Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 532 Calming the Raging Spirit (Part Fourteen)
Upon hearing Pierre's voice, Winters immediately sat up.

He had intended to invite the lion cub directly into the tent, but the swelling and pain in his eyes reminded him that "now" was not a good time to receive the envoy.

Winters cleared his throat and replied in a low voice, "Please rest in the guest tent, Lord Yahatch, I will visit you later."

“Yes!” Pierre replied through the felt, then his cold voice rang out again, “This way, Your Excellency Yahatch.”

Outside the tent, someone snorted in dissatisfaction, and the sound of his boots stomping heavily into the muddy water immediately reached inside the tent and grew farther and farther away.

Winters breathed a sigh of relief.

Unexpectedly, just as Winters was considering whether to go find a helmet first and then see the lion cub, the footsteps that had been moving away suddenly turned back quickly.

The next second, the little lion shoved open the curtain and burst into the side tent, shouting angrily:

"What? Herstace! Are you hiding a woman in your tent or something? Why is it so troublesome to see you?"

Before he could finish speaking, the little lion had already seen the bruises on Winters' face.

The little lion paused for half a second, then pointed at Winters' face and burst into unrestrained laughter.

He laughed so hard he was doubled over, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, he was practically rolling on the ground.

Pierre, who had been tricked by the little lion, also chased after them into the side tent.

Pierre first saluted the Blood Wolf quickly, then grabbed the lion cub's sleeve and shoulder, forcibly dragging the latter away.

His anger was barely contained: "Lord Yahatchee! This way—please!"

Winters waved to Pierre.

Having received the new instructions, Pierre reluctantly released the lion cub. He gritted his teeth, saluted the blood wolf again, and turned to leave.

“Pierre, you stay.” Winters called to Pierre, then rested his chin on his hand and looked at the person who was laughing uncontrollably, patiently waiting for the other person to finish laughing before calmly saying:

"Scars are a warrior's medals, little lion, never forget that."

The little lion wiped his drool with lingering delight and asked with feigned surprise, "Then, Herstius, which valiant warrior bestowed such a large medal upon you?"

"What?" Winters asked casually. "Want to send a medal back for me?"

"Of course not, I just wanted to offer that warrior a drink." The little lion smiled slyly: "After all, I'm not my sister, I wouldn't feel sorry for you."

Winters went silent instantly.

The atmosphere inside the tent became somewhat awkward.

“Why are you still standing? Find a place to sit—oh, there’s nowhere to sit.” Winters suddenly realized and instructed Pierre, “Bring two stools.”

Pierre saluted and quickly left the side tent.

Only Winters and the little lion remained in the tent for the time being, with the latter looking like he was waiting to be asked a question.

"How are your older brother and sister?" Winters asked shamelessly.

The little lion feigned confusion: "Brother or sister?"

“Brother and sister.” Winters spoke sparingly.

The little lion deliberately beat around the bush, dragging out the last syllable of his answer: "Everything is fine."

“That’s good.” Winters smiled, then suddenly asked meaningfully, “And what about you?”

"Me?" The little lion was taken aback, now looking confused. "What's wrong with me? I'm right in front of you, aren't I fine?"

“White Lion’s only younger brother, the sole heir of the Red River tribe, instead of staying at the old camp to guard the hearth, he comes here every few days—that is, to the territory of the Parat people.” Winters carefully examined the little lion: “How could I not ask if you are alright?”

The little lion held on for a while, but eventually gave up.

He walked to the cot, nudged Winters to make room for him, and then casually sat down next to him.

"Don't worry, my coming here only pleases some people," the little lion said nonchalantly, stretching out his legs and picking at the straw stalks from his trousers.
"In the Chihe tribe, some of those people are hoping that my brother's son will be able to draw his bow soon, and that I will disappear quickly. They are happy that I am not in the old camp."

“You held an extremely prominent position in the Red River Tribe, yet you were a newcomer. Some people's status declined because of your return. It's normal for them to be resistant to you.” Winters frowned slightly. “The key is your brother. What is your brother thinking?”

The little lion remained silent for a long time, then a bitter smile appeared on his face: "I wanted to tell you that my brother would never have such thoughts, but... now... sigh, I don't know what he's thinking anymore." The image of the white lion appeared in Winters' mind. He silently talked to the white lion in his mind, but he couldn't get any credible results.

After all, even the little lion wasn't sure what the white lion was thinking, so how could an outsider know?

Winters could only comfort the little lion: "You don't need to think too much. On the Great Wilderness, you can never have too many blood relatives."

The little lion grunted in agreement.

Winters pondered for a moment, then asked, "And what about you? What are your thoughts?"

"Me?" The little lion frowned upon hearing this. He pondered for a while, then leaned back and lay diagonally on the cot, leaving Winters with only a small space to sit.

The little lion looked up at the sky through the skylight, chuckled a few times, and said, "Would you believe me if I said I don't want anything?"

"I believe you," Winters replied casually.

"Thank you, but..." the little lion sighed again, and murmured, "Actually, it's not that I don't want anything."

"When I was on the island, what I wanted most was to go home, back to the grasslands, back to my brother's side."

"Now I have what I wanted, but I find that I'm starting to miss the world beyond the wasteland."

"Of course, I don't want to go back to the island to be a slave. I want a ship, the kind of big ship that my sister and I used to take back to the grasslands."

"I want a ship like that, and then I can go anywhere I want to go."

"Horses, cattle, sheep, felt tents, pastures, servants... I don't want these things, so it's funny to see those people guarding against me, hiding things from me, and being hostile towards me."

"However, they won't understand what I want. So I can only tell you these things."

“Actually,” Winters turned and patted the little lion on the shoulder, “I’ve had the same thought as you. But maybe it’s because ships aren’t new to me, so I wanted a horse to ride and go to places no one has ever been before.”

"Oh?" The little lion became interested and sat up abruptly.

But he only sat up for a moment before lying back down, muttering to himself, "Yes, you're probably going to say that you no longer have such ridiculous, naive, and stupid thoughts."

“No,” Winters said calmly. “I still think how wonderful it would be if I could explore the frontiers of the world with Great Luck.”

Silence fell over the side tent as the two men sat quietly on their cots, each lost in their own thoughts.

The silence was broken by approaching footsteps, and Pierre's voice came from outside the tent: "Your Excellency, I have brought the stool."

"Enter!"

Pierre lifted the curtain and came in, carrying a small stool in his left hand.

"Why did you only take one?" Winters raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll just stand and listen,” Pierre replied.

Winters gave an unyielding order: "Go and get another one."

Pierre received orders to put down his stool and leave the tent again.

Winters rose swiftly, roused himself, and flicked his wrist to light the oil lamp inside the tent.

“Let’s get down to business.” Winters looked directly at the little lion: “Lord Yahatch.”

The little lion sat up, patted his cheeks, and perked up: "That's right, forget about all those bullshit dreams, let's get down to business."

“I’ve already seen the manifest,” Winters said expressionlessly. “Your appetite is certainly large.”

The little lion chuckled and shrugged: "It takes so much time and effort to travel back and forth, so I definitely need to bring more things."

"Unfortunately, but I must also tell you honestly, I don't have that much stock to exchange with you."

"We already know about this without you telling us," the little lion said with a smile.

“Then, may I ask…” Winters’s gaze grew sharper, “What does the White Lion want us to pay with?”

[因为出差的缘故，从2024年5月8日到2024年5月11日暂停更新]
[Updates resumed on May 12, 2024]
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