he possibly let a middle-aged man grab his head? Seeing someone dare to reach out to him, Changfeng immediately bit down hard.

Fortunately, Winters reacted quickly, tightened the reins, and managed to hold Changfeng back.

The hotel manager dodged awkwardly, narrowly avoiding two rows of front teeth. But as soon as he regained his senses, he lunged at Wintersma again.

The hotel manager asked anxiously and hesitantly, "Are you going to the north of the city, sir?"

Winters tilted his head and looked at the hotel manager, remaining silent and waiting for the latter to continue.

"You can't get through the old town!" The hotel manager steadied himself and blurted out everything he knew: "Sheriff Dutton has blocked the roads! All the 'free men' in the south are heading to Republic Street! Sheriff Dutton is trying to keep the rioters out of the south town, to prevent them from looting and setting fires. You can't get through!"

Winters was not swayed, but still reined in Changfeng: "I want to go out, not in."

“Even if you can get through Republic Street, can you get through the Old Town? Who knows what the Old Town looks like now? Even if you can get through the Old Town safely, how much time will it take to go around Rose Lake?” The hotel manager gritted his teeth: “I have a way to get you to the North Town faster, but… it will involve some risks.”

……

Fuller had a brief but beautiful dream:

In his dream, the embargo was overturned, and his arms business made a fortune. But he didn't stop there; instead, he continued to expand and acquire smaller workshops.

Three years passed in the blink of an eye, and he transformed into the largest workshop owner in Steel Castle. Both Paul Wuppert and John Servit had to defer to him and be subservient to him.

And there's more! And there's Baron Granah! He controls the entire arms trade in Steel Castle; whatever price he sets, Baron Granah has to buy at that price!
Haha, so what if you're a baron? I can be one too!

Wait, Baron...

Fuller suddenly came to his senses and looked around in shock.

There were no luxurious mansions or fragrant beds, no fine clothes or sumptuous food. He sat in a carriage, the carriage rumbling along the stone pavement—like the sound of counting gold and silver coins.

There was indeed a beautiful woman, and she was so beautiful that she was beyond compare, but Fuller dared not harbor any disrespectful thoughts.

"You're awake, Mr. Fuller?" the beautiful woman asked softly. "Do you feel unwell anywhere?"

Fuller jumped to his feet, only to bump his head hard on the roof of the car. Ignoring the pain, he twisted his body and bowed comically, saying, "Madam."

“You should have already figured it out.” Anna smiled and extended her hand. “I’m not some baroness, you can just call me… Anna.”

Fuller kept wiping his sweat, saying, "No, no."

Anna asked with concern, "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

Fuller then realized that he had been begging the Baron to take him along just a moment ago, and now he was in a carriage after waking up from a dream.
"My head hurts a little." Fuller rubbed the back of his head, savoring the wonderful dream, and said somewhat embarrassedly, "But other than that, hehe, I feel much more relaxed all over..."

Anna smiled and nodded: "That's good."

"Madam, where are we going?"

“The inn is no longer safe. Mr. Corvian will take us to a safer, more secluded place.” “Oh…oh dear!” Fuller exclaimed in surprise, “Baron!”

“You don’t need to worry.” Anna knew exactly what Fuller was thinking, and she reassured him: “Mr. Granah asked me to tell you that he will ask Mr. Schmid to bring your family to the Schmid residence and have Mr. Schmid take care of them.”

Fuller listened silently, his eyes inexplicably reddening. He smiled bitterly and said, "I thought the Baron would just abandon me... anyway, I'm of no use anymore..."

“Actually,” Anna sighed almost imperceptibly, and said sadly, “Mr. Granah is a very gentle man.”

Fuller thought for a moment, but he couldn't reconcile the ruthless baron with the word "gentle" no matter what. But he still smiled and said, "Yes, yes... Where is Your Excellency the Baron now?"

“He,” Anna turned her head slightly, looking out the car window so that Fuller wouldn’t see the emotions in her eyes, “He went to do what he felt he had to do.”

……

Like gunpowder blasting smoke, two enormous wolfhounds, exhaling hot, humid white mist, ran across the frozen lake with all their might.

The wolfhound's front half was strapped to a harness, from which ropes extended to a sled that had been dismantled down to its skeleton.

Wearing only a thin layer of clothing, Winters crouched on the small sled, struggling to maintain his balance.

Behind Winters' sled, another sled was tied with a rope. This sled was not carrying anyone, but rather Winters' full set of armor and weapons.

Winters' left hand was still bound with two ropes, which stretched behind him into the night, connecting with the reins of Longwind and another black horse with a white nose.

Two horses followed about twenty meters behind Winters, running alongside the sled.

The sound of hooves behind him was like the beating of drums, but Winters was more concerned with the long echoes coming from his feet.

The echo was not like the crisp sound of ice breaking; rather, it was like the vibration of a snapped string, or like a marble rolling on glass.

Whatever it resembles, for Winters it means the approach of death.

The ice is groaning.

In places invisible to the naked eye, deep within the ice layer, ice crystals, subjected to stresses exceeding their limits, eventually develop tiny cracks.

The accumulated stress finally found a release point, and the cracks extended rapidly in two directions, even spanning the entire lake surface in the blink of an eye, making the already unstable ice layer even more precarious.

But Winters couldn't control all that; he couldn't decide whether the ice would break, where it would break, or when it would break.

He had to concentrate his attention completely, not missing any unusual noises, and be ready to abandon the vehicle or cut the rope at any time.

Besides Winters, there are four other sleds on the lake.

Other sleds carried one or two people, and were arranged similarly to Winters' sled, with the people and equipment separated, and the warhorses being lowered far behind by ropes.

The difference is that the sled dogs used by other sleds are all trained specialized dogs. But the hotel manager only found six sled dogs, and Winters' two wolfhounds, which have not yet been named, had to be used as well.

To minimize risks, the five sets of sleds were spaced very far apart, almost unable to see each other.

Only the constant, sharp sound of ice skates cutting through the ice told Winters that his men were also rapidly approaching the north shore.

Between two points, a straight line is the shortest.

The hotel manager, Kovilian, suggested that the solution was to cross the frozen lake and go directly to the north of the city.

For the people of Steelburg, traveling by boat in summer and by sled in winter is a very common way of getting around.

However, it is now late winter, and when there is plenty of sunshine at noon, the frozen lake may even collapse on its own, only to refreeze when the temperature drops at night.

This process repeated until the ice layer became extremely unstable and could not support the weight of the snowmobile.

So what Covilhã gave Winters was an "ice sled," which consisted of a square board on top and two ice blades inlaid in wood underneath.

The entire sled was barely bigger than a washbasin; it was more of a toy than a vehicle.

But it was this toy-like gadget that safely delivered Winters, Kaman, Charles, old Schmid, two guards, and all five men in full armor and weapons to the North Shore.

Also arriving on the north shore were the hotel manager, Corvilian, and Roger the White-haired—to prove the feasibility of crossing by sled, the over-fifty-year-old Corvilian was the first to ride a sled into the frozen lake.

After a short yet long journey, Kovilian dragged his sled ashore, utterly exhausted.
To reduce their weight, the people riding the ice sleds wore very little clothing, enduring the cold with sheer willpower. The constant, terrifying cracking sound of the ice terrified the half-dead old man, who collapsed onto the lake shore, unable to stand up for a long time.

White-haired Roger was also shivering from the cold. He frantically found some clothes and wrapped them around Kovilian.

Despite a thousand grievances and accusations in his heart, Kovilian was speechless at this moment. The uncle and nephew looked at each other in silence, staring blankly at the lake.

Winters searched along the lake shore and soon found Corvilian and Roger.

Seeing that the "Baron" was unharmed, Kovilian felt a huge weight lifted from his throat. He forced himself to stand up and greeted him, "Your Excellency..."

Winters grabbed the hotel manager and said, "You've helped me a lot, but I need to borrow your nephew for a while."

Kovilian hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

"Don't worry." Winters looked at the white-haired youth. "I will return him safely."

……

[Steel Fort North District]
[Este Palace]
The Palace of Esther has now become a battlefield.

The garden, meticulously tended by six full-time gardeners, is now ablaze, the flames spreading in all directions with the help of the wind.

In the southwest corner of the garden, a towering spruce tree has been swallowed by a red snake, resembling a giant torch piercing the darkness from all directions.

The outer gate of the Este Manor was easily breached, and the towering walls proved to be useless.

The White Eagles' guards wanted to use the manor's complex terrain to ambush the attackers, but when their blades clashed, they were surprised to find that the attackers were just as familiar with the manor as they were.

Gunfire erupted from all directions, and flames were everywhere. There was nowhere to escape, nowhere to hide.

"Where do you get the guts!" Outside the main gate, a one-eyed guard fought three opponents single-handedly, shouting as he battled fiercely: "How dare you lay a hand on the Ester family!"

The one-eyed guard wielded a Saracen-style scimitar with incredible speed and skill, leaving the three assassins unable to subdue him for a time. Instead, they were forced to retreat step by step by the one-eyed guard's fierce attacks.

However, no matter how brave the one-eyed guard was, he could not stop the other assassins from smashing the high windows and leaping into the main hall.

A masked man who had been bringing up the rear the whole time walked towards the main entrance: "Make way."

Upon hearing this, the three assassins who were fighting the one-eyed guard quickly retreated and distanced themselves from him.

The masked man held the one-eyed guard in a distant grip, then suddenly clenched his fist: "[Ancient saying] Shatter to pieces!"

The one-eyed guard's body suddenly trembled, and his only remaining eye was instantly stained red with blood. Then, his bones made a series of teeth-grinding deforming sounds. His hand bones, arm bones, shin bones, cervical vertebrae, and spine twisted and turned unnaturally as if collapsing. His originally robust and strong body turned into a deformed monster in the blink of an eye.

The most terrifying thing was that the one-eyed guard did not die immediately; his lips trembled, and chilling wails came out of his throat intermittently.

An assassin stepped forward and killed the one-eyed guard with a single sword stroke—if that thing could still be called a one-eyed guard.

The masked man waved his hand, and the assassins, who had been blocked outside by the one-eyed guard, filed into the main gate.

The masked man walked to the twisted body of the one-eyed guard and looked down at it. Was he smug? Or was he silently mourning?
His face is hidden behind a mask, and no one knows his thoughts. When he puts on the mask, he loses his self and individuality, becoming the embodiment and agent of another power.

The sound of horses' hooves, like war drums, grew louder and clearer as they approached. According to the pre-arranged plan, the men on the perimeter were to intercept and kill the approaching forces.

However, the hoofbeats seemed to encounter no hindrance, flying across the long street without any hesitation, and approaching the Este Manor at lightning speed.

Within a few breaths, the sound of hooves could be heard behind the masked man.

The masked man turned around in horror. A white horse, like a silver dragon, leaped high into the air and flew over the blazing wall of burning bushes, like thunder and a torrent, heading straight for him.

The masked man stretched out his hand and chanted loudly.

However, what returned from the void was not power, but a terrible curse and phantom pain beyond his endurance.

Fortunately, the phantom pain only lasted for a very short time. With a flash of cold light, the masked man's head was severed from his body.

In his final moments, as he soared into the sky, the masked man finally saw everything clearly:
There were two people sitting on the horse.

(End of this chapter)