Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 524 Calming the Raging Spirit (Part 6)

The person who was praising the new two-wheeled carriage was none other than Little Lion.

Upon hearing the little lion's voice, Pierre immediately felt an unbearable headache.

Because the little lion had been pestering him all the way, saying all sorts of nice things in exchange for a new-style carriage to take back to the Chihe tribe.

Pierre refused time and time again, but the little lion persisted and continued to plead and beg.

Pierre had no choice but to avoid them.

The reason is that the other party's identity is too special. He is not only the younger brother of the White Lion and the first heir to the "Khan" of the Red River tribe, but also a shareholder of the caravan and the "owner" of nearly half of the goods that Pierre is currently escorting.

Even more critically, the other party had a close personal relationship with Lord Winters Montagne and was traveling to the newly reclaimed land as an envoy.

Both morally and logically, Pierre could not afford to be negligent, so he had no choice but to hide.

However, no matter how much you try to hide, there will always be a time when you can't escape it, like now.

Pierre could only grit his teeth and deal with it, despite his headache.

“What a fine horse! Your Excellency Yahatchet.” Pierre forced a smile, offering a perfunctory yet polite assessment: “The hooves, the legs, the coat…”

“Of course! Among all the tribes, this is one of the best horses.” The little lion pulled on the reins, circled around, and showed off the black horse under his feet from all angles, boasting, “It’s not much worse than the white horse that Winters took from my brother.”

Hearing the lion cub call the centurion by his name, Pierre's eyelids twitched involuntarily.

However, what the other person said still managed to get his attention.

After carefully examining the black horse, Pierre couldn't help but exclaim, "It is indeed a fine horse."

"Would I lie to you? You have no idea how much effort I put into getting this black horse." The little lion patted the black horse's neck, looking pained. "If you want it, then take it."

Pierre, who was clearly very tempted, immediately and without hesitation refused: "I am merely a soldier of Lord Montagne, without even an officer's rank, and I cannot accept such a magnificent warhorse."

The little lion knew he had failed again, but still joked, "Why can't you afford it? Just trade it for a toy car. If you think you're treating me too unfairly, then give me two."

“Those two-wheeled carriages were commissioned by Your Excellency for trial production; they are not my private property, and I have no right to dispose of them. The carriages are only temporarily given to the transport team for trial use, and I have no authority to allocate them…”

"Ha, I don't believe it." The little lion laughed.

Pierre was speechless, then offered another explanation: "As the Noyan of the Chihe tribe, why should you care about this little cart? The vast wilderness is full of carts, isn't it?"

The little lion answered frankly, "Everyone wants to see something good; that's human nature."

“People should know how to control their desires.” Pierre instinctively retorted, “Desire is the devil’s gift. Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden because they failed to control their desires and ate the forbidden fruit.”

The little lion looked Pierre up and down, and the look in his eyes made Pierre very uncomfortable.

Just as Pierre was about to find an excuse to leave, the little lion feigned surprise and asked, "Don't you already have newly reclaimed land? Why do you still want 'newly reclaimed land'?"

Pierre immediately became alert: "Outer New Lands? What Outer New Lands? Your Excellency Yahatcheth, may I ask who told you this?"

"Why would I need anyone else to tell me? I'm not deaf, blind, or stupid. Besides, how could such a big thing be kept secret? Sooner or later, all the departments will know."

"Your Excellency never intended to hide anything, but this matter is not yet finalized and still needs to be submitted to the National Assembly for approval..."

The little lion waved his hand dismissively: "I don't understand what you're talking about, but I do understand 'deep winter in the mountains.' Since he's drawn his bow, he'll definitely shoot an arrow. And he's already drawn that bow. I think you think the same way I do. Why waste your breath?"
"Why not just say it frankly: why do you need to reclaim more land outside of your newly reclaimed land?"

Pierre paused for a moment: "The newly reclaimed land needs a barrier."

“‘No man’s land’ is a natural barrier.”

Pierre paused for a moment: "After the Battle of Blood Mud, the tribes on the south bank underwent a major reshuffle, and many Hed people fled into the 'no man's land.' Your Excellency had to find a way to take them in and also had to establish an organization to manage them."

"You are also free to refuse to take in fugitives."

"In any case, the land we want did not originally belong to any tribe. We only need the land that originally belonged to the 'no man's land'."

"Heh." The little lion replied casually, "You said the same thing last time."

“You said the same thing the time before last.”

“You said the same thing the time before last.”

Pierre fell completely silent.

The little lion shrugged nonchalantly and spread his hands, saying, "So, no matter what you say, the disciples of the various tribes won't believe you. They'll only believe that 'the army of two-legged people is coming again,' and that they're going to capture the disciples of the various tribes to be slaves again."

"Please believe me, Your Excellency Yahatch, we have no intention of restarting the war, nor do we want to resume hostilities with the Hed tribes," Pierre immediately stated solemnly.

The little lion nodded, just as sincerely as Pierre had when praising his horse.

Pierre was speechless.

“That’s why I wanted to ask you,” the little lion glanced at the governor of the Outer New Lands, “to see if you know—why Winters Montagne wanted to take the Outer New Lands?”

Pierre didn't know how to answer. The only answer he could give was, "Please ask Lord Montagne yourself."

However, the military governor of the newly reclaimed lands was unwilling to give such an answer, as it would be tantamount to admitting defeat to the special envoy of the Red River tribe. The little lion, unhurried, continued riding alongside Pierre, patiently waiting for Winters' subordinates to speak.

Just as the two sides were locked in a stalemate, a wisp of white smoke rose from the front of the convoy.

Although the smoke didn't rise very high before being dispersed by the fierce winds of the wilderness, it was enough for the people behind the convoy to notice it.

Pierre and the little lion also saw the white smoke.

"An enemy attack?" The little lion seemed slightly surprised.

“White smoke, no gunfire, not an enemy attack, it’s a messenger,” Pierre thought.

But he didn't explain the Iron Peak County Army's signal to the Heds, simply telling the little lion, "I have to go check ahead, Lord Yahatch."

Having said that, Pierre bid farewell to the special envoy of the Red River tribe, spurred his horse, and galloped off towards the convoy ahead.

Pierre certainly wouldn't mistake the signal; the person who approached the caravan wasn't an enemy, but a messenger, and one that Pierre never expected.

"What brings you here, Vasya?" Pierre exclaimed in surprise.

“Of course I’ve come to see you!” Vahika replied cheerfully, then became a little more formal and informed Pierre, “The centurion wants to see you.”

"You want to see me? Now?" Pierre was somewhat surprised, but he quickly got into the situation and replied immediately, "Yes! I'll return to Maplestone City right away and arrange for the convoy..."

“No need,” Vahika said with a smile. “The centurion is on the newly reclaimed land.”
-
[West shore of Shovel Lake]
[Wen Duo'er's Old Camp]
Pierre, who rushed back to the old camp of the Wendoer tribe without stopping, instinctively wondered if he had taken the wrong route.

He tried to recall the details and made sure he hadn't gone the wrong way.

He looked at Vasya beside him, hoping to see the same confusion on his companion's face.

However, Sergei Morozov's son just grinned foolishly, as always.

Pierre then looked at the landscape surrounding the old camp—the same mound, the same meadow, Shovel Lake in the distance, and further still, the bare Iron Peak standing alone.

However, the scene at the old camp was completely different from before.

When Pierre left, the Wendor tribe's old camp was just a small village enclosed by a wooden fence, plus about twenty felt tents around it.

More than a hundred men, women, and children who stayed behind struggled to maintain the daily operations of the old camp.

They were busy every day milking cows, herding sheep, feeding cattle, tending horses, whipping butter, washing wool, spinning yarn, tanning leather, and sewing robes...

In short, it was busy from morning till night, with endless work to do. The sounds of milking mare rose and fell, and the camp was never quiet for a moment.

Placed on the vast wilderness, it might be considered a bustling and prosperous settlement.

However, compared to the cities of the settlers, the old camp of the Wendor tribe was utterly insignificant.

Needless to say, Maplestone City, which is theoretically also a "provincial capital", even Revodan, which is located on the very edge of the Alliance's territory, and even Dusa Village in Wolf's Village, the most remote town in Revodan, are far more vibrant than the old camp of the Wendor tribe.

Moreover, being located in the vast wilderness, the old camp of the Wenduo tribe appeared even more desolate and cold.
-
However, the old camp at this moment has completely changed.

Pierre rubbed his eyes and carefully examined the old camp.

The wooden village is still in the same place, but the tents surrounding it are no longer just a pitiful twenty or so, but hundreds—no, thousands!
The rounded felt tents, like morning glories, stretched from the wooden village all the way to the distant pond.

The grassland, which was originally like a green canvas, has been trampled into the shape of roads by the passing livestock and cars.

In the distance, the faint mournful cries of livestock could be heard, presumably indicating the slaughter of cattle and sheep.

In just a few days since Pierre left, the desolate and cold old camp of the Wendor tribe has been transformed into a sea of ​​Hed people.

“Come on,” Vahika called to Pierre triumphantly, pulling him along as they swaggered toward the center of the yurts. “The centurion is waiting for your return.”

The further you go, the louder the music becomes, with the sounds of strings, mouth harps, and snare drums intertwining, creating a somewhat noisy sound because they come from different places.

In the open space between the felt tents, people danced and sang around piles of campfires.

As they walked further, the aroma of roasted meat grew stronger and stronger. It was the kind of aroma that came from roasting the fat until it was slightly melted, roasting it until it had a thin crust, and roasting it until it was so juicy that it burst with flavor when you took a bite. It immediately aroused Pierre's hunger, making his empty stomach rumble.

Pierre swallowed hard and continued walking until he reached the gate of the wooden village.

Among the guards around the fence, Pierre spotted many familiar faces, including not only the light cavalry he had previously commanded, but also those of Major Seber and Lieutenant Cellini's cavalry.

Upon entering the gate, they encountered a frantically busy Belle. As soon as Belle saw Pierre, he couldn't help but shout:

“I told you not to go, but you insisted on going. Why are you only coming back now? The centurion originally wanted you to ‘manage’ this banquet, but… sigh, I’ll have to step in.”

Having said that, Bell grabbed Pierre's hand and dragged him wildly through the wooden village.

The two went straight to the palace tent in the very center of the camp.

The curtain was drawn back, revealing Blood Wolf sitting in the center of the palace tent.

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