Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 415 Holy Land
[wilderness]
A naked man, carrying a curved knife, was clinging to the back of an unsaddled red and white horse, fleeing for his life into the depths of the mountains.

The man whipped his warhorse with his scimitar while constantly glancing back in terror, as if being chased by some terrifying beast.

This man was none other than Chi Lian—a nobleman of the Golden Clan, an archer of the Terdun tribe, and a close follower of the Fire-Warmers.

Because he was responsible for guarding the holy land for many years, Chi Lian usually did not participate in the raids, so he did not experience the Blood Mud Battle and fortunately escaped the calamity.

But precisely because he had not personally experienced the brutal battle that turned the frozen soil into a swamp, he did not understand the need to be afraid of the Blood Wolves.

Without a saddle, he had nowhere to brace himself, and every jolt from the horse's back caused Chi Lian excruciating pain, but he dared not stop. He gripped the horse's ribs tightly with his legs and whipped his mount even harder.

"[Herd] Hurry! Hurry!" Chi Lian cried out in her heart, "[Herd] Mount Heldun! Save me! Shelter my ant-like life, and my descendants will offer sacrifices to you every morning! I will gather my scattered children, livestock, and tents, and I will rise again like the sun! Hurry! Hurry!"

However, the pursuers still arrived.

First, a series of intermittent, barely audible muffled thuds came from behind Chi Lian, then the hoofbeats became clearer and closer, and even the hoofbeats of the red and white hooves that Chi Lian was riding could not cover them up.

Chi Lian's actions were already quite covert; he walked along streams and crossed valleys, without any guards, acting alone.

But the pursuer had a better sense of smell; he followed the hoofprints, hair, and broken grass and branches all the way.

Chi Lian glanced back and saw that there was only one pursuer on the horizon, so he ignored him and continued galloping. His Red and White Flower horse was a top-notch steed, and shaking off his pursuers was a piece of cake.

However, things didn't go as planned. Although the pursuer's horse wasn't as good as Chi Lian's, he was a calm and collected rider. He carefully chose the route that would conserve the horse's strength, instead of recklessly spurring his horse on like Chi Lian did.

Therefore, although the pursuers disappeared behind Chi Lian several times, they reappeared on the horizon time and time again.

Finally, Red and White Flower's strength gradually ran out, and the rhythm of its four hooves slowed down involuntarily.

The pursuers who had been following Chi Lian at a leisurely pace suddenly spurred their horses on, closing the distance to her in a flash.

The pursuing rider stood up from his horse using the stirrups, drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Chi Lian was too slow to react and fell into the arrow's range.

Hearing a "clang" behind her, Chi Lian cried out in terror, but instead of feeling the sharp pain of an arrow piercing her back, the red and white flower between her legs let out a mournful cry and suddenly increased its speed.

The pursuing rider did not aim at the red-striped horse, but instead shot an arrow that struck the rump of the red-and-white-striped horse.

Chi Lian turned her head to look at the spot where Hong Baihua had been shot with an arrow, and felt utterly desperate—because the pursuers had clearly used a specially made bleeding arrow, not an ordinary arrow.

These arrows were specifically designed for hunting large predators; once they pierced the flesh, they were impossible to remove. Forcibly pulling out the arrowhead would not allow the wound to close on its own. However, if the arrowhead remained, its sharp edge would continuously create new wounds inside the prey. Therefore, once a hunter struck the prey's torso with one of these arrows, they only needed to patiently wait for the animal to bleed to death.

Chi Lian gritted her teeth, pulled hard on the reins, and turned her warhorse to face the enemy.

The pursuers also stopped and mounted their horses, following Chi Lian.

With the help of the rising sun, Chi Lian finally saw the pursuer's appearance clearly: about sixteen or seventeen years old, with fine downy hair just growing on his lips—a boy somewhere between an adult and a child.

Most incredibly, the pursuers were wearing robes in the style of various tribes, had their hair styled in the braids of the tribes' sons, used saddles in the style of the wilderness, carried a horn bow in their hands, and incongruously carried a musket on their backs.

The wolfhounds that relentlessly pursued him were actually members of various tribes?!

"[Hede] You beast!" Chi Lian roared in fury, "[Hede] Why did you help a two-legged man?!"

The pursuer ignored Chi Lian and, after confirming that she had neither a bow nor arrows, gently tugged at the reins, putting distance between them once again.

"[Herd] Come on!" Chi Lian brandished her curved blade and roared as she charged toward the pursuer: "[Herd] Fight me to the death!"

The pursuer lightly tapped the horse's ribs and turned to leave. He skillfully controlled his gray horse, maintaining an arrow's distance from the red and white horses. When the red-legged horse stopped, he stopped as well, continuing to keep a close but not too close watch on it.

Red Serpent was burning with rage and had nowhere to vent it. He frantically pounded his chest: "[Utterly vicious filthiness from Hart]! Come on! Come on! You want to take my life for a reward? Come on, take it! Come on, take it!"

However, the pursuers were like an emotionless stone, unmoved by the crashing waves. No matter what Chi Lian did, the young man carrying the musket did not react, but silently observed her.

Another series of hoofbeats came from behind, and another rider appeared on the watershed of the hillside. Upon seeing Chi Lian and the young man below, the rider immediately galloped towards them.

"[Hede] Brother!" The new rider could be heard shouting excitedly from afar, "[Hede] You captured the Red-Striped Leader?!"

Chi Lian stared at the two brothers before her with a heart full of despair. The new rider bore a striking resemblance to the young man, but was clearly younger. A horn bow and quiver hung from the side of his saddle, and a musket was incongruously slung across his back.

The new rider galloped excitedly to the two men facing off. Seeing that Chi Lian only had a scimitar but no bow or arrows, he was overjoyed. Turning around, he noticed his brother was hesitant to make a move, and a sense of unease crept in.

But he quickly decided—he didn't want to think about it that much.

The new rider untied his ropes, drew his bow and arrow, and volunteered: "[Herd] If my brother doesn't want to do it, then I will!"

But his brother's hand pressed down on his horn bow.

The boy looked at his older brother with a puzzled expression, while the young man simply shook his head.

"Wait," the young man told his younger brother with his eyes.

With no hope of dying, Chi Lian roared to the sky in grief and indignation, then wiped away her tears haphazardly, mounted her horse, and resolutely headed into the depths of the mountains.

The two brothers who caught up with him neither hindered nor helped him, but simply followed behind him at a distance.

After an unknown amount of time, the tranquility of the wasteland was once again shattered by the rumbling of hooves.

A group of black-clad cavalrymen appeared in the three's field of vision. This time, the pursuers were not tribal youths, but genuine Palatine cavalry.

The young man fired a signal arrow into the sky.

The Palatine cavalry, who had followed the marks left by the young man to this place, heard the sound and spurred their horses toward the location of the three.

The leader was none other than Saber Seber.

Knowing her death was imminent, Chi Lian turned her horse around and faced the enemy head-on.

Seeing the desperate barbarian chieftain and his guide brother who was monitoring him, Cypher laughed loudly: "Leave him to me? Excellent! Excellent!!!"

Immediately afterwards, Seber saw the barbarian chief pointing a knife at him and babbling a long string of Hed words.

"Hmm?" Seber raised an eyebrow and asked the guide brother, "What did he say?"

Upon hearing Chi Lian's curses, the elder brother explained in his broken, two-legged language: "Chi Lian... wishes to engage you in... a battle of warriors against warriors... an arrow against an arrow..."

Cyber ​​became interested: "A duel?"

"Major, please don't act rashly." Anglu quickly dissuaded him, realizing the situation was dire: "The barbarian chieftain knows he can't escape today and is trying to fight to the death. Please don't give him the chance."

“When did you become the one to tell me what to do?” Seber glared at Anglu.

“The tribunal of Montagne has ordered me to protect your safety.” Anglou replied neither humbly nor arrogantly, “I am no longer a soldier in the Palatine army, so your rank of major means nothing to me, but the centurion’s orders are my mission.”

Cypher snorted and waved his hand dismissively: "I know what I'm doing."

He lightly flicked his whip and slowly rode up to Chi Lian. Anglu helplessly gestured for his men to prepare.

However, instead of drawing his weapon, Cypher, who was confronting Chilian, reached into his robes and rummaged around for a while before pulling out a dirty, old pipe.

He clumsily stuffed the bowl with shredded tobacco leaves, then spent considerable effort igniting the tinder cloth with a flint and steel before finally setting the tobacco alight.

Chi Lian stared wide-eyed, bewildered by the two-legged leader's inexplicable actions, until he saw the other man put the little thing in his mouth and take a delicious suck, as if he were enjoying his despair, his anger, and his dead end.

"Senior László, Senior Robert," Seber thought to himself, "Did you see that?"

Immediately afterwards, he was choked by the acrid smoke and began to cough violently—he didn't actually smoke.

Enraged, Chi Lian roared and brandished her curved blade as she charged toward the two-legged man who dared to humiliate her.

However, while still coughing, Seber swiftly drew the short gun from the side of the saddle, pointed it at the barbarian chieftain's chest, and steadily pulled the trigger.

With a crisp "click," sparks flew and smoke billowed out.

A bloody hole appeared in Chi Lian's chest, while an even more horrific rip was torn open in his back. His arms swung behind him, and he fell headfirst off the horse.

“Idiot,” Cyber ​​said coldly.

Chi Lian is dead.

But it won't be long before Cypher regrets letting Chilian die so easily.

……

[The valley where the Red Serpent Tribe's camp is located]
The sun had fully risen.

The battle was over, and the brief but bloody massacre came to an end.

The corpses scattered across the hillside were dragged to the bottom of the valley and counted one by one. The prisoners—men, women, and children—were imprisoned and guarded by designated personnel.

Wounded cavalrymen sat resting on the hillside, waiting for medics to treat their wounds. The bodies of fallen cavalrymen had already been loaded onto wagons, their lifeless faces covered by black cloaks.

The remaining cavalrymen, aside from a small number who went to pursue the fleeing enemy, were mostly rummaging through the ruins of the camp, searching for food, water, and spoils of war.

This was an undeniable victory, a devastating triumph, and the winner has the right to take everything.

Unlike the impoverished Hed tribe that Winters had seen, the Chilian tribe was unusually wealthy. At least the furs, jewelry, gold and silver utensils, and coins found in the camp were piled up like small mountains.

"Centurion!" Lannis, the former company commander of the fifth infantry regiment and now the temporary cavalry company commander, held up a scimitar with a pearl-sleeved scabbard, his face beaming with barely concealed joy: "This must be the barbarian chieftain's sword! I present it to you!"

Winters took the scimitar and asked, "Have the scouts been sent out?"

“They’ve been dispatched.” Lannis immediately put away his smile and answered seriously, “We’ve sent out scouts in all twenty-four directions. No cavalry unit that appears within twenty kilometers will escape our notice.”

"Have everyone prioritize collecting food, water, and horses—these things can't be eaten or drunk, and we need to evacuate as soon as possible." Winters threw his scimitar into the hill of spoils and tapped Lannis on the head with his riding crop. "Don't worry about the spoils; they will be distributed fairly to everyone."

Lannis raised his hand in salute and walked away happily.

"Your Excellency," the standard-bearer Heinrich asked softly from behind Winters, "you seem...not quite pleased?"

“No.” Winters stroked his chin. “I’m pleased. We paid a small price for a great victory.”

“But you…you didn’t smile.” Heinrich pointed to his comrades in the valley: “At least not as happy as everyone else.” Heinrich was right; almost every surviving light cavalryman in the valley had a victorious smile on their face, except for Winters, whose expression remained serious.

“According to Taichi, the Chilian tribe should have a considerable number of slaves,” Winters said thoughtfully. “But… do you see any of these slaves that should be there?”

Heinrich paused, then said, "Only female slaves."

“That’s right, only female slaves.” Winters unconsciously narrowed his eyes. “Bring me the guide.”

Just as Winters, who was supervising the cleanup of the battlefield, was still puzzled by the fact that "there were almost no male slaves to be found in the Red Serpent tribe's camp," the scouts who were chasing the remaining enemy troops brought back unexpected enemy information.

The permanent camp located in the open valley was originally only part of the old camp of the Chilian tribe, mainly for the tribe's guards, servants, slaves in tents, and female relatives to live in.

Deep in the valley, in a place of treacherous terrain, there exists another permanent garrison.

“You’re telling me…” Winters, after hearing the report, narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at the guide sent by Taichi: “There is only one fortified camp.”

Cold sweat instantly beaded on the guide's forehead. He abruptly knelt down, stammering, "Chilian Chieftain is the most trusted companion of the Fire-Roasting People. They favor him above all else and have entrusted him with guarding the sacred land. Therefore, no one except Chilian's followers can enter his pasture! Even the location of this camp was painstakingly discovered by King Taichi! Batu, King Taichi... no, no, I, I really didn't know there was a fortified camp! Batu! I really didn't lie! Batu..."

Winters judged that the guide was telling the truth, but he remained noncommittal. After a moment of contemplation, he gave the order: "Assemble the entire army! Leave the first and second companies to clean up the battlefield, the rest of the companies will advance with me—it seems the battle is not over yet."

……

The deeper you go into the valley, the narrower the mountains become, and the higher the terrain becomes.

The second permanent camp of the Chilian tribe was located on high ground, backed by mountains and forests, with natural watersheds protecting its two flanks. Only one side was open ground—and it was uphill, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack.

Some of the Red Serpent tribesmen who managed to escape had already brought news of the enemy's attack to the Highland Camp, so when Winters arrived, many fully armed archers were already standing on the walls of the Highland Camp.

Winters roughly counted the garrison on the stockade wall. The number of soldiers was not large, but for his light cavalry, a permanent camp that was already on high alert would be a very tough nut to crack.

Major Cypher was chasing the barbarian chieftain and his whereabouts were unknown. Anglu had gone with him, so Winters currently had no one to discuss strategies with.

He then ordered the temporary squadron leaders of the four cavalry companies and all the senior soldiers to be summoned.

“Judging from the situation at the valley camp, the Chilian tribe is very wealthy. It’s impossible that they only have so few slaves, and it’s impossible that they only have female slaves.” Winters drew a simple topographical map on the ground: “Then the male slaves are probably all imprisoned in the highland camp, and the expeditionary prisoners that the Chilian tribe obtained two years ago may also be there.”

Upon hearing the term "expeditionary force prisoners of war," the eyes of several veteran soldiers instantly turned red.

"Tell me," Winters said, looking at his subordinates. "What are your thoughts?"

This was a meeting, but also a test.

“Warhorses can’t cross walls that high.” Someone tentatively asked, “How about… we try using earthen embankments?”

"Where are we going to find so many bags to fill with dirt all at once?" Lannis retorted, turning to the tribunal. "Centurion, we still need infantry to attack the city. There's timber at the valley camp; we can make ladders. You select some skilled men, and I'll lead them to scale the walls directly with the ladders. If possible, send some more men to circle around from the back of the mountain. With a pincer attack, I don't believe the barbarians can hold out."

Winters scrutinized the subordinate he had personally trained: "You should know the risks of climbing the wall."

“Of course I know,” Lannis replied nonchalantly, wiping his nose and chuckling. “Didn’t we capture quite a few barbarian armors? You could have given me a set in advance. I’m the only one from the infantry regiment here, so I can’t let the infantry regiment down. You gave me my life, so it’s no loss if I die.”

Winters silently recalled the old marshal's admonition: "If someone is willing to die for you, then you must not easily put them in danger."

“Nonsense,” Winters snapped, his face hard. “If your life is mine, then wasting it is even more shameful.”

Winters pondered for a moment, then made his decision. He slammed his cane on the ground: “Gather timber and oil, prepare for a fire attack.”

"No!" A veteran soldier from the expeditionary force immediately became anxious upon hearing this. He was not one of Winters's direct subordinates; his willingness to participate in this surprise attack was entirely due to Major Cyber.

The old sergeant's face flushed red, and he shouted, his neck stiff, "There might still be our men there! Are you going to burn them all alive?!"

Lannis and the other Winters's loyal subordinates instantly changed their expressions, and their fists clenched tightly.

“They’re our men too.” Winters was a little annoyed at being contradicted in public by the old sergeant, but he still tried to explain calmly: “The key isn’t setting a fire, but making the people on the mountain believe that we’re going to set a fire—understand?”

The old sergeant instinctively wanted to argue a bit more, but seeing the almost fiery eyes of Lannis and the others, he angrily shut his mouth.

“If there are no problems,” Winters sighed inwardly, then made the final decision: “Let’s proceed.”

……

As the light cavalry of Tiefeng County felled trees and dismantled felt tents, and piled cartloads of flammable materials down the hillside, the gate of the highland camp opened a crack.

Three riders galloped out of the gate, the lead rider carrying a helmet and a set of armor on a flagpole—he was an envoy who had come to negotiate.

Winters then went to meet them with an interpreter and guide.

"[Herd] This is a descendant of the Golden Man, a nobleman of the Teldun tribe, a descendant of Tuhei Balatur, the son of Kete, a companion of the Crimson Serpent, and a guardian of the Holy Land—White Star." A red-feathered figure loudly introduced his negotiator, then arrogantly demanded, "[Herd] Black-clad youth, state your identity!"

“Batu, don’t worry, the guest invitation… I’ve never even heard of it.” The guide whispered to Winters, “It’s just a nobody who’s coming.”

Having said that, the guide sent by Taichi rode forward and declared in a strong voice: "[Hede] Before you is the chosen one of the highest heavens, the champion of Plato, the master of Iron Peak County, the warrior that even the Styx dares not take away, the butcher of Qingqiu—the blood of the Azure Wolf."

The nobleman from the Chilian tribe who came to negotiate looked noticeably gloomy. He cleared his throat and spoke a long passage in Hed's language.

“Batu, White Star greets you and congratulates you on your victory.” The guide translated in a low voice: “If you allow him and his men to leave with their weapons and horses, he is willing to offer you this camp intact.”

“He has no right to negotiate with me,” Winters replied coldly. “Tell him it’s either surrender or die.”

Another series of Hellenistic dialogues ensued.

The guide wiped the sweat from his brow: "Bai Xing said that he would be willing to give up the camp to you if you promised to spare his life."

Winters narrowed his eyes, spurred his horse past the guide, and looked at the Red Serpent Tribe nobleman who had come to negotiate as if he were looking at a corpse: "[Herd] Surrender or die."

The nobleman of the Red Serpent tribe turned pale. He was eager to say something more, but Winters ignored him, sneered a few times, and whipped his horse away.

"Batu!" The bewildered guide shouted frantically behind Winters, "White Star asked Batu, are there still Paratul slaves in the camp? Doesn't Batu care about them?"

But Winters had already walked away without looking back.

Ten minutes later, the horse-tail banners of the high ground camp were taken down, and Bai Xing led all the guards out of the camp to surrender.

However, Winters, who captured the camp without losing a single soldier, felt no joy of victory, only an uncontrollable, violent rage.

Just as he had expected, there were slaves in the camp, and many, many slaves, including not only Paratul people, but also Hed people, as well as prisoners of war from the expeditionary force captured by the Chilian tribe.

The slaves owned by the Hard tribes generally did not live well, because the Hard tribes themselves were also very poor.

However, all the slaves under the control of the Red Serpent Tribe, besides suffering from hunger and arduous labor, had their tongues cut out—without exception. Some of the enslaved were also had their toes cut off or were chained to the wall with iron rings.

Many people had been tortured beyond recognition and were desperately trying to dodge the firelight like rats.

The old sergeant who had previously defied Winters now embraced an old friend he barely recognized and wept uncontrollably. Meanwhile, the expeditionary force veterans who had just regained their freedom had no tears left to shed.

Upon returning and witnessing the horrific scene, Saber Cypher roared and drew his saber, intending to tear the already slain Chilian to pieces.

Bai Xing and the other guards from the Red Serpent Tribe were all dragged to Winters and made to kneel in a row.

“Speak,” Winters said through gritted teeth, gripping Shirahoshi’s skull. “Why did you do this?”

Bai Xing trembled uncontrollably and spilled everything out like beans from a bamboo tube.

……

White Star, holding a torch, led the way, guiding Winters, Cypher, and the others into the cave behind the highland camp.

The cave has a main passageway that slopes downwards, and the walls of the passageway are covered with traces of artificial carving. Many branch passageways also slope downwards from both sides of the main passageway.

Some side alleys have been sealed off, but a faint stench of corpses still emanates from the cracks in the stones.

The clanging and banging of chisels could be heard from the depths of some side alleys.

They walked very, very deep before Bai Xing stopped. He obsequiously used his torch to illuminate the rock wall and, as if seeking credit, invited Blood Wolf to come forward and take a look.

By the dim firelight, Winters saw dark yellow scratches on the quartz surface of the rock wall, the scratches shimmering with a captivating luster.

In that instant, Winters understood everything.

Why could the Teldun tribe cast such an amazing golden statue? Why did no one enter the territory of the Chilian tribe? Why were the tongues of slaves cut out? Why were there piles of rubble around the cave? Why were so many wools drying inside the camp?

Holy place?

It's a copper-gold associated mine! And a rich one at that—the source of Chi Lian's confidence in recruiting soldiers, the source of the Fire-Burning People's power, and the biggest secret of the Teldun Tribe.

Although Cypher was a beat slow to react, he quickly realized what he was seeing. Without saying a word, he drew his sword and slashed at Shirahoshi.

However, his arm was held tightly by Winters, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't move. In the past, he might have been able to hold his own against Winters. But after more than a year of enslavement, Cypher's strength was far less than before.

Shirahoshi was so frightened that she collapsed to the ground, but dared not run away.

"We can't let the other barbarians know the secret of this place," Cypher growled. "Prisoners, guides—kill them all, leave no one alive!"

"You think you can hide it just by killing it?" Winters retorted.

"The mine collapsed too! Even if we can't get it, we can't let the barbarians get it! Do you know what will happen if this thing falls into the hands of the White Lion?!"

“Don’t worry.” Winters grabbed Cypher’s wrist and shoved Cypher’s saber back into its sheath. “Leave it to me.”

……

[A moment later]
[Highland Camp Gate]
“Go tell Taychi,” Winters told the guide. “I need to talk to him about the distribution of the spoils.”

"That's it?" Seber stared, his eyes wide with anger. "And then what?"

“Things must be done one at a time. Then, we will withdraw as planned.” Winters looked at the newly freed enslaved people, then towards the direction of Iron Peak County: “Wait for good news from Andrei and Captain Morrow.”

[Winners and participants on the leaderboard who have not yet registered their mailing information, please provide your mailing information as soon as possible.]
[Continuing from the author's note in the previous chapter]
[Because maintaining a standing army is extremely difficult for nomadic tribes (or for most tribal regimes), "resident guards" become very important, often possessing power and status beyond the mere role of "guard."]
[Like the "sworn warriors" of Celtic tribes, the "knights' squires" of feudal times, and the "companions," "arrow-wielders," and "guards" of nomadic tribes in the Central Asian steppes, even including the "blood oath guards" in the fantasy work <A Song of Ice and Fire>]
These resident guards not only live and eat with the chief, but the tribal chief also uses various methods to win them over in order to maintain their loyalty, including but not limited to religion, oaths, honor, and even developing a brotherly friendship with them. The chief often relies on them more in personnel appointments.
[Is it possible for nomadic tribes to establish a large-scale standing army?]
[Answer: It's possible. After Temujin was proclaimed Genghis Khan and unified the various tribes of the steppe, he selected 10,000 men from among nobles of all ranks and the sons of free men to form a "Great Central Army"—the Kheshig. The Kheshig originally meant "guard."]
[Before this, even Genghis Khan, despite his great stature, only had "eighty men as his personal guards and seventy bodyguards who took turns protecting him."]
[And, before modern times, once a tribe in the Central Asian steppes could maintain a standing army of tens of thousands, the surrounding countries would usually suffer again...]
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(End of this chapter)