Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 498 Rebuilding the Nation (XIV)

Gerard Mitchell has been in Maple Rock for almost half a month.

In the first few days, Mr. Mitchell was still able to experience some novelty.

He accompanied his wife to visit churches, watch plays at theaters, and enjoy the scenery along the banks of the Anya River, making up for many regrets from his youth.

However, as the days went by, this kind of life made Gerard Mitchell increasingly uncomfortable.

He couldn't pinpoint what was wrong, but he just felt unwell all over.

He even hoped that the Free People's Conference would be held earlier so that he could go home sooner.

In contrast, the other members of Mitchell's family adapted better to life in the provincial capital:

Scarlett was curious about everything when she first stepped into the "big city". Every day she would sneak out of the house and wander around the city.
Although Amelie Mitchell also felt a little uncomfortable, she was clearly happier with her new husband's company.
Ellen Mitchell is the one who needs the least worry.

Mrs. Mitchell's demeanor and conversation aroused envy among the "Maplestone ladies" who came for a courtesy visit, which in turn improved Pierre Mitchell's reputation among them and made them regret that "Lieutenant Mitchell" had married so young.

However, Ellen never said anything to her husband like "Maplestone is better than Wolftown".

In fact, she was the only one who could understand Gerard's distress.

“It’s okay.” Every night before bed, Ellen would hold her husband’s hand in the dark and softly comfort him, “We’ll be home soon.”

Girard felt ashamed in the face of his wife's tenderness.

His youngest son's question echoed in his mind again and again: "Don't you think Mom prefers living in the city?"

Gerard felt guilty about his selfishness, but he didn't understand why being in Maplestone City made him so irritable.

Is it because they have nothing to do?
But there was nothing to do in Wolf Town either.

In the years leading up to the unrest, Girard spent his days either sleeping at the town hall or walking his dogs on his estate.

Apart from hosting barbecues during harvest season and festive occasions, Gerard Mitchell literally has nothing to do.

The excessively leisurely life completely transformed the brave and strong Dussac into a cheerful, nouveau riche country bumpkin.

So much so that Pierre's father was, from the very beginning, a kind-hearted and plump figure.

Young Mitchell only learned of Old Mitchell's dashing and heroic figure on the battlefield from others, who were still skeptical.

After the estate land was allocated to a refugee farm, Gerard Mitchell stubbornly carved out half a plot of farmland in his own backyard.

But he was getting old and could no longer work as tirelessly as before, so only half of the newly reclaimed land was planted with grain, and the other half with some vegetables and fruits. Moreover, it was mainly his daughter, daughter-in-law, old hired help, and old comrades-in-arms who helped manage it.

Girard asked himself—the reason of "doing nothing" was not sufficient.

So, is it because your old friends aren't around that you feel lonely?
Not at all.

Although Girard's old friends and comrades-in-arms are in Wolftown, many of their sons and even grandsons are now in Maplestone City.

Blood Wolf brought a large number of young people out of Wolf Town, and those who are still alive have grown into backbone officers of the Iron Peak County Army.

Hearing that Mayor Mitchell had also come to Maplestone, they flocked to visit and greet him, practically wearing down the threshold of Pierre's residence.

It is no exaggeration to say that Girard has seen more guests in the past two weeks than in the previous year.

Therefore, the reason of "having no relatives or friends" is not solid enough.

What truly made Gerald Mitchell uncomfortable in Maplestone was perhaps a reality he was unwilling to face deep down:

In Wolf Town, he was a highly respected mayor and a well-known Dussac. Whenever anyone saw Pierre, they would say, "This is Mayor Michel's son."
However, in Maplestone City, he was just a "country landlord" from a small border town, and no matter who he met, he would be introduced as "the father of Adjutant Mitchell".

Once, his youngest son caused trouble, to the point that he was unable to attend school and had to serve his entire military service, which kept old Gerard awake at night.

Now that his youngest son has made a name for himself and entered a social class that his father could never reach, with a bright future ahead, old Gerard feels somewhat lost.

Joy mixed with sadness, relief mixed with disappointment, pride mixed with self-deprecation—Mr. Mitchell couldn't quite grasp the complexities of these feelings.

The only thing that brought Gerard any comfort was that his daughter and son-in-law had finally arrived in Maplestone.

The couple even brought their toddler daughter along, just so that Girard could meet his granddaughter.

The joy of family life unconsciously eased the gloom in Girard's heart. While playing with his granddaughter, Girard even unconsciously thought—it would be worth it to leave this world like this.

However, his inherent stubbornness and obstinacy prevented him from easily admitting defeat.

The oppressive feeling that Maplestone City brought to Gerard was never truly dispelled.

So when old Mr. Mitchell once again took his hat off the hook and tiptoed toward the door, Ellen stopped her eldest daughter, who was about to call out to her father, with a look.

Only after her husband had disappeared out the door, thinking he had gotten away without anyone noticing, did Ellen speak up: "Let him go out and clear his head."

“But…” Fanny hesitated, then gently reminded her mother, “Dad will definitely be back very late again.”

Ellen understood her daughter's unspoken message, and she held her eldest daughter's hand: "Don't worry, I believe Mr. Mitchell can take care of himself."

……

As soon as he stepped out of his house, Girard felt much easier to breathe.

As usual, he went to the stables first.

When Changsheng, who was locked in the stable, saw Gerard from afar, he immediately began to bark happily like a dog.

Thanks to the New Reclamation Corps' lavish investment, the facilities in the Maplestone City officers' quarters are truly luxurious. Not only is there a large public stable within the community, but a small racetrack has even been carved out on prime riverside land, complete with dedicated orderly personnel.

In this way, officers no longer had to keep their horses in their own backyards, which was quiet and hygienic.

However, in Girard's view, although the "gentlemen" had built a nice stable, the orderly sent to take care of the horses were all lazybones—at least by his standards.

But Girard couldn't very well interfere with the "gentlemen's" arrangements.

Therefore, he did not complain to anyone, but quietly took time every day to personally take care of his own horses and Changsheng.

"Eat up, eat up." Girard took a washed radish out of his pocket and fed it to Changsheng.

As he stroked Changsheng's neck, he muttered to himself, "Tell me, why did I have to bring you here? Wouldn't it have been better to let you run around freely in the countryside? Now look what's happened, I've locked you in the stable, and you don't even have anyone to keep you company."

Changsheng nodded repeatedly as he ate the radish, seemingly in agreement.

As Blood Wolf's beloved horse, Changsheng was also brought to the provincial capital when the "logistics department" of the Iron Peak County Army moved from Vone County to Maple Stone City.

However, Winters has been too busy lately, mainly traveling by carriage and rarely even riding his long wind.

As a result, the little foal Changsheng was also "neglected" and lost the treatment of having Blood Wolf shovel manure for him.

Fortunately, there's still Gerard Mitchell.

After feeding all the carrots to Changsheng, Gilard wiped his hands clean and gently rubbed Changsheng's forehead: "You glutton, one is enough! I still have work to do!"

After saying that, Girard rolled up his sleeves and began his daily "work".

As usual, he first checked the horses' complexions to make sure they were alright; then he checked the feed troughs to make sure the "lazybones" weren't feeding them whole bundles of hay directly; finally, he fetched clean, fresh water and replaced yesterday's stale water in the bucket.

After ensuring the horses were well-fed and watered, Girard took a shovel and went into the stable to remove the manure that the "lazybones" hadn't cleared away in time.

None of the work in the stables was easy, but Girard did it with great pleasure.

He wielded his shovel, unconsciously humming a vulgar tune by Dussac, and deftly cleaned each stable before re-laying it with hay.

When the stables were completely renovated, Gerard's clothes were soaked with sweat.

He unbuttoned his shirt, slowly sat down on an overturned bucket, supporting himself on his knees, and panted heavily.

The orderly in charge of managing the stables diligently brought beer to "Mitchell's father," then discreetly disappeared, leaving the stables back to the eccentric old man.

After resting for a while, Girard rallied his spirits again.

He took a rope from the tool shed, then led Changsheng out of the stable and to the racecourse.

Changsheng was overjoyed when they arrived at the racetrack. Girard tied the rope to Changsheng's bridle, stood in the center of the racetrack, and let Changsheng run freely around the track.

Looking at Changsheng's agile and nimble gait, Gilard couldn't help but feel a bit resentful towards Blood Wolf, yet also a bit smug.

"As expected of the colt I bred, it's wonderful! It's a pity it's locked up in the stable every day; it'll be ruined sooner or later." Girard thought to himself, "Luckily, I'm here."

Changsheng is now in its tenth month of life. It is already larger than many adult horses, but its proportions are still those of a foal—long legs and a small body, which makes it look a little comical.

Girard estimated that after a while, he could try to prepare a saddle for Changsheng and start some basic training.

“But now,” Girard thought, looking at Changsheng frolicking in the arena, “let it run freely.”

……

When Gerard Mitchell walked comfortably out of the stable, the sun was already setting.

Old Mr. Mitchell glanced at the setting sun, then turned and, instead of heading towards Pierre's residence, turned and left the officers' quarters through a side door.

Just outside the side gate was the Anya River. Gerard walked downstream along the riverbank for a while, crossed the bridge, and continued downstream until he finally arrived at a bustling market street.

Feeling guilty, Gerard slowly walked toward the pub on the street corner. After hesitating for a moment, he reached for the doorknob.

As soon as I opened the door, the familiar noise, smell of strong liquor, and stench of sweat hit me again.

The tavern owner greeted old Dusac as he entered, "You've arrived? The usual?"

Girard placed two small silver coins on the counter: "The usual."

"It'll be ready soon." The tavern owner smiled as he put away the silver coins, then gestured towards the west wing: "We have a musician here today, why don't you move over there?"

Girard shook his head and walked towards the east wing where he usually sat.

However, the east wing was particularly deserted today, so Gerard followed the tavern owner's advice and turned to the west wing, randomly finding a spot against the wall.

The tavern waiter quickly served him food and drink, nothing special, just some very rough food: a plate of bean stew with offal, a large piece of hard on the outside and soft on the inside black bread, and a bottle of cheap liquor.

Logically speaking, Gerard Mitchell shouldn't have been interested in what his staff served him.

But for some reason, old Dussac has been reminiscing about the things he ate when he was young lately, and he comes to drink a bottle every day.

In the center of the west wing, the lute player wearing an exaggerated hat finally tuned his lute.

He cleared his throat, plucked the strings, and as soon as he began to sing, his rough, booming voice startled the drinkers: "Muse! Speak for me! The story of the blazing sun and the freezing ice, a story from the ends of the sea, from the kingdoms of the North..."

At the same time, a handsome blond man dressed as a mercenary with a sword approached Gilard's table and politely asked, "Sir, may I sit here?"

[About Pierre's sister]
[A reader previously expressed their hope that Pierre wouldn't be given an older sister just for the sake of plot development.]
[Actually, this reader and I think the same thing.]
[I don't want to write about any more unnecessary characters, because there are already enough characters who have appeared XD]
[But Pierre's sister wasn't forced into the story; this was part of the original concept.]
The Mitchells had three sons and three daughters, a total of six children.
[Of these, three died young. Pierre was the only son who survived. Before Pierre, two boys and one girl died young. Pierre also had a younger sister, so it can be deduced that Pierre also had an older sister.]
[This description was too unclear; it was the author's mistake and has been corrected in the original text, see Chapter 22 of Volume 2.]
[According to the prevailing social norms of the time, Pierre's sister would likely have married a free man.]
[Since it's a general meeting of all free men, Pierre's brother-in-law, as a free man himself, should also be present.]
[Therefore, Pierre's sister had to make an appearance.]
[Therefore, the author didn't give Pierre an older sister just to advance the plot.]
[However, if Pierre's sister is not mentioned at all during the Free People's Conference, there will be a plot hole.]
[As for Pierre's sister and brother-in-law, there's really nothing special about their storyline, so don't worry XD]
[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)