Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 457 Houdel

On the night they arrived at Maplestone City, the Iron Peak County army set up an siege camp outside the city.

Compared to its distance from Maplestone City, the camp's location is closer to Mapleleaf Keep, subtly severing the connection between the two cities.

Standing on the gun emplacement in the northeast corner of the camp, Richard Mason explained the essentials of setting up a siege camp: "According to the requirements of the 554 Act, the siege camp must be located at least three kilometers away from enemy territory, near a water source, and in a location that is easy to defend and difficult to attack. At the same time, the siege camp must be built as solidly as possible. If conditions permit, the siege camp should be built according to the highest standard of a permanent military camp."

Besides Mason, there were also a group of new army officers on the gun emplacement.

Whether they were serving in an infantry regiment, artillery unit, or cavalry unit, they were all summoned whenever they were not on duty.

Facing a group of new army officers, Mason tried his best to use an encouraging tone, asking, "Why?"

The appointed commanders of infantry, cavalry, and artillery at all levels looked at each other, some with their own thoughts, but none daring to speak rashly.

Perhaps in the eyes of the soldiers they were high-ranking officers, but in front of the militia officers, they still felt like ordinary soldiers.

“Don’t be afraid, speak boldly.” Mason asked kindly, “Why at least three kilometers? Setting up the camp so far away is just a waste of the soldiers’ energy. As the attacking side, why bother building military camps?”

"Because of the cannons?" someone answered quietly.

“Yes.” Mason nodded approvingly and explained, “If the camp is located too close together, it gives the defenders an opportunity to harass it with artillery. The camp is too large a target, so the artillery doesn’t need to be very accurate. But just one or two shells landing in a tent can keep everyone up all night. Three kilometers is enough to isolate most of the artillery harassment. But that’s not the only reason.”

"To prevent the garrison from raiding the camp," said Bart Sharing.

“Yes.” Mason smiled and nodded again, continuing to explain to the others, “The greater the distance between the siege camp and the fortress, the greater the chance that the defending troops will be exposed during the raid, and the longer it will take to retreat. In many battles, the defending troops often don't take the shortest route when raiding the camp; instead, they attack from other gates, deliberately taking a longer route, and then return from the gate closest to the siege camp after the battle. However, these situations only occur when besieging large cities… It’s hard to explain in a few words, I’ll explain it to you separately later. Anything else?”

Several new army officers voiced their ideas, but none of them were correct, and the artillery platform, which served as a makeshift classroom, fell silent for a moment.

"And the most important reason is to leave enough space as a battlefield for fighting the enemy forces that are relieving the siege," Mason said, revealing the answer directly.

He sped up the explanation, saying, "That's why siege camps need to be built to the highest possible standards. Theoretically, siege warfare requires a huge amount of resources, making it impossible for the besieging army to pose a threat in other directions or to cope with external attacks. In layman's terms, when you are attacking a city with all your might, once enemy reinforcements arrive, the battlefield situation can be reversed instantly."

"The situation of being besieged instead of breaching a city has occurred many times in sovereign wars," Mason remarked casually, "For example, the Siege of Durin in 529. The Allied forces stormed into the city and surrounded the Imperial troops in the city fortress. The Allied forces that occupied the city were quickly trapped by the Imperial forces that came to their aid. Finally, the old marshal arrived with his army and surrounded the Imperial forces that were blockading the city from the outside—encased in four layers, like a pie! So, as the attacking side, you must be even more prepared to be besieged."

Regardless of whether they could understand or not, all the new army officers nodded frantically.

"And that last one... that Siege of Durin," someone couldn't contain their curiosity and asked in a low voice, "who won?"

The officers of the new army all looked at the questioner, and then at Tribunal Mason—in fact, this was what everyone was most concerned about.

“Then we’ve won.” Mason raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise, why would I cite this example?”

The observation deck fell silent once again.

“So,” Mason gestured around, “why are we setting up camp here?”

Behind Mason, the lights atop Maple Leaf Castle were clearly visible. The watchtower was surrounded by freshly harvested, flat, and open farmland.

The siege camp of the Tiefeng County army was neither near a water source nor easy to defend, and the distance between it and the enemy's fortress was less than three kilometers.

“Because reconnaissance and intelligence indicate that the garrison of Maple Leaf Castle no longer possesses large-caliber artillery, and only a few small-caliber rotating cannons remain inside the castle. Therefore, we can boldly approach and set up camp right next to Maple Leaf Castle.” It was already late, and Mason did not have time to continue his heuristic teaching: “Similarly, only by being close enough can we deter the Maple Stone City militia and respond promptly to any unusual movements.”

"In short," Mason concluded, "not only is it important to understand the theory, but also to be adaptable to different situations."

The new army officers applauded, and many breathed a sigh of relief—finally, they could go back to rest.

After walking all day, digging ditches half the night, and being dragged to class at the last minute, everyone was exhausted.

"Having discussed the attacking side, let's talk about the defending side." Mason continued, "There are no fortresses that cannot be breached, but why do we build them? Because a fortress is not only a shield, but also a fulcrum, a springboard, and a spearhead. It can not only wear down and delay the enemy, but also provide a secure supply depot and protect friendly forces for inland maneuvers. Even if the enemy eventually breaches the fortress, the fortress itself is enough to inflict heavy losses on them..."

"So," Mason pointed to Maple Leaf Castle, his eyes gleaming, and asked, "Look at this sturdy fortress, and then look at the surrounding terrain and environment. What can you learn from its location?"

……

Although the form of combat involving attacking and defending cities and fortresses was not highly valued in the Kingdom of Galloping Horses.

However, within the alliance's military system, siege tactics are undoubtedly a complex subject, perhaps even one of the most important aspects.

In terms of siege warfare alone, everything from the selection of the main camp location to the determination of the main attack direction, from the methods of blockading enemy strongholds to the timing of using psychological tactics, is very particular.

In the past, this military knowledge—not just siege tactics—was passed down orally only within the aristocratic class, with young nobles learning how to command an army by serving high-ranking nobles.

So when they actually took over the command flag of an army one day, they naturally knew what to do.

In this way, the ruling class monopolized military knowledge and successfully extinguished most uprisings in their early stages.

However, the drawbacks of this approach are equally obvious: after just one or two generations of peace or a devastating defeat, the aristocratic class can completely lose the knowledge necessary to organize a large army and can only start accumulating it all over again from scratch.

It may even remain at a small-scale level for a long time due to a lack of external threats.

However, the Allied military system established by Field Marshal Ned Smith did not have this drawback.

Through monastic military education, Winters, Mason, and other Allied officers no longer needed to learn from experience bit by bit through practice; instead, they could learn from books the lessons learned through the blood and tears of their predecessors.

However, when the new army of Tiefeng County arrived, the situation was reversed once again.

Apart from the superstructure, all the junior and middle-ranking officers in the Iron Peak County New Army were selected through actual combat.

They are brave, loyal, intuitive, and incredibly lucky. Compared to the naive and clueless cadets who have just entered the military academy, they already possess all the qualities to become qualified military commanders.

What they lack is knowledge.

Winters and Mason had to seize every opportunity to cram knowledge into their heads.

……

……

The day after setting up the siege camp, the company where Monkey was located received orders to dig trenches.

Some new recruits are not yet used to digging trenches, but veterans who have experienced the bloody battles are already very skilled at it.

The supply battalion delivered a whole cartload of shovels, axes, and pickaxes. After receiving the tools and having a hearty meal, the soldiers led their men out of the camp and began digging.

When digging, you can't dig straight; you have to dig at an angle.

First, dig out a twenty-step stretch and then widen it.

Then dig out twenty steps vertically, and then widen it.

Finally, the trench was designed to have a W-shaped, meandering appearance.

Although Maple Leaf Fortress no longer possessed effective means of counterattack, the Iron Peak County Army still dug trenches with meticulous precision.

Not only were the hidden troop shelters at the bends of the trench reinforced with wood, but branches and straw were also collected from all over the place to cover the top of the trench, blocking the view from the top of the wall.

While those at the front were busy digging trenches, those at the rear were busy weaving baskets. It was as if they were attacking a heavily fortified stronghold rather than besieging a fortress with only a few hundred old, weak, and disabled people.

Compared to the overwhelming force of the Tiefeng County army, the defending troops' response seemed rather weak.

When the Iron Peak County army was first spotted digging trenches and approaching, the defenders fired several rounds of cannon fire from the walls of Maple Leaf Fortress. However, seeing that the cannons, which weighed less than a pound each, were being fired at them, the rebels ignored them, and the defenders stopped wasting gunpowder.

So the garrison in Maple Leaf Fortress could only stare helplessly as the Iron Peak County army "did whatever they wanted."

Knowing that the monkey was about to be promoted, the soldiers assigned him an easy task: cutting down trees.

Upon hearing the sergeant's words, the monkey silently put down his pickaxe, took the axe and the cart, and headed to the woods outside the city.

A two-horse carriage travels along a suburban road, with freshly harvested wheat fields on both sides.

Oxen and draft horses strolled through the harvested wheat fields. These large animals were quite clever; they would eat all the remaining ears of wheat before they would deign to taste the stalks.

"That's great. When the next round of rewards is given, we should get land too, right?"

"Probably, but I don't know where we'll be assigned."

The speaker was one of the monkey's comrades-in-arms. They had followed the monkey to heaven and no longer needed to dig in the scorching sun.

The monkey kept its head down, driving the carriage without saying a word.

The tent where the monkey was originally housed six people, but after the battle of River Valley Village, only three of them were still able-bodied, and one of them is currently lying in the wounded soldiers' camp.

The monkey remained silent, while the other two comrades chatted amongst themselves, each offering their own comment.

The soldiers in the same tent had an unusual relationship. The two comrades knew that the monkey was saddened by Paco's death, but unlike the others, they didn't remain silent when they saw the monkey looking gloomy. In fact, their "normal behavior" was the greatest comfort to the monkey.

"Sigh, we're already at the edge of Maplestone City, but they won't let us in. I don't know what the officials are thinking!" A soldier complained, chewing hard, dried horse meat with difficulty. "I've never even seen what a big city like Maplestone City looks like! Can't they just let me in and take a look?"

"Who doesn't know what you're thinking?" Another soldier leaned against the carriage railing, laughing and cursing, "You just want to visit a brothel?"

"Stop talking nonsense!"

“Sergeant Lu Xirong once said that the few silver coins we have in our pockets will be wiped clean in less than a day, and we will be left with a mountain of debt.”

"When did I say I was going to that kind of place?"

"Alright, alright, I guess I framed you. Hey, did you hear?" The soldier leaning against the railing lowered his voice and said mysteriously, "The list of commendations has been released. Company Commander Bunir is still number one in acreage this time, and I think the commendation he received is called something... yeah, 'First to Charge'? It means being the first to rush in and risk his life."

"That's why we say they're so great!" Another soldier shrugged matter-of-factly. "When it comes to merit based on kills, they're number one. Now that there's no merit based on kills, they're still number one."

"How many acres does he own?"

"one thousand?"

"A thousand? It's been a thousand for a long time, I estimate it's at least two thousand."

"My God, two thousand acres. If I had two thousand acres, I wouldn't carry a musket anymore, I'd go home and become a landowner."

"Even if you're alive to earn it, you still need to be alive to use it." The soldier leaning against the railing laughed and cursed, "By the time you've accumulated two thousand acres, you'll probably have to risk your life."

After saying that, he looked up at the blue sky and sighed, "I don't need that much, two hundred acres will be enough. I just hope that the war can end soon, so I can go home, build a small wooden house, and raise a few horses. In the first year, I will only plant barley, and in the second and third years, I will plant wheat when the land is ripe. In less than ten years, I will be able to replace the wooden house with a big house. Then, I will live there until I die of old age."

The other soldier, listening, couldn't help but sigh as well.

"How is the compensation calculated for those who have died?" the monkey asked abruptly. "Has it been said?" The soldier leaning against the railing paused for a moment, scratched the back of his head, and said, "It seems to be the full amount based on twelve years of service. If there are children, it goes to the children; if there are no children, it goes to the parents."

"Nothing at all?" the monkey asked again.

"What else can we do? If we don't have any, then we just won't give them to us."

The monkey grunted and pulled on the reins: "We're here! Get off."

The three men parked the cart outside the road, unyoked the horses, and let them graze. Then, they picked up their axes and slowly walked towards the woods.

Cutting down trees is not easy, but there is one advantage—you can be lazy.

Unlike digging trenches, where each tent and team works simultaneously and it's immediately clear who is lagging behind, this method is different.

But the monkey was not appreciative; even though no one was supervising, he still swung the axe with all his might.

The monkey didn't actually want to cut down trees; he preferred to dig trenches because the heavy, arduous physical labor would keep him from overthinking.

He struck the tree trunk repeatedly, as if he were hacking down an enemy.

Splintered wood flew everywhere, and one after another, pine trees as thick as a hand fell with a groan.

The monkey did almost the work of two other people. Before he knew it, he was no longer the skinny, slippery "monkey" but had become a strong, taciturn soldier.

From morning to noon, they had cut down about a cartload of logs. Monkey and his two comrades then called back the draft horses and dragged the logs one by one from the forest to the roadside.

As the three men were drenched in sweat, a messenger cavalryman galloped over on horseback.

The messenger cavalryman, dressed in a smart green uniform, politely asked, "Which one of you is 'Houdel'?"

The other two soldiers were somewhat bewildered, and Monkey was initially puzzled as well, but then he remembered something and, amidst the astonished gazes of his comrades, walked toward the messenger cavalryman: "I am."

"Please come back to camp with me." The messenger pointed to another horse tied to the saddle: "Tribunal Mason wishes to see you."

The monkey wiped his sweat: "But what about my work?"

"Cut down trees?" The messenger nearly choked. "It seems we don't need to do it anymore."

The monkey frowned: "So many logs, and only two people left here, when will we be able to move them all?"

“It’s alright! Go ahead! Go ahead!” The comrade behind him hurriedly stepped forward, grabbed the monkey’s coat from the vehicle and handed it to him: “The two of us can finish this. It’s just a few trees. It’s a piece of cake.”

The messenger cavalryman very considerately suggested, "How about this, you come back to camp with me first, and I'll go and inform the company's chief sergeant and ask him to send a few more men to help?"

The monkey thought for a moment, nodded, and then said, "There's another question."

The messenger cavalryman was puzzled.

"I can't ride a horse."

"It's alright." The messenger cavalryman smiled. "You can lie on the horse's rump."

……

After a bumpy journey, the monkey was taken back to the camp by the messenger cavalry.

The military camp was like a small town, divided into various areas. Outside the central camp, the messenger cavalryman ordered the monkey, whose internal organs were nearly dislodged from its horse.

"The headquarters is inside," the messenger cavalryman said.

The monkey asked, puzzled, "Aren't you coming in with me?"

"I cannot enter the central military camp without permission." The ordering cavalryman raised his hand in salute: "You will have to go see Tribune Mason yourself."

The monkey had never actually been to the central military camp. Even within the camp, there were strict restrictions on entry and exit between different areas, so it was impossible for a mere soldier like the monkey to visit the central military camp.

But this was the first time someone had saluted a monkey, and not wanting to lose face, he returned the salute and walked stiffly toward the camp gate.

The guards at the gate checked the monkey's identification tag and let him in.

In the center of the central camp were three large tents arranged side by side, and around the large tents were some smaller tents.

Soldiers with weapons hanging from their waists and clerks wearing civilian shoes moved back and forth between the tents. Everyone was busy, and the monkey seemed to have wandered into another world.

He brazenly stopped a clerk and asked where the tribunal for the Masons was located.

When he reached the entrance of Tribune Mason's tent, he realized that the Tribune wanted to see more than just him—there were already about thirty people gathered inside the tent, some of whom he recognized and some of whom he did not.

Suddenly, the monkey noticed that his friend Doug was among them. Doug also saw the monkey and waved to him with a smile.

The monkey hurriedly entered the crowd, squeezed next to its friend, and excitedly asked, "Why are you here too?"

“The prospective trainees are all here,” Doug replied, as always, with conciseness.

Just as the monkey was about to ask more questions, the atmosphere in the tent suddenly changed. Everyone stood up straight, feet together.

The monkey also instinctively stood at attention.

Richard Mason entered the tent where the monkeys were.

Tribunal Mason was still very friendly and approachable. He raised his hand to signal everyone to take a break.

The monkey noticed that the tribunal looked tired, and his fingers were covered with charcoal powder and ink stains.

"Some of you have probably already guessed why I've summoned you here, so I won't hide it from you," Tribunal Mason announced with a smile. "You have all passed the selection process and will soon officially become the first batch of students at the New Reclamation Military School."

I don't know what the others were thinking, but the monkey's heart was still beating faster than usual.

"The school is still under construction, but I'm short-staffed right now, so I thought of you all," Officer Mason's magnetic voice continued. "The work I'm doing here is the responsibility you'll be undertaking in the future. So it wouldn't hurt to let you familiarize yourselves with it beforehand, would it?"

The monkey didn't react for a moment, but the others wouldn't wait for him.

“Alright, let’s get to work now.” Tribunal Mason clapped his hands. “Who can do math? Raise your hand.”

Some people raised their hands.

Tribunal Mason nodded, and an officer led the group of people who were still raising their hands away.

Who can read and write?

Who can draw diagrams?

Who knows carpentry?

"who……"

The number of people around dwindled, and Doug left too. As he left, Doug glanced at the monkey with concern, touched the monkey's hand, and then walked away in silence.

In the end, only the monkey was left in the tent.

The tribunal approached the monkey: "What's your name?"

Although it was just a simple sentence, the monkey felt an immense sense of humiliation for no apparent reason—the most humiliating thing for the monkey was that this humiliation did not come from others, but from his own incompetence.

The monkey, fighting back tears, answered in a low voice, "Monkey—Hodel."

“Hodl, recruiting for the Battle of Bloodsludge, um…” The tribunal’s voice was still warm: “You captured Axel Orange. Haha, you made him suffer.”

The monkey lowered its head, not wanting the tribunal to see its eyes, and swallowed its tears.

"It's alright if you can't read or write. Tamas couldn't read or write before, but now he's a battalion commander. The military school will offer a special course for you to help you learn to read and write as soon as possible." The tribunal comforted him for a moment, then asked, "By the way, can you ride a horse?"

The monkey couldn't ride a horse, but this was his last chance, and he instinctively wanted to answer "yes."

Because in the first ten years of his life, shirking responsibility and avoiding punishment had become a habit. Faced with consequences he couldn't bear, he always subconsciously chose to lie. That's why a monkey is a monkey.

But now, something else—an instinct shaped by his military life—prevented him from lying.

"No," the monkey replied.

He kept his head down, not daring to look at the tribunal, afraid of seeing the disappointment in the other's eyes.

"Oh." The tribunal scratched his stubble in annoyance, then suddenly clapped his hands: "Alright, you can go to the prisoner-of-war camp."

Mason went to the table, quickly wrote a note, and then sprinkled some fine sand on it. After the ink was absorbed, he folded the note and handed it to the monkey.

"Hand over this note," the bailiff said with a smile. "The guard will take you there."

The monkey raised its arm and gave a solemn salute.

……

The prisoner-of-war camp was a separate camp, but it was not far from the main siege camp.

The monkey walked for only a short while before reaching the gate of the prisoner-of-war camp.

The monkey handed the note to the guard, who then took the note and entered the camp.

A short while later, the officer in charge of the prisoner-of-war camp came out. He glanced at the monkey with suspicion, but after checking its identification tag, he nodded and beckoned, "Come with me."

The officer in charge of the prisoner-of-war camp did not bring the monkey into the camp, but instead led it to a shady spot outside the camp and then turned and left.

In the open space under the shade of the trees, two people wearing arm armor, helmets, and holding wooden swords were sparring—or rather, it couldn't be called a sparring match, but rather a one-on-one instruction session.

Upon seeing the monkey approaching, the two stopped what they were doing.

One person stood silently with his sword in hand, while the other turned to look at the monkey and lifted his mask.

The monkey suddenly discovered that he had been given a "job" that would make the other trainees green with envy.

Because beneath the mask are the wolf's eyes.

[The bonus chapter contains a beautiful engraving depicting a siege battle, specifically the Siege of Prague in 1648.]
[The reason this painting is considered "good" is because there are very few painters who understand military affairs, and even fewer who can capture the various details of a siege battle.]
[What previous painters depicted is not necessarily accurate. Most painters never fought in battles, and even those fortunate enough to witness battles could only rely on their imagination to guess at details they didn't understand. This is even more true for painters who never had the opportunity to witness battles and relied entirely on their imagination.]
[The print in the bonus chapter perfectly captures the details of the battlefield, from the defenders' fences, weapons, and walls to the attackers' trenches, cannons, distant mortars, troop movements, and so on. Every detail is worth zooming in on to see.]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)