Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 475 Rekindling the Spark (The End)

Captain Morrow's visit brought a breath of fresh air to the sweltering office, but Bud still spent most of his day engrossed in a mountain of documents.

It is no exaggeration to say that Bud saved the Iron Peak County military logistics system from falling into chaos.

As the Tiefeng County Army gradually established formal cavalry, artillery, and engineering units on the basis of its infantry, the old system of "the six-person decision-making committee directly managing everything" became increasingly ineffective.

Mason had to continuously expand the size of the "headquarters" and increase administrative staff in order to maintain the daily operation of this army that also handled civil affairs.

As a result, the headquarters of the Tiefeng County Army increasingly resembled a messy study, with all the items arranged according to the principle of "what is most convenient for the user to pick up".

When the user [Richard Mason] is personally in charge, the seemingly cluttered study feels strangely familiar to him, allowing the headquarters to operate efficiently and smoothly.

But once they are no longer under Mason's supervision—as is the case now—with Winters and Mason each leading their own armies to Maplestone and Artemis, the bottles and jars in the study are destined to be broken.

In terms of management, Winters is a decisive leader—any request placed on his desk will be quickly approved—but only if there is actually a desk in front of him.

In other words, Winters only worked when he wanted to. And Winters had always abhorred written work.

Coupled with the bureaucratic system's inherent aversion to asking questions, the civil servants brought to Waughne County chose to send all documents requiring review to Maplestone City and wait for Mason Tribunal to send them back with the approvals.

The administrative efficiency of the headquarters plummeted to an unbearable level.

Fortunately, Bud's timely arrival changed everything. Now, even if Winters doesn't want to work, Bud will force him to sit behind his desk.

Bills, accounts, and requests no longer needed to be sent to Maplestone, followed by an anxious wait for Tribunal Mason to return the approval. Bud's endless discussions with Winters exhausted Tribunal Montagne.

Unlike Winters, Bud was a diligent manager. And sometimes, "decisiveness" needs the impetus of "diligence."

……

After seeing Captain Morrow off, Bud returned to his office without stopping.

He took the parchment from the desk and continued drafting a proposal to "strip the military council of its civil authority."

A short knock sounded, and after receiving permission, Anglu carried a woven basket full of documents into the room.

The two had been working together for a long time, so there was no need for much talk. Anglu categorized the documents and placed them on Bard's desk, and Bard tacitly started looking at the stack closest to his right.

But Anglu then pulled out three letters from his pocket: "You need to take a look at this first."

Bard rubbed his sore eyes and gestured for the young stable boy to sit down: "Whose letter is it? What is it about? Just say it."

“These two letters are from Mr. Priestin and Mr. Shaosha respectively.” Anglu placed the three letters on the table one by one: “This letter is sent in the name of the General Guild of Zhevodan.”

Upon hearing this, Bard frowned slightly.

Anglu succinctly stated: "The three letters are largely the same, all inquiring whether they can exchange our 'gold tickets' in Artemis and Maplestone City."

Bud reached for the letter and began to read it quickly.

……

The industries under the control of the Tiefeng County Army, whether mines, factories, or migrant farms, can currently only provide physical resources and cannot generate profits.

Furthermore, due to the war, the tax base of the newly reclaimed provinces has shrunk significantly compared to the past. The Tiefeng County Army had no choice but to voluntarily reduce taxes to give the people some breathing room.

Therefore, as of now, the main source of income for the Tiefeng County Army is still "seizing spoils of war" and "selling spoils of war".

The largest single source of income came from the "contribution" of the Teldun Department.

This resulted in the Tiefeng County Army having a huge sum of money on its books, but holding it in the form of gold, rather than the silver used in daily life.

It should be noted that in the markets of newly reclaimed lands, gold was rarely used, and even large silver coins of full value were scarce. Transactions between farmers were mostly barter, and even when buying large items, they paid with their accumulated small silver coins and silver cents.

The gold bars in the Iron Peak County military warehouse, each weighing a kilogram, were incredibly valuable, but completely unusable.

In order to turn the gold bars into "money" that could be spent, the Iron Peak County Army conducted large-scale gold-silver exchanges with merchants, manor owners, and guilds in Thervodan—exchanging gold bars for the silver coins they held.

After arriving in Vone County, the Iron Peak County army engaged in a semi-forced gold and silver exchange with Artemis's merchants.

However, unlike the Artemis merchants who were filled with anxiety and took the gold bars as soon as the transaction was completed, the people of Iron Peak County showed a high degree of trust in "Lord Montagne".

Even though the transaction was already completed and all that was needed was to exchange the tickets for gold bars, many merchants from Tiefeng County were delaying taking the gold out of the Tiefeng County army's treasury.

Now, Bud finally understands why they did it.

……

"They certainly know how to take advantage!" Bard placed the letter back on the table steadily and asked with interest, "Are they treating us like a vault that doesn't charge storage fees or a bank that doesn't take a cut of the money?"

“Not only that.” Anglu handed over several cashed bills: “This has happened more than once—a ‘gold note’ ​​issued to one merchant house is redeemed by another. Some people have even asked if they can divide a large ‘gold note’ ​​into smaller ‘gold notes’ like cutting off a piece of flesh.”

Bud listened intently, encouraging the young horse herder to speak his mind boldly with his eyes.

Anglu scratched his chin, hesitatingly concluding, "I feel like... they're using gold tickets as human tickets."

Bard examined the signatures on the cashed tickets, then rested his forehead on his hand, lost in thought. Anglu sat beside him, fidgeting with the hem of his clothes with slight unease.

“Very interesting.” After a moment, Bard smiled and nodded slightly. “If that’s the case, we might be able to take advantage of it.”

Anglu finally grinned with relief.

Bard put the letter and gold notes that Anglu had brought into a paper bag, then carefully cut out a piece of paper, wrote a few lines concisely, sprinkled it with fine sand, and patiently waited for the ink to dry. Then he put the paper into the bag as well: "This matter needs to be discussed with Ms. Navarre. Send a separate group of messengers to deliver this letter back to Zhevodan."

He handed the paper bag to Anglu: "The sooner the better."

"Yes." Anglu smiled, raised his hand in salute, and then turned and left.

Anglu closed the door, leaving Bard alone in the office again.

He stared at the bill he was drafting about separating military and civil administration, glanced casually at the spot on the table where the gold notes and letter had just been placed, then picked up the paper cutter, shook his head, cut off the part that was already written, and put it in the drawer.

After he had done everything, there was another knock on the office door.

After receiving permission, Anglu poked his head in: "Tribunal, another family member of a prisoner of war is requesting an audience—this time, Mr. Anwar Fayeka of the Yenigan Trading Company is acting as guarantor."

Upon hearing this, Bard took out a roster from another drawer. The hard cover of the roster did not bear the winged lion of the Iron Peak County Army, but rather the insignia of the New Reclamation Legion, with the abbreviation of the Vogne County Garrison below it.

"What's your last name?" Bard opened the register.

“My surname is Majya,” Anglu replied with a smile. “Majya Par.”

……

Climbing the narrow stairs and squeezing through the corridor filled with desks, old Majiya and her youngest son arrived at the office that originally belonged to Major Sandel.

The passing clerks didn't even glance at them; everyone was busy with their own tasks and ignored the two incongruous individuals.

Whether this indifference was concealed by contempt or pity, Old Ma Jiya could not know; perhaps it was both.

"Please come in."

A "rebel" officer, roughly the same age as Raul, opened the door for them, and the office of the "Bard Tribunal" appeared before old Majiya.

Compared to the cumbersome process of verifying visitors' identities, the furnishings of the "Protector of the People's Rights" office are surprisingly simple.

The office was filled with the distinctive scent of fresh pine. Apart from the beautiful mahogany desk, all the decorations from Major Sandel's time in office had been removed and replaced by filing cabinets that filled all four walls.

The hastily made filing cabinet wasn't even painted; the nail heads were exposed on the surface, making it utterly unattractive. But it was practical and sturdy, its ordinariness concealing a rugged sense of strength.

Old Ma Jiya's heart clenched involuntarily.

The tribunal invited Majya and his son to sit down, and before the atmosphere became heavy, he asked, "You have come here hoping that I will release Majya Par?"

In conversations, the person who speaks first is often the more passive party. Old Ma Jiya originally thought the other party would give him a hard time, but the "tribal chief's" attitude was unusually approachable.

However, upon hearing the other party's direct question, old Majapah's last glimmer of hope vanished. He rested his hands on his knees and humbly replied, "Your Excellency, I wish to redeem Majapah Par."

As expected, the other party decisively rejected Old Ma Jiya's request: "I cannot agree to your request."

Old Ma Jiya nodded respectfully.

“The gentlemen of Artemis say that we are holding the commissioned officers of Vaughan hostage. Since you have come to see me in person, I should explain to you…” The tribunal then uttered a startling statement: “That’s right, they are hostages. You came because we held them hostage; the others won’t run away because we held them hostage.”

Old Majiya was momentarily stunned, his feigned submissiveness crumbling. He subconsciously frowned, looking at the tribunal with confusion. Sitting beside Old Majiya, Raul could no longer contain his anger, clenching his fists and asking sarcastically, "Do government troops also take civilians hostage?"

The tribunal looked at little Ma Jia with interest: "Not a rebel?"

Raul was speechless.

“Mr. Majiya, Mr. Majiya, of course we know how you view us.” The tribunal rose and walked to the filing cabinet on the right, picking out a thick book from the middle shelf: “You see us as a flood, a storm, a drought, you see us as some kind of natural disaster that you cannot resist, but it will eventually pass. When everything returns to normal, you can go back to living the way you used to.”

Raul was speechless, and old Majiya also remained silent.

“That is precisely why.” The tribunal gently placed the register on the table, carefully opened the seal, and asked as he turned the pages, “Mr. Majiya, how many hectares of land do you own?”

“We…” Old Ma Jiya carefully chose his words: “we just live a relatively affluent life.”

The tribunal found the answer in the register: "Mr. Maja, you have 422 hectares of land registered in your name, two-thirds of which are arable land and the remaining third is mountainous land—including the forests on it. In Oak Town, you are the richest landowner."

“It’s nothing,” Old Ma Jiya replied humbly, “before your authority.”

"Compared to the vast newly reclaimed land, a mere four hundred hectares is certainly nothing; compared to the land that has already been cultivated, your estate is nothing either." The tribune slammed the register shut: "But if you, your neighbors, your friends—add together all the land of all of you, the cultivated land you possess exceeds seventy percent of all the cultivated land in Vaughan County."

The tribunal returned the register to the archives, as if casually asking a question: "Don't you find it interesting, Mr. Majiya? Iron Peak County is much poorer than Warne County, yet the wealth of the self-cultivating farmers and tenant farmers in Warne County is less than that in Iron Peak County."

Old Majiya asked with difficulty, "I don't understand what you're saying, Your Excellency."

"Don't worry about what I'm saying, tell me about yourself." The tribunal returned to his seat and opened another register: "Why did you donate an official position to your son, Mr. Ma Jiya?"

"Of course, it's for the sake of becoming an official," Raul roared inwardly. Having his sore spot exposed, Maja Raul was both angry and embarrassed, and old Maja was speechless.

The tribunal seemed unwilling to waste time, and he gave a direct answer that was more profound than the thoughts of Majid and his son: "Because you are all political pariahs."

Raul abruptly raised his head, and the angry roar of "Who are you calling a lowly person?" almost escaped his lips. But his father grabbed his wrist, stopping his outburst.

Old Ma Jiya looked at her son and gently shook her head.

"Don't misunderstand, before the only powerful force in the newly reclaimed province—the Newly Reclaimed Army—everyone is a lowly commoner." The protector of the people brutally dissected the Newly Reclaimed Province for Old Ma Jiya to see:
"Provincial governments are the Legion's servants; autonomous towns are the Legion's purses; the Grand Council, which nominally represents all the free men of the province, is treated as a rubber stamp by the Legion and is only convened when a stamp is needed."

Old Ma Jiya listened in silence.

"As for you, gentlemen," the tribune said calmly, making the irony all the more pronounced, "the Legion, on the one hand, wins you over, conspiring with you to extract wealth from the newly reclaimed lands and using your power to rule them; on the other hand, it suppresses you and refuses to share any political power with you."

The tribunal tapped the roster on the table and glanced at Little Majiya: "The legion itself is a highly closed and self-sufficient political entity. It only accepts members with the same identity and will never easily admit outsiders."

Although Raul was unconvinced, he had to admit that there was some truth to what the other party said.

The tribunal continued, “You have land, reputation, and knowledge; you are the natural leaders for the vast majority of self-sufficient farmers and tenant farmers. If this were the United Provinces, you would certainly have a seat in the National Assembly; if this were Veneta, the Directory would have to patiently listen to your opinions.”

The tribune stood up, pointing to his own nose: "But in the new settlements, the legion will accept me—the son of a church serf—but not your son—even if you are the owner of a four-hundred-hectare estate."

The tribunal looked down at Majiya and her son and asked, "So, if you're not political pariahs, then what are you?"

“You…” Old Ma Jiya raised his head with difficulty: “Forgive my ignorance, what do you want to tell us by telling us all this?”

“I’m giving you a price.” The tribunal returned to his seat. “You should know what we’ve been doing in Iron Peak County.”

Raul was puzzled.

Old Ma Jiya's Adam's apple bobbed, clearly indicating he knew the answer: "I've heard a little about it."

The tribunal clasped his hands together and said earnestly, “Listen carefully. Personally, I prefer to preserve large farms. Only large farms can produce and supply as much food as possible. Self-sufficient farmers will always prioritize their own needs, and the payback period is too long for us to wait.”

Old Ma Jiya nodded gently.

“However,” the tribunal said calmly, “we don’t necessarily need to retain the landowner class. Rather than keeping you as landowners, we would prefer to be landowners ourselves.”

The office fell into deathly silence.

“Don’t misunderstand, this isn’t a personal grudge, and neither of you has done anything wrong.” The tribunal picked up the upside-down cup and poured a glass of water for each of the two men in front of him. “War is about to begin, and the enemy has far more wealth, people, and land than we do. If we cannot mobilize our forces to the maximum extent, then we are destined to meet the end you have in mind.”

His voice was soft but clear, like reciting poetry: "This is a war of life and death, there are no middlemen, everyone must choose sides. So we will not tolerate non-cooperators, much less saboteurs. We will use every means to survive, because only in this way can we survive."

Even the naive Raul felt an invisible pressure on his shoulders and back.

“Mr. Maja, I hope you will make the right choice, and even more so, I hope you will set an example.” The tribunal sincerely invited, “In exchange, you will receive political equality… and protection of your property.”

The other party's words were too vague, leaving Raul completely confused.

Old Ma Jiya pursed her lips, stared into the other person's eyes, and hesitated to reply.

Only now did Maja Milok realize just how wrong his old friend's judgment had been.

Piety? Kindness? Ease of communication?
Fayeka was practically blind; this "son of a church serf" named Bad was clearly the most determined and unshakeable person he had ever seen among the rebels.

"No need to rush to answer. You'll know when the time comes to make a choice." The tribunal glanced at the sky outside the window: "It's getting late."

Old Ma Jiya was taken aback for a moment, then tactfully stood up and bowed, saying, "Then we'll take our leave, Your Excellency."

"Don't rush. I've already sent someone to invite Mr. Majiya Par." The bailiff called out to the two with a smile, "Although I can't let you take him away, I can at least let you see him."

……

[late at night]
Oaktree Town
[Majiya Manor]
The sound of horses' hooves shattered the midnight tranquility. Unable to sleep, Lady Majiya immediately wrapped herself in a shawl and rushed out of the mansion.

A quick glance revealed only three people riding on the backs of the five horses, and Lady Majiya felt a chill run down her spine. She staggered to her husband's horse and reached into the saddlebag—the gold was still inside.

"My..." Lady Machia's voice trembled uncontrollably, "My..."

Old Ma Jiya dismounted and hugged his wife: "Don't worry, your son is still alive. He's fine and has even gotten stronger."

Madame Majiya's sorrow instantly turned to joy. Wiping away her tears, she asked eagerly, "Then how..."

Old Majiya shook his head, signaling Taso and his youngest son to lead the horse back to the stable, and then helped his wife toward the mansion.

Lady Majya sensed that her husband was preoccupied and seemed unwilling to discuss his experiences in Artemis.

Now that her husband had said Pal was still alive, she forced herself not to ask any more questions. She prepared food and hot water for her husband, son, and Tasso, and only returned to her bedroom on the second floor after making sure everyone was settled.

When Mrs. Majiya opened the door with a lantern, her husband was already lying on the bed.

"Go to sleep," Old Ma Jiya said softly. "There's always tomorrow."

Mrs. Majiya agreed softly, blew out the lantern, and tiptoed back to the bedside, lying down beside her husband.

After an unknown amount of time, Lady Majiya timidly asked a question from the darkness:

"You...you saw Blood Wolf...Lord Blood Wolf?"

After a brief silence, Old Ma Jiya sighed deeply: "Among those traitors... Blood Wolf wasn't the only one. Today, Raul and I met someone even more outstanding than Blood Wolf."

Madam Majiya gave a half-understanding "Oh," and after a while, she couldn't help but ask, "Then...then you didn't see Blood Wolf?"

“Blood Wolf? I saw him.” Old Ma Jiya stared at the dark roof, recalling the heroic man who had suddenly appeared in the office.

He said, half-laughing and half-crying, "Blood Wolf... is indeed extraordinary. He... he was like a street vendor, pulling Raul and me along, trying to sell his... new plow for a long time."

Mrs. Machiavelli was speechless. Recalling what her husband had brought back, she asked in surprise, "You...you didn't buy anything?"

“Of course I didn’t buy one, we have plenty of plows at home,” Old Ma said matter-of-factly, coughing lightly. “But I did buy some things.”

"What did you buy?"

"I bought two bags of nails."

……

On the very night that Maja and his wife were having their bedside conversation, two messengers rushed into Artemis, waking countless people from their sweet dreams and bringing two messages that made Mason groan in pain, silenced Bard, but did not surprise Winters at all.

The first message came from Jinghu County, which had been silent for a long time:
The reason why the Grand Council's army was able to march at a speed that exceeded everyone's expectations and intercept the allied forces at the river valley village has been found—Bazanaur has not fallen;
After learning of the Allied forces' deployment, Sanel preferred to abandon the soon-to-fall Bazenaul, leaving only a small force to monitor the defenders, and immediately set off to return.
However, those are all old grievances—Colonel Gaisa Adonis captured Bazenaul the day before yesterday, and all of them, from Colonel Gaspar down, were taken prisoner.

The second message came from Zhuwangbao:

The Provisional Supreme Council of the Republic of the United Eighteen Provinces passed a resolution to formally and openly intervene in the civil war in Palatine.
The vanguard has already crossed the Benliu River.

[Bard: Winters is Blood Wolf, then I am—Golden Wolf!]
[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]