Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 416 Shovel Harbor

[Outside Shovel Harbor]
"Click."

"Click."

With a crisp click of the mechanism, the hands of the Nylon clock faithfully moved forward.

However, in Andrei's world, the pointer inlaid with luminous stone was unbearably slow—especially when Andrei kept staring at it.

As luck would have it, another clueless guy came along and poked at his sore spot.

"What exactly is this tribunal for the people?" Tulin led his beloved horse, Dark Blue-Black, to Andrei's side, craning his neck to look curiously at the Nuremberg clock in Andrei's hand: "You've been staring at it all morning!"

Andrei snorted coldly, handed the Nuremberg to Turin, and asked irritably, "Do you know what this is?"

"N-no... I don't know." Tulin scratched his head awkwardly and said ingratiatingly, "But it's definitely very valuable."

“It’s okay if you don’t know.” Without another word, Andrei shoved the Nuremberg clock into Thurin’s hands. “From now on, you stand right here! Stare at it! Until the hand reaches the cross! Until the hand reaches the cross, you are not allowed to move an inch! Begin now!”

Turin was momentarily confused. When he came to his senses and tried to beg for mercy with a mournful face, he found that Tribunal Cellini had already lay down under the shade of the cypress tree where the horse was tied, and had covered his face with his hat.

Unidentified birds were chirping, and a few young Dusak boys, whose hair hadn't even fully grown on their foreheads, were trying to suppress their laughter.

Tulin stood frozen in place, unsure whether to move or sit, and could only stare at the silver box, praying that the infantry regiment would move faster.

……

[Within Chanzigang Town]
The capture of Shovel Harbor went incredibly smoothly.

The eight companies of the First and Second Battalions of the Iron Peak County Infantry Regiment sailed down the river in twelve barges and captured the dock without encountering any resistance.

The barge they were on was secretly modified from battlefield materials in Bullshoe Valley. The order to build the barge came directly from Winters Montagne, the tribunal, and was given after the Battle of Bloodshoe.

The defense of Shovel Harbor was focused on the inland direction. The commander in charge of deploying the garrison tried his best to build the land route into an impregnable fortress, but he did not expect that the rebels entrenched in Theovodan would not only dare to take the initiative to attack, but also prepare a set of combined land and water tactics specifically for Shovel Harbor.

Caught completely off guard, the town hall, church, barracks, armory, and other important locations were easily occupied by the new army of Tiefeng County. Many garrison militiamen were still fast asleep when they were unwittingly taken prisoner by the "rebels."

Peter Bunier, carrying his halberd and holding his helmet, ran back to the dock from the Shovel Harbor barracks, his ill-fitting armor rattling loudly.

He ran up to several officers who were directing the unloading of ships on the dock pier and asked frantically, "Commander! The enemy has surrendered! What do we do?"

After asking the question, he realized he hadn't saluted yet, so he quickly raised his hand and saluted.

"Surrendered?" asked the officer wearing an iron mask suspiciously. "No resistance?"

“No blood was drawn,” Peter Bunier mumbled, still half-asleep. “They surrendered as soon as we stormed through the camp gates, and some even offered to help us tie the ropes…”

"Spineless coward." The masked man scoffed and fell silent.

"Shovel Harbor has recently recruited quite a few of the bandits and thugs we drove away," said Bart Sharling, the acting battalion commander of the Second Battalion, with a light laugh. "Those guys are used to changing sides and are terrified of dying."

Another stern-faced officer—Tamas, the acting battalion commander of the 1st Battalion—nodded and offered a simple word of encouragement to his subordinate: "You did a good job, Sergeant Peter."

Upon hearing Tamas's praise, Peter Bunier stood at attention like a pleased puppy and gave a salute.

Based on his merits during the Battle of Bloodsludge, Peter Bunir has been promoted to one of the first regular sergeants in the new army and appointed to command two platoons of soldiers.

Even the most envious person cannot deny that Peter's gains are genuine; at most, they might secretly mutter, "What a lucky guy!"

No one called Peter "Shorty" with disdain anymore. New recruits would immediately salute him and respectfully call him "Sergeant Bunier"; veterans would put their arms around his shoulders and affectionately call him "Brother Peter"—in fact, Peter Bunier was only in his early twenties.

Although Peter Bunier was somewhat caught off guard by the changes in the world, he still somewhat enjoyed the feeling of being respected.

……

[Shovel Harbor Barracks]
"Kneel down, all of you! Hands behind your heads!" The monkey paced back and forth, brandishing a spear, and shouted arrogantly, "Hey bald guy! What are you doing moving around? Kneel down!"

The surrendered militiamen of Shovel Harbor knelt in a row facing the wall, none of them daring to complain or even look back at the gaunt soldiers who had reprimanded them.

This made the monkey even more proud, after all, this was his first "real" victory - the Battle of Blood Mud certainly didn't count, because he was so scared in that battle that he wet his pants and didn't gain anything.

Veteran Lu Xirong emerged from the barracks warehouse, carrying a roll of hemp rope, intending to tie up the prisoners.

Seeing this, the monkey quickly ran to Lu Xirong's side and tried to take the rope from his hand: "Soldier! I'll do it!"

“Don’t call me sergeant. The volunteer force has been disbanded.” Lucien’s face darkened. “I’m not a sergeant now, just a common soldier. Sergeant Peter Bunier is the sergeant.”

"You served as my sergeant for a day," the monkey said shamelessly, snatching the rope from Lu Xirong's hand. "You'll be my sergeant for life! Don't move! I'll do it!"

After saying that, the monkey picked up the rope and deftly tied the hands of the prisoners one by one from behind.

Lu Xirong stared at the back of the new recruit he had brought out for a long time, and finally said helplessly, "Monkey, you're a good lad... but you're too talkative and too ambitious! If you were half as steady as your fellow villager, you could be more successful than him."

Unlike the monkey, who hadn't accomplished anything, his friend Doug killed a Blue Feather warrior. After the two were recruited into the advanced regiment, Doug was immediately transferred to the battalion commander's side as a bodyguard.

Upon hearing Lu Xirong's words, the monkey paused for a moment, then quickly resumed his movements. He chuckled and said, "Everyone has their own destiny. I'm happy for Gouzi that he's successful... He's better than me."

Lu Xirong clicked his tongue, said nothing, and simply patted the monkey on the shoulder.

……

[Shovel Port Wharf]
"What are you standing there for?" Seeing the happy, silly grin on the short soldier's face, Moro felt a surge of inexplicable anger: "Don't you have anything to do?"

"Oh...oh oh oh." Peter snapped out of his daze, hurriedly straightened his helmet, and whispered, "Commander, what should we do with the surrendered enemy? Should we bring them over?"

“No need. Disarm them and lock them up in the barracks. We don’t have time to deal with them right now…” Tamas’s gaze followed the road from the docks all the way out of town: “The real enemy hasn’t arrived yet.”

Hearing this, Moro let out another disdainful snort. He looked at the soldiers unloading the ship and shouted, "Put everything else down—pull down the cannons!"

……

……

The garrison of Shovel Harbor is divided into two parts: a smaller part is stationed in the town center, and a larger part is stationed at Portal Manor outside the town.

As a veteran, Mayor Potal was not unaware of the principle that "dispersed forces can be defeated one by one."

So... he originally wanted to keep all his troops and supplies at his own estate.

It was only because of Mr. Alpha's insistence that Mayor Potal reluctantly dispatched one hundred militiamen to the town center and mobilized the townspeople to build a wooden wall around the town center as a defensive fortification. Events proved Mayor Potal's "foresight," but he was not in a mood for self-satisfaction.

The fleeing soldiers who returned to the manor brought terrible news: a "large army" had launched a surprise attack on Shovel Harbor by boat, and the more than one hundred militiamen stationed in the town were instantly routed. They fought desperately and managed to break through the encirclement, rushing to report to the town mayor as soon as possible...

Potal dismissed the deserters who claimed they were "fighting to break out and rush back to report" with a few silver coins—he could tell at a glance that they were covered in animal blood, but he didn't want to expose them.

After shooing away the others, a worried Potal looked at the handsome young man beside him: "Mr. Alpha, what do you think we should do now?"

“There’s no other way. The town has already been lost, and right now we can only defend the manor.” Alpha answered decisively, “Your manor is backed by the river and adjacent to the swamp, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack. In addition, with the preparations and repairs we’ve done during this period, even if the rebels come out in full force, they won’t be able to take your manor easily. We can defend it here.”

"How long can we hold out?" Potal asked anxiously.

“Considering our reserves,” Alpha wanted to offer an optimistic figure to boost the other’s morale, but his meticulous nature led him to give the most conservative estimate: “At least half a month.”

Alpha's answer clearly failed to satisfy Potal, who asked disappointedly, "What about in two weeks?"

“Half a month is enough time for a lot to happen,” Alpha explained. “The rebels may not be able to withstand the losses of a siege and may retreat on their own; it’s also possible that Maplestone City will send reinforcements to join us in defeating the rebels from within.”

“But as far as I know,” Potal frowned even more, “Maplestone City probably doesn’t have the resources to deal with us right now.”

Alpha's tone was calm: "That's why I said maybe."

Potal paused for a moment, then asked, "What if reinforcements don't arrive and the rebels don't retreat?"

“Mayor Potal,” Alpha replied seriously, trying to slow his tone, “from small manors to large fortresses, no fortress is invincible. But a fortress has fulfilled its mission as long as it inflicts more losses on the enemy before it is breached.”

Potal lowered his head and thought for a while, then suddenly looked up and said somewhat incoherently, "Mr. Alpha, I have an idea..."

Alpha pursed his lips.

“You know, Portal Manor can’t be defended forever.” Portal gestured with his hands: “It’s not by the lake. If it’s surrounded by the rebels, even if we have boats, it’s useless… You understand what I mean?”

“Yes,” Alpha thought, “That’s why I suggested you move all your personnel and supplies to the town and set up defenses in the town center. With Shovel Lake behind you, you can attack or defend as you please. But you couldn’t bear to part with your bottles and jars, so in the end you only sent a pitifully small number of troops to the town.”

Although unhappy, Alpha maintained a final bit of politeness and did not voice its true feelings.

Portal said in a deep voice, "The rebels' surprise attack on Shovel Harbor caught us off guard, but it also gave us an opportunity..."

"No!" Alpha refused decisively: "With our strength, there is absolutely no chance of victory against the rebels in open battle."

“Mr. Alpha,” Potal looked at the young man before him and suddenly laughed, “You must think I’m scared out of my wits, right?”

Alpha did not respond.

“Listen carefully, young sir. You are learned, you know how to fight. In terms of book knowledge, you are this—” Potal said, giving a thumbs up, then he changed the subject: “But you don’t understand people’s hearts.”

This time it was Alpha's turn to frown.

“How many people do we still have available?” Potal asked.

“Two battalions and one understrength battalion, 1,400 militiamen,” Alpha answered without hesitation. “And half a company of riders.”

"Militia?" Potal sneered. "How many of them are genuine militiamen? How many are bandits, habitual thugs, and murderers who were forced to join us?"

Alpha's brow furrowed even more.

“I know you don’t want them, and you blame me for taking them in,” Potal asked sadly. “But if we don’t recruit them, where can we recruit soldiers? Are we supposed to arrest every single farmer in Shovel Harbor?”

Alpha remained silent.

“Mr. Alpha, you are very brave.” Potal patted the young man on the shoulder: “If everyone were as brave as you, if everyone were willing to sacrifice themselves to weaken the enemy, the government would surely win the final victory.”

Then Potal pointed out the window: “But they’re not. They’re scum, criminals. They’ll only kneel at the feet of the victors. When they realize we can’t win, they’ll not hesitate to turn their knives on you and me and use our heads to beg for a reward from the Blood Wolves.”

Alpha was speechless, because he knew that Potal was right this time.

“Those deserters said the rebels numbered in the thousands—that’s a lie! The rebels only number around a thousand. If they really had several thousand, the Blood Wolves would have attacked long ago.” Potal tried his best to persuade Alpha: “Besides, ships don’t just appear out of thin air. They can only transport five hundred people at most! Eight hundred at most! Don’t forget, they need to leave men to defend Zhevodan! So our numbers are twice theirs! They came by boat, which means they have no reinforcements and nowhere to retreat. If we can wipe out this rebel force, Zhevodan will be ours for the taking…”

"No," Alpha insisted. "Defense is a more effective form of warfare, and it suits our militia better—a rash attack would be tantamount to gambling! We cannot pin our hopes for victory on the dice!"

"Whether you agree or not! I have to gamble this time!" Potal roared, grabbing his saber from the wall and issuing his ultimatum: "If you're not willing to command them, then I will!"

……

[Within Chanzigang Town]
There wasn't a soul on the street, and the doors and windows on both sides were tightly shut. The townspeople already knew that Shovel Harbor had changed hands, but they didn't yet know how the new owners would treat them.

Tamas, who was posting the notices himself, received news from the scouts: a large enemy force was heading from Portal Manor toward Shovel Harbor, numbering over a thousand, accompanied by a cavalry.

Upon hearing the news, Battalion Commander Bart Sharling, who rushed over, couldn't help but beam with joy: "These bandits from Shovel Harbor are quite bold... Good, it saves us the trouble of fighting them. So, is there any chance to ambush them?"

"Hmm." Tamas made a simple comparison on the pocket map in his hand, and estimated the enemy's current location: "Judging from where the scouts found them... I'm afraid it's too late."

After saying that, he tentatively asked the masked man beside him, "Captain, what do you say?"

"You're the commander, why are you asking me?" Morrow's expression was hidden behind his cold iron mask. He patted the long cannon barrel beside him: "Captain Mason entrusted this to me, this is all I'm in charge of."

“Tamas,” Bart Sharing urged, “Just give the order, they’re just a few petty thieves!”

“Then…” Tamas made up his mind: “Then we’ll meet the enemy at Shovel Harbor—we’ll line up outside the town!”

"Wait!" Bart Sharing was a little confused. He hurriedly grabbed Tamas's arm: "Why not defend the wall? Why are you setting up lines outside the town?"

“Precisely because they are just a few petty thieves, if we defend our position by the wall, they will likely collapse at the first sign of trouble. Then it will be much harder to wipe them out in one fell swoop.” Tamas looked at Captain Moro with some uncertainty: “Captain, what do you think?”

A emotionless voice came from behind the mask: "There's some truth to that."

Although Bart Sharing was somewhat unwilling, he still nodded.

“Then let’s form ranks outside the town to meet the enemy.” Tamas remembered something and hurriedly asked, “Should we inform Lieutenant Cellini and ask him to launch an attack ahead of schedule?”

"You decide."

……

[Outside Shovel Harbor]
Just as Turin's legs were starting to go numb from standing, a soft snore came from under Andrea Cellini's hat.

[However, there was an update on May 8th.]
[37244/100000]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
[It's too late today, I'll add the typos and illustrations tomorrow.]
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(End of this chapter)