Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 538 Future Prospects (The End)
“Actually, I think missing this ‘opportunity’ might be a good thing,” Mason said sheepishly. “I’m already overwhelmed by just one new settlement; I don’t even want to think about having another Kings’ Castle.”

“You’re too modest,” Winters joked. “Senior, I have confidence in you.”

Mason snorted angrily, "You'd better not have too much faith in me, I'm begging you."

“It’s a pity we couldn’t take Kings’ Castle while we were ahead of the battle.” Winters still felt some regret for missing the opportunity, but he changed the subject and said in a deep voice, “However, I completely agree with your opinion.”

"If we immediately march to Kingsburg after the Battle of River Valley, we will have to fight Colonel Gaisa and his men first. Without fighting, we will have no way to secure our rear."

"Even if we kill our former comrades and are lucky enough to capture Kings' Castle, a lonely city, what use would it be to us?"

Winters joked, "By then, I probably won't even be able to avoid becoming Veneta's agent."

“You’re overthinking it,” Andrei scoffed, slamming down his cutlery. “We’re Venetas, we always have been, and we always will be. We can’t change that! If you ask me, who the hell cares what others think? Anyone who disagrees, let them come and talk to us with their sabers!”

“The Venetians and Venetians’ agents are not the same,” Winters emphasized calmly.

"In some people's eyes, this is the same thing."

"But we can't treat them as the same thing."

As a member of the United Province, Mason really didn't want to discuss what a Venetian agent was with the two Venetians, so he tried his best to steer the conversation back on track.

“That’s enough, you’re all right… Where were we again?” Mason rubbed his forehead and clapped his hands. “Right, we were talking about Lieutenant Colonel Matthias’s plan.”

Mason said seriously, "I believe that Lieutenant Colonel Matthias's plan is more feasible than Colonel Geza's idea of ​​taking Kingsburg directly."

Mason gestured with his finger on the dining table: "From a military perspective, the Northern Foothills Province is far from Zhuwangbao and Jinliu River, but very close to the newly reclaimed land. This is advantageous for our supplies, but inconvenient for the enemy's support."

"If, I mean if, the United Provinces decide to send troops to the Northern Foothills Province."

"So, by taking the land route, they would have to maintain a long and fragile supply line."

“Although both the Bian River and the Devina River are navigable by water, the west bank of the Bian River is in our hands, while the east bank of the Devina River belongs to Veneta—making it more difficult to travel than by land.”

"Therefore, in theory, the Northern Foothills Province is a more feasible target than Zhuwangbao."

“But that’s only ‘theoretically’,” Mason said hesitantly. “I wouldn’t dare say that the series of mountain cities in the Northern Province are really easier to attack than the Fortress of Kings.”

"Mountain City? What does that mean?"

“That’s a long story,” Mason explained as succinctly as possible. “In the past, whenever the Hed barbarians launched a major invasion, the Paratu settlements in the plains would suffer. The surviving Paratu would either hide in the water fortresses along the Jinliu River or flee south or north into the mountains, building fortresses in strategic locations and making a living by cultivating small plots of land in the valleys. Once the Heds retreated, they would return to the plains and rebuild their settlements until the next invasion.”

“Yuanhua Fortress, Biancheng Fortress, and the string of large and small mountain towns and stone fortresses in Beilu Province all came about in this way. However, Yuanhua Fortress and Biancheng Fortress were rebuilt on abandoned sites, while Beilu Province has held on to this day.”

“So,” Mason concluded, “it’s really hard to say whether it’s easier to attack a lone fortress of kings or the string of mountain cities in the Northern Foothills Province.”

Winters nodded slightly and asked jokingly, "Senior, you wouldn't be suggesting we 'go straight for the center line,' would you?"

“From a technical standpoint,” Mason replied seriously, “the plains in the middle of South Paratú are indeed easier to fight.”

"So, Lieutenant Colonel Matthias's attempt to crack the 'Veneta Corridor' is also a tough nut to crack? Just the softer one of two tough nuts to crack?"

“Well…” Mason clicked his tongue, “it’s a bit complicated to explain.”

"You say."

“I’m not sure about that,” Mason said, trying to find an excuse, before adding somewhat hesitantly, “As far as I can tell, Lieutenant Colonel Matthias isn’t worried about the war. The Bianjiang County isn’t making any preparations for an attack. He hasn’t even asked me about the artillery we have.”

Mason hesitated and said, "I think... what Colonel Geza wants is our military support; while what Lieutenant Colonel Matthias wants is our political support."

Winters asked encouragingly, "You mean Lieutenant Colonel Matthias is capable of taking the Veneta Corridor 'easily'?"

“I guess… that’s it,” Mason said, his expression not very confident. He gave a conclusion one second and then pushed the responsibility of the decision to his junior the next. “So the judgment still has to be made by you. However, from a military point of view, I think the ‘Veneta Corridor’ is a better direction for attack.”

"'From a military perspective'?" Winters nodded slightly, sensing the implication in his senior's words, and asked with a smile, "Are there other perspectives?"

"Of course!" Mason exclaimed anxiously as soon as he mentioned it. "You've already forgotten? Wool! Wool! Wool!"

Mason's face flushed red, his speech became faster and faster, and his emotions became more and more agitated, "Do you even know how much wool we have hoarded?"

One hundred and fourteen warehouses!
Do you even know how much wool we've sold?
Not a single bundle!
"And the wool keeps coming in—damn it! No matter how many warehouses I build, can they withstand your constant inflow and outflow?!"
"And don't forget, the ironware, tobacco, and cloth you traded with the Hurds for wool, even if they're all on the books now, one day you'll have to settle the accounts with them!"
"There's also the rent that was promised to the major estate owners in Tiefeng County, which has been delayed indefinitely. Although they are increasingly hesitant to ask you for it, it doesn't mean they've really forgotten about it!"
“These profits and losses, liabilities, and debts on the books will all eventually have to be realized,” Mason said, becoming increasingly desperate. “I don’t know what we’ll do when that day comes.”

Poor Mason, because he was more sensitive to numbers and more obsessed with equations than others, he suffered the most psychological pressure.

“Tell me!” Mason asked Winters, his voice filled with anguish. “What will we do on that day?”

Andrei, who was standing to the side, snorted coldly and suddenly interjected, "Then guess, senior, why hasn't anyone come to us for our debts yet?"

Mason felt a wave of suffocation; he clutched his chest, speechless for a long time.

"Don't worry, senior, have some water first." Winters quickly poured his senior a glass of water, stood up and placed it beside him, thoughtfully reassuring him, "I don't think... it's a big problem."

Mason spat out the half-glass of water he had just drunk, and the anxiety he had finally managed to calm back surged into his chest. "Not big enough? Do you even know how much money we owe?"

“I don’t know,” Winters replied honestly, wiping his face. But he added with a smile, “Ana and Bard have always managed these things, and they’ve never told me there’s a problem, so I think—it’s not a big deal.”

Mason was speechless.

After a moment of silence, the artillery officer, who came from a small merchant family in the United Province and valued thrift and careful budgeting, sighed deeply and waved his hand helplessly.

“Whatever,” Mason gave up thinking, but he quickly became impatient again. “But no matter what, you have to figure out how to get rid of the wool. Burn it, throw it away, give it away, whatever you want, just don’t make me build another warehouse!”

Upon hearing this, Winters suddenly felt a little embarrassed. "I forgot to tell you, senior, the Red River tribe has brought in another batch of wool, uh, and sheepskins. The quantity... is more than all the previous shipments combined." Mason stood up numbly. "Alright, I'll go find Lieutenant Colonel Matthias now, and we'll set out for the Northern Foothills Province tomorrow."

“Wait a minute,” Winters said with a smile, pulling his senior aside. “Although Lieutenant Colonel Matthias’s plan is more feasible from a military and economic perspective… we can no longer consider only military and economic aspects.”

“What else needs to be considered?” Mason asked.

Winters answered succinctly: "Politics."

He then explained, “Lieutenant Colonel Matthias contacted us privately, but what he wanted was our public support for him. In other words, he wanted the two votes we had to defeat Colonel Gaiza.”

Winters paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "But I don't want to push things to the point of a public vote unless absolutely necessary, because it would be bad for unity."

Andrei chuckled.

Mason glared at Andrei and asked, puzzled, "But isn't that how the voting system works?"

“That’s true, but that’s a last resort,” Winters said, sharing his thoughts without reservation. “If it really comes down to a public vote to subdue Colonel Gaza, it means the conflict is irreconcilable.”

"Lieutenant Colonel Matthias hopes to open up the Veneta Corridor first, but we need the Supreme Council to accept the newly reclaimed land."

"If we support Lieutenant Colonel Matthias in the direction of troop deployment, then we can only seek Lieutenant Colonel Matthias's support in matters concerning newly reclaimed lands."

"This means that in the first two important decisions of the Supreme Council, White Mountain County was suppressed twice by us and Lieutenant Colonel Matthias."

“If we were truly ‘one’ army, it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but the reality is we aren’t; we don’t have that strong bond yet.”

“I am worried that this will lead us to grow closer to Lieutenant Colonel Matthias in the future, while White Mountain County will gradually be isolated.”

“I worry that this will sow the seeds of division.”

“Therefore,” Winters said, his eyes as cold as agate and as deep as a pool, “I don’t want to drag things out to a public vote unless absolutely necessary. If we really have to resort to a public vote to resolve our differences, it means we’ve failed.”

Mason was already dizzy from listening. "It's too complicated... Never mind, you decide."

“I don’t like politics either,” Winters said, recalling the voice and smile of an old monk, as if making a firm decision, “but we absolutely cannot underestimate politics. Now that we’ve joined this game, we have to play it, and play it smartly, and win!”

Amidst the rich aroma, Bud walked into the restaurant carrying yet another pot of stew. "Hey, what are you guys talking about? The atmosphere is so serious?"

“We were talking about why we didn’t just have a proper fight,” Andrei put down his cutlery and let out a burp. “It’s made it hard to do anything today.”

"Why are you eating ahead of time?" Bard looked at Andre reproachfully, slammed the stew pot down in the middle of the table, and chuckled as he scooped up a smoked fish. "You didn't even call me."

Bud sat down opposite Andrei, reaching out to retrieve a piece of bread. "So, what conclusions have you reached?"

"What's there to discuss?" Andrei snorted. "We've already missed that opportunity, and we can't afford to start another fight now, can we? I'm just not going to lower myself to that level."

“If we had actually chosen to ‘fight in armor’ back then,” Bard said with a grin as he cut bread, “we would probably still be suppressing the garrison troops in the counties, and wouldn’t have the leisure to sit here and enjoy a delicious trout.”

"Now that we've integrated the newly reclaimed land legions without shedding blood, we definitely have to pay a price. We can't expect to reap all the benefits..."

“Hey, don’t lecture me,” Andrei waved his hand impatiently. “I’m not swearing. What? Can’t I even complain a little?”

Despite being retorted by Andrei, Bad wasn't annoyed at all. He simply shrugged and focused on enjoying his fish.

The restaurant became quiet for a moment.

Winters put his hand on Andrei's shoulder and patted him gently.

“Okay, okay,” Andrei said, deflated like a punctured wine sack, reluctantly raising his hand to apologize to Bad. “I was too harsh just now… Sigh, I just feel so frustrated, it’s pointless, not enjoyable at all…”

“Me too,” Winters looked at Andrei with tolerance. “Believe me, Andrei, me too.”

Andrei didn't speak, he just nodded.

“Alright, I’ll go call Anna, Scarlett, Charles, and Heinrich,” Winters stood up. “Tell them to stop what they’re doing and come eat. I’m starving…”

“Hearing someone who only set out the plates say this,” Bard, who had been busy in the kitchen, looked at the crooked plates on the table and said with a smile, “is really making me feel complicated.”

“The capable should do more,” Winters laughed as he walked toward the restaurant door.

“To be honest, I think that despite the bald guy’s loud voice,” Andrei suddenly said in a deep voice, “they’re not actually that resistant to the issue of newly reclaimed land—it’s not hard to talk about.”

"Huh?" Winters didn't react for a moment.

Bard also looked puzzled.

Only Mason paused for a moment, then asked suspiciously, "Weren't you dozing off the whole time during the meeting?"

“Under those circumstances, you can’t reach an agreement on anything,” Andrei’s temper flared up again. “If I don’t sleep, what am I supposed to do?”

Winters gestured for the group to calm down, then returned to Andrei's side and asked earnestly, "Why do you think the matter of the newly reclaimed land is easy to discuss?"

Andrei sneered: "Of course it's because they want to talk."
-
At the same time that Montagne was enjoying a lively dinner, hundreds of kilometers away on the Ember River, a large ship was slowly approaching the riverbank.

Inside the cabin, Jason Cornelius sat quietly in the darkness, an old sword lying across his lap.

Fritz of Nice pushed open the hatch and went into the cabin.

"General," Fritz stood at attention and saluted, "Kingsburg is just ahead."

[...Because the agricultural tools used by the early Platonic settlers were too inefficient to handle the thick clay soil and the deep-rooted weeds, their plows could not turn the sod over to its depths, so the weeds would quickly grow back the following spring and kill the budding grains...]
[...In contrast to grasslands, deciduous woodlands are easier to cultivate with simple tools. A stone axe can be used to ring-cut the bark, killing the tree and allowing sunlight to reach the ground. Grains can be sown in the soft soil between the trees, and one can patiently wait for the harvest. After several years of cultivation, the dead trees can be burned, and the soil can be revitalized...]
[...However, the primeval forests were not inexhaustible. The early Platonic settlers, who practiced slash-and-burn agriculture, would move to a different plot of land every few years. When they could no longer find suitable forests, they had to return to the fields they had abandoned. With each periodic re-cultivation, the forests gradually degraded, and the old tree stumps rotted away. The plow repeatedly struck the surface, and the unevenness of the land disappeared. Eventually, the places covered by forests for thousands of years developed into the neat, flat grain fields of the Platonic people...]
[...As for the truly large-scale development of grasslands, that will have to wait until the Monte Carlo plow becomes widespread...]
—Palatu: The Steppe Frontier [by Bai Ruisi] [Vineta People's Publishing House]
(The original work is "Eastern Europe, Steppe Frontier" by William McNeill)