Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 504 Rebuilding the Nation (Part 20)

The moment the officers appeared, the main council hall fell silent.

The freemen from various counties either sat up straight with respectful expressions or hunched their shoulders like cicadas that had been chilled by frost; in any case, they all kept quiet and watched the officers file in through the gate.

The officers who entered the main council hall did not go to the seats reserved for them, but instead stood on both sides of the aisle, forming two human walls.

First came the low-ranking officers with blue sashes.

Then came the mid-ranking officers with blue sashes.

Finally, the faces that made many free men involuntarily tense—Gesa Adonis, Skul Mechren, Matthias Colvin, and Winters Montagne, who looked too young standing next to the aforementioned officers, also entered the Great Council and stood at the end of the human wall, directly beneath the domed skylight.

Some of the free men were still wondering why the officers weren't sitting down.

Keen-eyed people have already noticed that there is a guard of honor escorting something in through the gate.

Suddenly, a deep drumbeat rang out in the city square, reaching the Great Council Hall, followed by a desolate horn and a long, drawn-out flute melody.

The sounds of drums, horns, and flutes intertwined to create a mournful melody that echoed in everyone's ears.

Under the watchful eyes of all the "free men," the imposing honor guard, carrying flags stained with smoke and blood, entered the Great Council Hall.

Almost none of the military flags were intact; many were tattered and covered with traces of war.

Girard realized in his heart that this was a ritual to mourn the victims.

He stood up and placed his right hand on his left chest in a gesture of respect.

At the same time, people in other county sectors also stood up to offer their greetings.

Soon, whether voluntarily or forced by the atmosphere, all the "free men" stood up one after another.

The honor guard marched all the way to the speaking area in the center of the Great Council, stopped at the edge of the speaking area, and stood at attention with flags in hand, facing the "free men" on the tiered seats.

The next second, a deafening thunderclap resounded outside the Great Council Hall.

Then came the second sound...

The third tone...

The four bronze cannons roared in turn, every half minute.

Not far away, the bells of Maplestone Cathedral also rang.

As Gerald listened to the sounds of cannons and bells, gazing at the military flag on the speech field, he was overcome with emotion and thought of his comrades from his youth. He still remembered the laughter and tears, but he couldn't recall their faces; only blurry images remained.

He looked at his companion beside him and was quite surprised to find that the ever-smiling "fat man" Nandor was secretly wiping the corner of his eye.

Nandor seemed to realize that someone was watching him and looked up at old Dussac.

Their eyes met, and they both found a sense of comfort in each other.

The cannons fired twelve times, and the bells rang twelve times.

After twelve salutations, the moment of silence ended, the guard of honor lowered the flag, and the officers entered their designated sectors in an orderly fashion, while the freemen from each county sat down again.

Some observant free men—such as Richard from Blackwater—discovered that the officers seemed to know where they should sit, arranged according to rank, from farthest from the central address.

Moreover, the officers' seats seemed to be just right, no more and no less.

This stands in stark contrast to the situation in the counties where free people were either so crowded they had nowhere to sit or so comfortable they could lie down.

As a result, some free men who already lacked trust in the "military group" became even more convinced that the "preparatory meeting" had deliberately arranged the seating in this way to give all the free men a show of force and make them understand who the real owners of the newly reclaimed land were.

To be honest, this idea isn't entirely wrong, but it's only half right.

The fundamental reason for the lack of seats is that the venue's capacity is insufficient.

The "Great Council Hall" where the Free People's Assembly is held is officially called the "Maplestone City Great Council Hall".

In other words, it was an appendage of the Maplestone City Government, not an appendage of the New Reclamation Province Government.

The design of the Great Council Hall was intended to accommodate all the municipal representatives of Maplestone City; it was never imagined that one day it would house all the free people of the newly reclaimed land.

During the thirty years of the New Reclamation Legion's rule, probably no one ever imagined that one day the free men of the newly reclaimed lands would be gathered together for a meeting—although in theory, the "General Assembly of Free Men" was the owner of the highest power in the New Reclamation Lands.

If the Maplestone City Council Hall hadn't been built with seating for observers and some extra space, everyone present would have had to be pressed against each other to squeeze into the council hall.

In fact, throughout Maplestone City, there is only one building that can easily accommodate so many adults.

That is the Maple Stone Cathedral.

However, Winters strongly opposed holding the conference at Maplestone Cathedral.

Although the Maplestone parish now grants Winters's every request, even offering to lend the cathedral to the "preparatory meeting".

However, it was precisely this almost obsequious cooperation and ingratiation that made Winters wary.

Moreover, holding major political conferences in the Catholic cathedral would strengthen the Catholic Church's authority in the newly reclaimed lands.

Thus, the Maplestone Cathedral was unfortunately eliminated due to Winters Montagne's strong opposition.

Therefore, the only indoor venue available is the Maplestone City Council Hall.

Regarding the issue of insufficient capacity in the Great Hall, Winters proposed several solutions, such as removing chairs and adding more seats...

But this time it was Gaisa Adonis's turn to disagree.

Colonel Gaisa had three reasons for his objection:
First, time is of the essence; the sooner the conference is held, the better, as there is no time to modify the seating.

Secondly, the Free People's Conference is only held once, and a lot of effort is made to hold it. After the conference, it has to be changed back, which wastes public funds.
Third, Colonel Gaisa was not particularly concerned about the knee health of the "freemen".

Colonel Gaisa's exact words were: "Let them stand there for a while, what's wrong with that? We fought the war, they're just here to pick up some easy money, what's there to complain about? Humph!!"

In this way, the seating arrangement for the general assembly of all free people in the newly reclaimed land was determined.

While Richard in Blackwater was inwardly criticizing the "New Legion's" arrogance and rudeness, Gerald Mitchell was craning his neck, searching around the officers' seating area next door.

Soon, he spotted his youngest son in the first row.

"There!" Girard excitedly hugged his portly brother beside him, proudly pointing to Pierre's retreating figure: "Look! My son!"

Nandor rubbed his eyes, carefully examined the figure that old Dussac was pointing to, and then turned to look at old Dussac again.

Apart from the same brown curly hair, Nandor had absolutely no way of connecting the handsome young officer sitting in the first row of the officers' section with the burly, rough-looking old Dussac beside him.

But judging from old Dussac's proud expression, it was clear that he couldn't have mistaken the person.

“The first row, truly remarkable. The lady must be even more remarkable…” Nandor exclaimed out of the blue, then continued with envy, “Unfortunately, I don’t have such an accomplished son.”

The free man from Oxhoof Valley rubbed his hands together and asked tentatively, "But I have several daughters, brother. Don't let my looks fool you, my daughters are all..."

It would have been better if he hadn't mentioned it, but when the topic of his youngest son's marriage came up, Girard still felt a little regretful. He sighed, "Pierre is already married."

"Oh dear!" More disappointed than Gerard was Nandor. He clapped his hands, unable to hide his disappointment: "Your son is getting married way too early!"

Old Dussac stroked his beard but said nothing.

“However, as far as I know, His Excellency Montagne has quite a few unmarried young talents under his command?” Nandor quickly found a new target. He affectionately grabbed old Dussac's hand and pitifully pleaded, “Brother, you'd better ask your son to help me make a connection. You're a father yourself, and you know how much a daughter worries her father…”

“Alright,” Richard abruptly interrupted Nandor, “the show is about to start.”

Facing his two friends, both "free men" but with close ties to the "New Legion," Richard of Blackwater was both angry and jealous, and his tone of voice unconsciously became harsher.

"I'm not going to say anymore, I'll talk about it later." Nandor wasn't annoyed, and smiled as he made a shushing gesture.

But the next second, Nandor looked towards the officers' seating area and couldn't help but ask again in surprise, "Huh? Why is the first row full?"

Girard looked in the direction of the sound and found that the first row of seats in the officers' section was full, including several children he recognized—Tamas, Bart Sharing, and Samukin.

However, Winters Montagne was not among them.

Looking around the rest of the Great Council, Gerard found Lord Montagne talking to another lord outside the speaking area.

After a short while, the conversation ended, and His Excellency Montagne shook hands with another gentleman before returning to his seat.

But instead of heading towards the officers' seating area, he went towards the Iron Peak County freemen's sector.

Fat Nandor couldn't help but cheer, and the sector of Iron Peak County immediately erupted in enthusiastic applause. Richard from Blackwater Town also reluctantly joined in the applause.

Applause even came from other counties.

Hearing the applause, the young Blood Wolf was also moved.

He bowed to the free men of Iron Peak County, then smiled and took his seat in the first row of the Iron Peak County sector.

Other senior officers—Gisa Adonis and Matthias Korwin—were also seated in their respective sectors of the “territory.”

The free men of Baishan County and Bianjiang County also applauded, following the "precedent" set by the people of Tiefeng County.

However, compared to the enthusiastic applause from the few freemen of Tiefeng County, the applause from Baishan County and Bianjiang County was rather weak.

Only Colonel Skul Mecklen of Redfield County remained unseatened. After the applause subsided, Colonel Skul walked to the center of the speaking area.

The great council chamber fell silent for a moment as the attendees held their breath, waiting for the "new legion" to utter its first words.

“Free men of the newly reclaimed land.” Colonel Skull’s voice was not loud, but thanks to the amplification effect of the dome, his calm voice reached the ears of the audience clearly: “We have summoned you here because of a sacred duty that you need to fulfill; and you have come here from afar because of a sacred right that you need to exercise.”

As Colonel Skull spoke, tables and chairs were brought into the speaking room through a side door.

The previously empty speech area was transformed into something else entirely—a platform about half a person's height was erected at the far eastern end facing the entrance, upon which sat a tall chair and a table.

Below and opposite the platform, there was another chair, surrounded by a railing.

Two sets of angled copying tables and matching stools were placed on the left and right sides of the high platform, and the clerks sat down next to them.

“The rights granted to me by the Alliance Charter.” Colonel Skull pulled a beautifully bound booklet from his pocket, held it high above his head, and a strange blush rose on his cheeks. “I demand a special trial court!”

Having said that, Skul strode up the platform, sat down on the high chair, and slammed the mallet down:
"Bring the defendant to court!"

"Bring the defendant to court!" the honor guard shouted in unison.

The main doors of the Great Council Hall opened again.

The free men in the hall first heard the clanking of shackles and the sound of boots, and then saw a staggering figure in an officer's uniform.

Although the uniform was worn out, there was no doubt that it was a colonel's uniform from the Cenas Alliance.

The military police led the person being interrogated to the area enclosed by railings, then locked the shackles to the railings and gestured for the person to sit down.

But the person being interrogated simply stood there, his back straight, his eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping contemptuously over the faces on the tiered seats around him before finally settling on Skul Mecklen, who was standing on the platform directly in front of him.

A free man recognized the person on trial and exclaimed in surprise.

"Your accused, you are accused of being a traitor, a murderer, and an unforgivable enemy of the New Reclamation." Skull looked down at the prisoners below and announced with a stern face, "The free men of the New Reclamation have gathered here, deeply saddened by the calamity that has befallen this land, and have decided to settle accounts for the blood debts."

“Did you hear me clearly?” Skul Mechren asked forcefully, “Sanel Caroy?”

Below the high platform stood Colonel Sanel Caroj, the former commander of the New Reclamation Expeditionary Army, the executor of the Maple Leaf Fort massacre, who once commanded the entire Red Rose field force, only to suffer a crushing defeat at the Battle of River Valley...

He burst out laughing.

[Victory is certain!]
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