Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 484 Rebuilding the Nation (Prologue)
[Vogne County]
Oaktree Town
[Majiya Manor]
In the evening, the "Wolf Riders" made a brief visit to the Majya Estate.

Before it was completely dark, another wealthy man from Oak Town—the pot-bellied timber merchant Mikhail—rushed into the gates of the Majya Manor, pulling up his belt and crying as he ran.

"Ouch..." Mikhail, already middle-aged, cried and wailed, grabbing old Majiya's hand without any dignity, "What are we going to do now! Ouch!"

The Majiya family looked at each other, unsure how to comfort one another.

Because Majad, as a "free man," also experienced everything that Mikhail, also a "free man," had experienced.

The wolf riders, representing the will of the Blood Wolves, came and demanded that Maja Milok fulfill the glorious obligations of being a "free man"—obligations she had never fulfilled; and at the same time enjoy the rights of being a "free man"—rights she had never enjoyed.

They demanded that old Majad set off as soon as possible and arrive in Maplestone City within the first week of July to attend the General Assembly of Free Men.

"What a terrible mistake! What a terrible mistake! I was bewitched!" Mikhail, who was also required to attend the meeting, wailed and cried with deep regret: "Why...why did I spend money to buy this hat of a free man! Now this damned hat is going to kill me! Ahhh!"

“Uncle Mikhail.” Little Majiya deliberately emphasized the word “uncle,” and seeing the usually arrogant and unscrupulous timber merchant so flustered, he couldn’t help but sarcastically remark, “You didn’t say that when you first became a ‘free man.’ You bragged about it to my father at the town assembly!”

Mikhail paused for a moment upon hearing this, then grabbed old Majiya's leg and howled even louder.

Old Majiya stopped his youngest son with a look, urging him to stop rubbing salt into the timber merchant's wounds, and then waved his hand, signaling everyone else to leave the living room.

The old servant Tasso was the first to leave. He gave the timber merchant one last disdainful look, then spat on the ground and left the room without looking back.

Little Majiya imitated old Tasso's actions, clumsily spitting a small mouthful outside the carpet before chasing after him.

After bringing the timber merchant a calming drink, Madame Majya glanced worriedly at her husband, then wrapped her shawl tighter and went back upstairs.

Mikhail drank the wine in his glass in one gulp, and only after everyone else had left did he reveal his true purpose.

“Brother Majiya…Brother Majiya…” Mikhail asked, sobbing, “You! You are the person I respect most. Tell me, what…what meeting, should we go or not?”

"The Free Men's Conference." Old Ma Jiaya paused, his face still expressionless, like granite: "Every 'free man' must attend."

Mikhail said with a long face, "There must be some who can't go, right?"

“This is the conference of free men in the newly reclaimed lands. I’m afraid all the ‘free men’ in the province have been notified. If anything is going to be discussed, it must be something major that concerns the entire province.” Old Ma Jia asked, “If you don’t want to go, why did you spend money to buy this title?”

In the Republic of Palatine, a free person does not refer to a "free person," but rather to someone with the right to vote and be elected. Free persons can hold public office, speak first at town and village assemblies, and become members of local or even higher-level councils.

However, becoming a "free man" is not an easy thing. Unless you have rendered meritorious service in the military, you can only buy it with money.

Old Majiya's status as a free man came from his military achievements, while the timber merchant Mikhail spent a large sum of money to acquire him.

“How could I have known this would happen?” Mikhail was filled with regret. He asked tremblingly, “All the ‘people’ from the newly reclaimed land are going? That… how many people would that be?”

“A few hundred people,” Old Ma Jiya replied, seemingly unrelated to the question. “The newly reclaimed land will not exceed a thousand people.”

Upon learning that his title was even rarer than he had imagined, Mikhail felt a strange sense of pride and joy.

But then he thought that it was this very title that had led him to walk into the lion's den, and Mikhail was overcome with sorrow.

"I'm not going." Mikhail asked, his eyes brimming with tears, "Is that alright?"

Old Ma Jiya thought for a moment and replied seriously, "This is not up to me to decide."

"I'm sick!"

Mikhail suddenly became enthusiastic. He pulled up his trouser leg, revealing his short, stubby calves, and searched around the living room before finally choosing a vase.

He grabbed a vase, gestured to his leg, and cried out in a panic, "I...I...I broke my leg! I can't go out! Is that not enough?"

"Mmm." Old Ma Jiya's response consisted of only a nasal sound.

Mikhail gritted his teeth and gestured for a long time, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. After several repetitions, his intense emotions vanished completely. He collapsed to his knees, limp and lifeless, like an empty shell.

"How am I supposed to live like this!" The timber merchant covered his fat face and wailed sadly, "I just had a daughter! How will she live without me!"

Old Ma Jiya silently took back the vase that the lady particularly loved from the timber merchant and carefully placed it back in its original position.

Mikhail suddenly grabbed Old Majiya's leg again, asking incoherently, "Blood Wolf... Blood Wolf isn't planning to kidnap us, is he? Call all the rich households in the newly reclaimed land over and take them all down with him! I heard he has all sorts of cruel tortures! Ahhh! How can he be so heartless! How can I endure this!"

Old Ma asked, puzzled, "How do you know that Lord Blood Wolf uses all sorts of cruel tortures?"

“I…heard it from someone.” Mikhail sniffed hard and added, “But the person who told me that saw Blood Wolf with his own eyes. He said Blood Wolf had a blue face and fangs, and looked ferocious…”

Old Majiya tried hard to recall the young face that had sold him the new plow, but he couldn't reconcile it with the image of a fierce-looking man with fangs and a menacing appearance.

“Lord Blood Wolf,” Old Ma Jiya instinctively corrected the timber merchant, “it’s not what you’re saying.”

Mikhail suddenly perked up: "Brother...you...you've seen Blood Wolf."

Old Ma Jiya nodded slowly.

“He…he…how is he?” Mikhail pressed, “Is he fair? Is he kind? Is he as cruel as they say?”

When asked, the timber merchant's voice trembled with tears: "He...he kidnapped someone...?"

Old Majiya thought for a long time but couldn't find a suitable word to describe Blood Wolf. Although they had only met briefly, what the young leader conveyed to Old Majiya could not be explained in a single word or sentence, and Old Majiya didn't know how to explain it to Mikhail.

After much deliberation, Old Ma Jiaya solemnly said, "I will go."

Mikhail howled for a while before he realized what Old Majiya had said. Instantly, all his tears and snot stopped: "What did you say?"

“I will attend the General Assembly of Free Men.” Old Maja paused for a moment. “I want to hear what Lord Montagne has to say.”

Mikhail stood there, stunned.

Just then, another mournful voice drifted from the direction of the manor gate: "Ahhh! Brother Majiya! What are we going to do! I can't go on living!..."

……

……

Maplestone City
[Officers' Housing Area]
Some people are unwilling to go, but others are willing to come voluntarily.

Upon receiving the notification, Gerard Mitchell and Ellen Mitchell, who were far away in Wolftown, set off immediately, arriving in Maplestone even earlier than many "freemen" in nearby County Vaughan.

The Mitchells are currently visiting Pierre's residence.

The residential area, formerly the headquarters of the New Reclamation Army, is located in the best part of Maplestone City. Standing at the door, you can see the clock tower of Maplestone Cathedral, and opening the window reveals the quietly flowing Anya River.

The complex of apartments formed a separate community, guarded by walls and soldiers, offering privacy and tranquility. Each apartment building itself was also quite expensive to construct. Old Mitchell inspected the entire complex inside and out, finally uttering only one word: "Not bad."

Then, he glanced at his son, snorted, and said, "It's even better than our house."

“You’re joking, Father,” Pierre quickly surrendered, looking pleadingly at his mother. “Mitchell Estate will always be the best.”

Margaret Mitchell, arm in arm with Pierre, glanced tenderly at her husband and smiled, and Gerard Mitchell stopped throwing a tantrum at his son.

“You must have had a long journey.” Pierre, who had briefly escaped his father’s attack, opened the cupboard and frantically searched for the wine bottle. “You must have had a tough time getting here so quickly.”

He had only recently moved into this house, and because he was always traveling, he hadn't actually lived here for more than a few days, and he lacked the awareness of being the "owner".

“It wasn’t tiring at all, much easier than when I traveled far away when I was young.” Girard carefully sat on the crocheted upholstered chair, looking around at the furnishings in the living room. “We came in a new government carriage, and all our meals and lodging were arranged along the way. We arrived at our destination just like we were on a sightseeing trip.”

Pierre finally found his target and, as he walked back, asked his mother, "Is this it, Mom?"

Mrs. Mitchell smiled and nodded.

“That’s good.” Pierre poured wine for his father while explaining, “These houses originally belonged to the officers of the New Reclamation Legion. After taking over Maplestone, Lord Montagne redistributed them to us.”

Girard took the glass but didn't drink. He asked with concern, "So, you're finally a real officer now?"

“We…we, Lord Montagne’s subordinates, are in a rather special situation right now,” Pierre explained patiently and with restraint. “As far as I know, Your Excellency is discussing with other ‘Reconstruction Preparatory Committee’ how to integrate our ranks and positions into the existing system.”

Pierre smiled somewhat sheepishly as he spoke: "However, as you know, if we followed the old rules directly, many of us could have become 'colonels' by now. So... this matter is still under negotiation."

Hearing his son's words, Girard sighed deeply, half with relief and half with disappointment: "It seems that from now on, it will be my turn to salute you."

Pierre quickly tried to protect his father's pride: "How could that be!? Dad, you will always be my 'commander'."

“Let’s have a drink,” Girard said, picking up the bottle and pouring a little for his son, “Pierre.”

"It's an honor," Pierre said, accepting the glass with utmost respect.

Girard and his wife exchanged a glance, and he replied earnestly, "It's my honor too."

Just then, hurried footsteps came from the stairs, and Scarlett, with her short hair, rushed into the living room from the second floor like a gust of wind, loudly announcing, "I want to stay in the second largest room!"

Mrs. Littlecher—Pierre's new wife—followed behind, holding her daughter and smiling in her eyes, as they slowly walked down the stairs.

On their way here, the Mitchells also brought their daughter-in-law and youngest daughter from Gevordan.

Pierre replied without hesitation, "You'll stay in the smallest room."

"You're such a cheapskate," Scarlett said with a sneer. "I knew you'd keep the good stuff for yourself."

“The second bedroom is for my sister and brother-in-law, and the master bedroom is for my father and mother.” Pierre glanced at his parents, then looked at his wife: “Amélie and I will move out.”

"Will Fanny and Alex come too?" Allen unconsciously clutched her chest.

“Yes.” Pierre grasped his mother’s hand. “My brother-in-law will be coming. I sent him a message asking him to bring my sister along as well.”

Girard paused for a moment, then quietly wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand: "Then our family is reunited."

“Yes,” Pierre replied with a smile.

After a brief moment of distraction, Ellen turned her attention back to her son: "We can squeeze in with Scarlett, you don't need to find a place to stay outside."

Upon hearing this, Scarlett showed a very reluctant expression.

“Don’t worry, Mom.” Pierre gently squeezed his mother’s hand, then smiled at his wife: “There are plenty of bachelors here, and empty rooms are the least of our worries.”

“But there’s not a speck of ash in the hearth.” Amelie Mitchell, holding her sleeping daughter, asked timidly, “You haven’t been eating properly either, have you?”

“That’s because I’m out most of the time.” Pierre walked to his wife’s side, ruffled his stepdaughter’s hair, and explained gently, “Even when I come back to stay occasionally, I cook at other people’s places. Don’t worry, I eat very well.”

Amélie nodded shyly. Strangely enough, despite the wife being three years older than the husband and being a remarried couple, the latter was the one in control.

“Oh, right.” Pierre turned to his parents and gestured towards the distance: “Your residence is over there, just a few steps away.”

Upon hearing this, both Girard and Scarlett visibly tensed up.

"Why didn't you say so sooner?" Gerard stood up abruptly, quickly smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes, and scolded his son with exasperation, "In that case, we should have thanked them immediately. How can you know they're right in front of you and not greet them? How could you forget even the customs of the people of Dusa?"

“Don’t worry,” Pierre said, pressing his father’s shoulder. “Your Excellency is certainly not at home right now.”

"Then...where is Your Excellency?"

“Right now,” Pierre thought for a moment and couldn’t help but smile wryly, “it should be at the siege camp.”

"Siege camp? Siege what? Maple Leaf Castle?"

Pierre nodded.

“I heard,” Girard slowly sat back down and asked curiously, “I heard that it’s been surrounded for over a month and they still haven’t taken it down.”

Pierre was momentarily at a loss for words to explain to his father: "The situation is a bit complicated... Anyway, you don't need to worry about being impolite to His Excellency. He said just a few days ago that he would personally visit you when you and Mother arrive in Maplestone City."

Girard let out a long "Oh".

After a moment, Girard asked thoughtfully, "What exactly is Your Excellency trying to accomplish by making such a big fuss this time?"

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Pierre replied without hesitation. “Just do whatever you are asked to do.”

Girard frowned.

……

Meanwhile, at the siege camp outside Maplestone City.

Winters and Mason crouched side by side in the artillery bunker, staring ahead with distress.

In their view, the colossal Maple Leaf Castle sat silently atop the hill.

Although its surface has been ravaged by artillery fire and its fortifications have been destroyed, this massive stone fortress, built by the New Reclamation Army over twenty years, still stands.

On the triangular bunker facing the siege camp, a Red Rose military flag was swaying weakly in the wind.

[Additional explanation: The system of electoral freemen was a real electoral system that existed in British history; in this context, "freemen" does not refer to "free people," but rather to those who have obtained the right to vote and be elected.]
Today, the right to vote and to be elected is a fundamental right of citizens. However, in England and later the Kingdom of Britain, this right was a privilege.
[The requirements for becoming a free person vary from region to region. In some towns, owning property and cooking utensils is enough to become a free person; in others, a large sum of money is required to purchase free person status; and in still others, sufficient assets and annual income are necessary.]
[However, in England at that time, the title of "freeman" was reserved for a small minority, and in some extreme cases, a large town might have only seven freemen.]
[In fact, Britain did not enter the era of one person, one vote until 1948. Before that, voting was a privilege.]
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