《Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters》


 Chapter 1 The Last Swordsmanship Competition

    Empire Year 557 [26 years after Richard IV withdrew his troops]


    The Federated Provinces Republic [formerly known as the Republic before the Mountains]


    Guidao City


    It was a midsummer afternoon, with not a cloud in the sky. The scorching sun turned the entire city into a steaming cage, draining all living beings of their vitality. Even the annoying cicadas had ceased their chatter.


    "Just a bit longer and victory will be ours," Winters told himself. He was in the third year at the Army Officers'' Academy, biting his lips and desperately trying to resist the urge to breathe through his mouth.


    [Winters Montagne]


    He tried his best to maintain abdominal breathing, consciously controlling the rhythm, ensuring each breath was as prolonged as possible. Air, heated by his body temperature, streamed out from his nostrils and hit the inner wall of the full-coverage helmet, bringing back a fetid whiff of sweat when it bounced back.


    In the current temperature, it should be time for a bath and some rxation under the shade. Yet, in this oppressive heat that could make one sweat just by sitting still, Winters waspletely wrapped up.


    He was wearing an entire set of cotton martial attire close to his body, over which he donned a set of training armor. The armor he was using was cavalry armor stripped from the bodies of nobility over thirty years ago during the Sovereign War.


    The Army Department hoped to save as much as possible on teaching expenses, so the cadets had no choice but to use these second-hand goods.


    The armor Winters was using, of course, wasn''t the high-ranking nobles'' armors ¡ª the ornate, luxurious pieces were taken home by generals as decorations. Instead, the cadets used the armor of knights who had actually fought on the frontlines,


    These lower-ranking nobles had sold their ancestral properties for warhorses and armor, carrying thences and treasured swords passed down in their families and following their liege lords to Fortnd in the hope of fortune, believing their enemies to be nothing more than traders, farmers, and craftsmen.


    But in the end, it was the traders, farmers, and craftsmen who had thestugh, leaving the knights buried in foreignnds. Nobody remembered who they were, leaving only suit after suit of armor, pocked with bullet holes and scratches, as evidence that they once existed.


    These armors were modest in appearance, without much adornment, but were constructed of sturdy materials, for they were a matter of life and death for their wearers. The Army Ordnance Department removed all theponents below the armor skirt and repurposed them as brand new leg armors, which were then redistributed to the Cavalry Division.


    They then took a batch of left shoulder armors from other captured armors and reced the original right shoulder armors of these ones ¡ª because these armors had a gap under the right armpit to facilitate handling thence, and the Ordnance Department did not want to go to the trouble of forging a new set of right shoulder armors. "After all, shoulder armors don''t differentiate between front and back, right?"


    Later on, the Ordnance Department registered this batch of second-hand assembled goods as "new premium three-quarter armors" and sent them to the Army Officers'' Academy for the cadets'' use, and many armors with bullet hole damage were not even repaired.


    However, a few bullet holes weren''t a significant issue, as the cadets wouldn''t be wearing this armor on the battlefield. What tormented the cadets wasn''t these bullet holes, nor the weight of the armors, but the excellent heat conductivity of the iron armor.


    In the winter, it rapidly stole away your body heat, while in the summer, it efficiently transferred the external heat to the inside of the armor.


    Right now, Winters was soaked as if he had just taken a bath, the cotton martial garments beneath his iron armor drenched in sweat and clinging to his back. Sweat trickled down his forehead, asionally getting into his eyes, stinging them painfully. With his helmet on, he could not rub his eyes and had to endure the difort.


    Every time he donned the training armor, older than himself, during summer, Winters sincerely thanked the Ordnance Department for not patching up the holes, as at least that allowed for slightly better venttion.


    In fact, during swordsmanship lessons, armors with more holes were always in high demand among the cadets. The officer responsible for handling these armors twenty years ago probably never imagined that hisziness could turn out to be a blessing in disguise.


    These armors had been continuously used from the day the Army Officers'' Academy was established till today, over twenty years, and they would continue to torment Winters'' juniors far into the foreseeable future.


    But at the moment, Winters had no spare concern to pity his juniors. What he yearned for was to strip off this encumbrance and sit on a stone bench at the side of the field, drinking cool water.


    After more than thirty rounds of sparring, all he felt was that the muscles around his shoulders were zing hot, like red-hot iron, and as rigid as a rusty door hinge that hadn''t been oiled for decades.


    Winters'' upper arm muscles were involuntarily causing his entire arm to tremble, and his hands were almost unable to hold onto the hilt of his sword ¡ª that''s right, this sword in his hands was exactly the reason why he had to wear a full set of iron armor in the zing summer heat.


    Just as dogs all originated from wolves and are ssified in biology as a subspecies of domestic dogs, with such morphological variations that one might question, "Are they really capable of interbreeding?" so too has the sword seen a simrly vast divergence.


    Over the millennia, in conjunction with changes in tactics, techniques, and metallurgy, the category of swords has branched out into hundreds of thousands of distinct subspecies, all varied in shape. The sword that Winters held was one of the younger breeds, mentioned in thest few pages of the family tree, so to speak.


    This sword had a total length of 1.3 meters, which can be described another way: for an adult human male standing 1.8 meters tall, when he rests the sword tip on the ground, the pommel at the bnce end of the sword is about four fingers below his armpit.

 Chapter 2: Chapter 1: The Last Swordsmanship Competition_2

    The de of the sword was 95 centimeters long, with no fuller. Besides its length, another distinctive feature of this sword was the club-like crossguard perpendicr to the de. This crossguard was muchrger than those on ordinary swords, almost as long as the forearm of an adult male. This oversized crossguard was the soul of the weapon, essential for executing many techniques.


    Despite its length, the sword was surprisingly light. The one Winters was using weighed only 1.4 kilograms, which is about the weight of a few potatoes.


    Praise be to the advancements in metalworking that allowed smiths to forge such a light yet tough and resilient de.


    The sword had a long hilt, requiring two hands to wield effectively. However, it wasn''t categorized as a "two-handed sword", since that term had already been imed by other predecessors. Although it could be managed in one hand, it certainly wasn''t deserving of being adopted by the "hand-and-a-half sword" family.


    Most of the time, the cadets simply called it "the sword". If they needed to distinguish it from other types of swords in conversation, they referred to it as "the sword we practice with"; or simply "Longsword", since it was longer than the average sword.


    Do not underestimate those 1.4 kilograms. A forceful swing, even of only 1.4 kilograms, could easily crush a skull or slice open an unarmored enemy. This was why Winters would train in half a set of Cavalry armor even under the risk of heatstroke in the scorching summer days.


    Winters, and his opponents, wielded blunt Longswords¡ªall genuine articles, despite their blunted edges.


    Winters felt nearly boiled by his own sweat; he just wanted to quickly win the duel, to beat the opponent he hadn''t defeated in six years. And this was his closest chance at victory yet.


    Peering through the visor grid of his helmet, Winters nced at the scoreboard on the sidelines, his score at 17, his opponent''s at 12. He had never led his adversary by as many as five points before.


    The rule for swordsmanship practice in the Military Academy was first to 20 points wins, and Winters now held match point. He kept reminding himself, "Stay calm, stay calm, just three more points."


    His mind raced with thoughts, "I''m at match point. He has to attack to catch up. I can wait for a slip-up." With his strategy set, Winters entered the dueling area from the waiting zone.


    He tentatively stepped out half a step with his right foot, grounded himself in a stable T-stance, keeping his back straight. His right hand in front and left hand behind gripped the Longsword hilt, both hands lowering to belly-button height, with the sword''s tip angled upward toward his opponent''s throat.


    The swordsmanship Winters and his ssmates learned in ss originated from the founding marshal Ned Smith. One of the crucial elements of this swordsmanship was "the guard." The guard Winters employed was called "the Plough", suited for both offense and defense, and he favored keeping both his dominant hand and leg forward.


    He knew his strength was at its limit, and his stiff posture must have appeared ludicrous to the onlooking ssmates. But he didn''t care about losing face; he consoled himself, "It''s apetition to see who''s less awful. He''s tired too. Winning is what matters."


    Time always seems to pass quicker in the mind. Though he thought of a multitude of things, only a few seconds had actually gone by in the real world. Winters'' opponent was approaching him in a posture simr to Winters''. As expected, holding match point, the opponent opted for a more aggressive and proactive approach, since a single sneak attack from Winters could end the match.


    Winters'' opponent also aimed his Longsword''s tip at his head but took broad steps around to Winters'' right side, trying to gain a nk position. Naturally, Winters was not about to let him seed, adjusting his footwork ordingly.


    They circled each other for a few steps, closing in the distance, their Longsword tips starting to sh. Winters now didn''t dare to blink; when both using the Plough and their sword tips met, it meant they were both within striking range of the other.


    Winters'' opponent boldly controlled the sh of their Longswords with confidence, as if to provoke him. The des chimed with a clear clink, these minor shes not granting any advantage but serving as an effective psychological tactic, putting the opponent under pressure with such an assertive attitude.


    Winters didn''t realize that by deciding to y defensively, his own momentum had already diminished. What he saw as a solid and sensible choice was, in reality, an external show of hisck of confidence.


    Because Winters was acutely aware that his opponent had stronger physical capabilities than himself. He couldn''t figure out how he managed to be five points ahead, so he decided to y it safe. Had his opponent been ahead by five points, the onught would have been swift and fierce.


    Seeing Winters firmly defending the centerline, his opponent began to adjust the direction of the attack. Using a counterbnce as a pivot, the opponent turned the Longsword''s tip, originally aimed at Winters'' right side, towards the left.


    Winters immediately perceived his opponent''s intent to attack. His opponent was a "strong-king", often relying on sheer physical strength to knock the opponent''s Longsword off the centerline.


    Then his opponent would quickly step forward, catch the enemy''s de with the crossguard, and deliver a thrust from above straight toward the chest¡ªa signature move of his.


    Winters instinctively reacted, seeing his opponent''s de shift to his right side, he too altered his posture, swinging preemptively to the right. It was going to be a head-on collision, where the advantage in the ensuing bind could lead to a point.

 Chapter 3: Chapter 1: The Last Swordsmanship Competition_3

    ```


    But his opponent''s sword tip drew a circle in the air and returned to its original position, revealing it was all a feint. Winters felt a chill in his chest as a single thought shed through his mind, "Not good!"


    There was never a "battle of three hundred rounds".


    In unarmored swordsmanship, a single move could determine the victor.


    If you fell for a feint, it was all over.


    Although Winters''s brain had ceased to function, his swordsmanship instincts remained. Instinct took over thought, and he switched his swing from right to left, trying to readjust his position.


    But it was toote, his opponentunched an attack from Winters''s left side. Instead of aiming for Winters''s torso, he first struck Winters''s weaker sword with his stronger one, knocking Winters''s longsword out of position. At the same time, he exploded forward with a powerful thrust from his spring-like left leg, and his right foot took arge step forward.


    The longsword in his hand quickly circled back to the high guard and initiated a fierce overhead chop. The de traced an arc of light through the air, the speed of the swing generating a whistling sound, as his longsword this time aimed straight for Winters''s neck.


    Without the slightest hint of mercy, the sword hit squarely on the neck armor at Winters''s left vicle, the whistle sounded! Winters''s opponent did not cken in the slightest as he rapidly pulled back his longsword and took a horizontal sword position to seal off any possible counter from Winters, leaving no chance for a "post-strike".


    Post-strike, a situation recognized by the military academy where both sides perish together. Should this ur, it is regarded as mutual destruction, with neither side scoring. Winters''s opponent would certainly not leave such an opportunity to Winters.


    But Winters''s opponent was actually overthinking it, for after taking such a powerful "bolt from the blue", it was almost impossible for Winters to counterattack, he was already in so much pain he was close to choking.


    Although his neck and chest armor distributed that force across his entire torso, the spot where he was hit on his vicle still hurt as if a door had mmed hard on his toe.


    The intense pain paralyzed Winters''s body, and for a moment he could hardly move. His central nervous system responded to this severe stimulus by rapidly releasing arge amount of adrenaline and endorphins within his body.


    So, after the brief but intense pain, Winters felt a bit of relief. Enduring the pain, he pointed to his left neck armor, indicating where he was hit. The chief referee did not hesitate to dere "3 points", and the scorer changed the score to 17:15.


    A round of apuse broke out in the training room, not as a mockery of Winters, but as a tradition of the military academy, where everyone ps for a beautiful fight.


    In fact, even Winters wanted to apud his opponent''s attack. It was simply too beautiful: a simple and effective feint, a clean and sharp chop, and a wless recovery. The entire sequence was just too cool for words.


    Although this round was described with nine hundred characters, in reality, from the moment their sword tips collided to Winters being struck, it took less than two seconds.


    Victory was decided in a single breath; many ssmates watching from the sidelines didn''t even see what happened, only seeing Winters taking a hard hit, staggering as he got smashed.


    Beyond the pain, Winters''s mind was filled with frustration, his face burned with shame because he had fallen for a feint.


    Marshal Ned''s swordsmanship theory emphasized the initiative, encouraging simple and direct attacks, praising aggressive tactics to suppress the opponent, opposing shy but impractical moves, and criticizing any unnecessary feints.


    Because this swordsmanship theory believed that apetent swordsman should never be easily deceived by feints, and when facing a skilled swordsman, using feints randomly was like giving the opponent a free opportunity to strike. For Winters, falling for a feint seemed more humiliating than standing still and taking a beating.


    "Are you okay? Want to take a break before continuing?" Winters''s opponent didn''t return to the corner of the fighting area in the waiting zone and, seeing Winters was in quite a bit of pain, he inquired with concern. His voice sounded muffled as it passed from one helmet into another.


    Winters was now past the most painful stage; he tentatively moved his shoulder a few times to ensure there was no bone damage.


    Thus, the fiery and aggressive nature of a young man overcame the pain; although he now felt like sitting at the side to rest, he simply couldn''t surrender his adult male pride. He moved his shoulder and said through gritted teeth, "I''m fine, let''s continue".


    "Maybe we should let them go first and then we''ll continue afterwards." His opponent was still not reassured.


    Winters was even less likely to agree to that, and repeated, "I''m fine, let''s continue." After that, Winters walked back to the waiting area.


    His opponent sighed and returned to his own corner.


    The whistle sounded once more, signaling the beginning of a new round, as the two once again approached the center of the area. Winters was now fueled by frustration. All he could think was to p his thirty seconds younger self twice hard across the face; being defensive meant being passive, being passive meant falling for feints, and after falling for a feint to be brutally hit, it was too embarrassing. He must attack! Attack! Attack! Just aim for the head with a thrust, and it''s a win.


    Thus, in this round, as soon as they crossed swords, Wintersunched a sneak attack. He started with a wide-step high thrust aiming straight for his opponent''s face. This thrusting technique consisted of raising the sword high after the engagement, using the guard to block the enemy''s line of attack, while threatening the opponent''s head.

 Chapter 4: Chapter 1: The Last Swordsmanship Competition_4

    Well, I''ll be damned, the surprise salted fish thrust actually startled Winters'' opponent, leaving him momentarily unable to wrap his head around the sudden change in tactics: "Howe this guy, who was so stable in thest round, has suddenly be reckless?"


    But the instinctive reflexes of a top fencer overcame the panic brought on by the salted fish thrust. As Winters stepped forward, his opponent deftly retreated one step and quickly positioned his stronger de against the tip of Winters'' sword, pressing it down with force. He twisted his longsword to block any potential shes from Winters, keeping his point aimed at Winters'' abdomen. The next moment, Winters crashed into it.


    The whistle blew! Another impressive disy, this roundsting less than two seconds, Winters'' opponent easilynded a hit on Winters'' torso, scoring two points as scattered apuse once again filled the training room.


    Winters pointed at the spot on his practice armor where he was hit, impatiently running back to the waiting area. The score was now 17:17. The main referee and Winters'' opponent exchanged nces. The student serving as the referee shook his head helplessly; they could all tell that Winters'' mental state had crumbled.


    Still, thepetition had to go on. As both returned to their starting positions, Winters'' opponent began to seriously ponder a question, "Should I just throw the match this time and let him win?"


    Another round began, and this time when Winters entered the field, he adopted the "fury stance." The fury stance is a posture for umting energy, drawing the hilt up to the shoulder. Just as pulling back a fist allows for a more powerful punch, the same applies to swordsmanship. The fury stance delivers a powerful chop with a long reach, but the drawback is that the intention and direction of the attack are all too obvious.


    At this moment, one thought dominated Winters'' mind: "I definitely can''t match him in raw strength, but I have one more point to score, and my chance to win is tounch a surprise attack and take three points out of nowhere," this was the broken mindset Winters used to convince himself, and it did hold a sliver of reason.


    When everyone thinks someone has lost their mind, that person often has their own twisted logic to persuade themselves, and it might actually be quite convincing.


    There''s nothing wrong with the idea of a sneak attack, but what Winters was failing to realize now was: his intention to attack was so tant it couldn''t be ignored, and there was no possibility of scoring three points by surprise, so the so-called scoring tactic was just self-deception.


    But when Winters saw his opponent also adopting the fury stance the next second, he immediately recognized the intention: the fury stance was a posture they had both practiced when they first met at the military preparatory school, and they had always started with several routines of fury stance in their six years of swordsmanship sses.


    He could opt for a straight thrust to score three points, as thrusts are always faster than powerful chops. His friend and opponent obviously wanted him to win this time. But now Winters didn''t even want to win ¨C it''s not like he was mad. He realized that his attitude from before had been that of a sore loser.


    This was their final contest in swordsmanship ss, and perhaps theirst bout ever. After all, graduation meant epting the possibility that the friends who had been together day and night might never meet again. Winning or losing didn''t matter anymore, and Winters hade to terms with it.


    So this round, neither put on any tricks, and this time, Winters'' opponent used his superior strength to forcibly open the center line andnded a straight thrust, scoring a hit.


    It was an expected oue, and Winters consoled himself silently, "The guy is taller than you, stronger than you, and has practiced more than you. Wouldn''t it be against all reason if he didn''t win? Isn''t it normal to lose? Scoring 17 points is still something to brag about."


    After being struck, Winters walked towards his opponent, sword in hand. The whistle blew, and Winters suddenly realized something was amiss. It should have been 2 points, his opponent hadn''t aimed for the head ¨C the hit was to the chest. The score was now 17:19; his opponent needed one more point to end the match.


    Winters felt a surge of anger welling up in his throat, as he had intended to end the match with a gracious hug. Now he found himself facing another round, his level of embarrassmentparable to wailing at a funeral next door.


    Luckily, he hadn''t gone in for the hug yet, or he would have lost face. He felt like he had wasted all his emotion, just when he was in the right mindset ¨C continuing for another round would just ruin the mood.


    So Winters, muttering under his breath at a volume only he could hear, shouldered his longsword and trudged back to the waiting area. Another new round began, both starting with the fury stance.


    His opponent shed diagonally, Winters blocked with his de;


    His opponent withdrew his sword to change sides, Winters changed direction to block;


    His opponent withdrew his sword again to change sides, and Winters instinctively continued to block with his de.


    About a second passed in this lightning-fast exchange. Although Winters was fencing by instinct, he had begun to sense that something wasn''t quite right.


    Thus, when Winters realized that the distance between him and his opponent was rapidly closing, he fell into a state of great panic. He understood everything in an instant, swearing profusely, "You [nasty expletive]! You''re going to ¡­ [even nastier expletive] ¡­ "


    But it was toote, his personal attack didn''t quite get through to his opponent. All his adversary could hear was the indistinct wailsing from inside his helmet.


    Winters'' opponent switched to holding the sword with one hand, controlling Winters'' de, while his other hand grabbed Winters'' shoulder. With a trip at his feet, a simple leg sweepbined with a mountain-ttening move, Winters, along with his armor, was mmed hard to the ground and pinned beneath his opponent, evoking thunderous apuse from the training room.


    Yes, if it was a bout of swordsmanship, punching obviously couldn''t score points, wrestling even less so. But taking down the opponent and controlling them before inflicting damage with the sword, that''s valid! One point scored.


    Wrestling is part of swordsmanship, if you don''t like it, don''t y the game.


    The whistle blew, and the referee announced loudly, "Winner, Axel of Orange!"


    Lying on the ground, Winters had only one thought, "Not stabbing him with that sword just now, I really was a [expletive]."

 Chapter 5: Chapter 2 What Are Spellcasters?

    "You also want to y at wrestling? Are you still human?" Winters and Aike, having juste off the arena, were helping each other remove their training armor.


    Criticism with words was obviously no match for the critique of weapons; Winters was getting more and more worked up, so he threw a punch at Aike''s back. Aike was Axel''s nickname, and friends of Axel generally called him that.


    The fistnded on Aike with a dull thud. Aike didn''t feel much¡ªhe was still wearing his training armor, after all. It was Winters who ended up in tears from the pain.


    "You''re right. I''m not human. Hurry and help me get this encumbrance off. If I wear it any longer, it might actually kill someone," Aike said reluctantly, responding to Winters.


    The training armor they wore was essentially half of a full set of cavalry armor. It was impossible for one person to put on or take off the armor alone, so during swordsmanship ss, the sparring pairs would help each other don and doff their armor.


    This kind of insincere self-criticism made Winters even angrier. He punched Aike in the back again. This time, however, he was smarter and removed Aike''s armor first, causing Aike to let out a muffled grunt of pain.


    After they had taken off their training armor, they hastily stripped off their arming clothes for the upper body, which were as soaked as if they''d just been pulled out of water,pletely drenched.


    Swordfighters found summer duels particrly painful, and the cotton clothing had to bear as much me as the sun itself. The Senas Bay area, where Winters was currently located, had the sea as a natural heat reservoir, providing a warm climate.


    Therefore, in the Gulf Region, such cotton arming clothes could easily serve as winter clothing, but wearing them in the summer became torture.


    "How did those knights in the old times fight wars in the summer wearing stuff like this? They wore an additionalyer of chainmail atop this, didn''t they?" Aike said with a sigh as he continued to undress.


    "Just don''t fight wars in the summer, and it''s fine. If you must fight, well, the enemy has to wear the whole set too, so it''s a matter of who can endure it longer," Winters replied without much thought, tossing his clothing onto the ground.


    They ced their longswords and armor on the stone bench and, bare-chested, ran to the big water vat in the corner of the training room, where they began to guzzle the brackish water withdles.


    Where did this brackish watere from? The swordsmanship instructor had prepared a whole vat of it in advance, enough for all the students in the training room to drink their fill.


    People in this era didn''t understand ion bnce or water intoxication. But the instructors at the military academy already knew that drinking arge amount of in water after heavy sweating could be dangerous to life.


    This valuable insight had cost them two lives.


    The brackish water of swordsmanship ss embodied a profound yet simple truth: using a technology does not require understanding its deep underlying principles. Birds do not understand aerodynamics, yet they can fly.


    Unfortunately, Winters, now gulping down water beside the vat, was far from having any epiphany. His mind was fully upied with the recentpetition.


    After setting down theirdles, the two leisurely walked back to their stone bench where they kept their gear. In the square-shaped arena, the ringing clinks of longswords colliding paused and restarted as the duels continued, now with a different pair of swordfighters.


    Aike still seemed to remember the bearing and manner expected of an officer, while Winters sprawled carelessly on the ground without regard for appearance, finding the frosty touch of the stone floor particrlyforting.


    Once he rxed, however, the pain returned. Pain from his left shoulder reminded Winters that he had just lost eight points.


    Winters nced down at his left shoulder. Arge area around the shoulder was bruised blue by Aike''s heavy blow, with the contusion spreading to his corbone. Everywhere in his field of vision was discolored with bruising. One could imagine the ces he couldn''t see, like the shoulder socket, were in a simr state.


    "Look at this," Winters said, pointing to his shoulder. "I thought you had broken my bones just now. If I hadn''t been wearing armor, I reckon that strike of yours could have cleaved me in half."


    Seeing the bruising on Winters'' shoulder, Aike spoke apologetically, "Indeed, I didn''t control my strength well. In that situation, I should have pulled my blow. It also startled me when the strikended on you; I hadn''t expected it to be that solid."


    But did Winters truly me Aike in his heart? Of course not. He had no grievances against his friend, being well aware that bumps and bruises were normal in swordy. What was the purpose of wearing all that armor if there was no risk?


    Despite having safer training swords avable, the instructors insisted they used blunted real ones to spar, precisely for the asional small injuries it could cause.


    Deep down, Winters didn''t care about the blow from Aike at all. He didn''t even realize that his relentless chattering was because he was nervous, subconsciously seeking topics to cover the question he was about to ask.


    To ask directly was something he couldn''t do. He would feel shame, fear the awkwardness, and worry that he wouldn''t hear the truth.


    Let a group of boys live together day in and day out, and being tenderhearted gets ridiculed. Everyone tries to present themselves as tough guys who don''t care about anything. Winters was no different.


    Winters'' Adam''s apple bobbed. He deliberately avoided making eye contact with Aike, pretending to focus on the duels happening in the arena, showing only the back of his head to Aike. He asked in the most nonchnt tone he could muster, "You, didn''t you just go easy on me in thosest few rounds?"

 Chapter 6: Chapter 2 What Are Spellcasters?_2

    ```


    Winters couldn''t see Aike''s expression, but he could make out from Aike''s tone that it was quite natural, "Not at all, I''ve never intentionally yed poorly or allowed myself to be hit by the sword on purpose. The rounds you had earlier were really good, very stable. When you got to match point, I truly felt I was going to lose. I got anxious, and I couldn''t control the strength in my sword properly. Otherwise, I wouldn''t have hit you so hard."


    Winters was now in great spirits, having confirmed that his lead over Aike was due to his own skills and not because Aike had let him win on purpose. At this thought, he suddenly felt regretful, as it also meant that he really had the chance to win the match, and it was his own finalpse that caused him to lose the advantage.


    However, no matter what he thought internally, he couldn''t show any weakness verbally. Winters chuckled and said, "Bullshit, I think you just nned it out, letting me get to match point before making a cooleback."


    Aikeughed out loud after hearing this.


    The swordsmen on the field had a round of exciting offense and defense, and Winters and Aike also pped their hands vigorously in admiration.


    "I think if you spent more time working out and practicing swordsmanship, you could have definitely won just now," Aike said seriously after looking at Winters''s less defined arms, then at his own more muscr ones.


    Aike began to speak frankly and reasonably, "Look, you don''t practice swordsmanship in your spare time, do you? You only practice during swordsmanship ss, not outside of it. And look, you don''t work out for strength either, do you? You haven''t lifted bells or pulled millstones, have you?"


    "Even so, you still scored seventeen points. You''re good enough, I think that''s pretty impressive," Aike concluded in the end.


    "Now I really don''t know if you are praising me or mocking me," Winters said with a wry smile after looking at Aike''s sturdy arms and chest muscles.


    "Of course I''m praising you," Aike picked up a longsword and swung it a couple of times while sitting on a stone bench, then said to Winters, "Think about it, swordsmanship essentially relies on on-the-spot judgment and your own strength. If you don''t deliberately train your strength and have underdeveloped muscles, you naturally are at a disadvantage when fencing. And since you don''t rigorously practice swordsmanship, then you..."


    "Stop talking, get up, I need to find something," Winters quickly interrupted Aike.


    "What do you need to find?" Aike asked, puzzled, as he stood up.


    "I need to find a crack in the ground to crawl into," said Winters.


    "I''m really praising you," Aike said sincerely.


    Truth hurts more than lies, and Winters couldn''t take it anymore so he quickly begged for mercy, "Please, no more, Master. I''m so ashamed right now I want to hang myself. When I get home, I promise I''ll train extra every day, stick to weightlifting, and develop muscles like yours."


    The "Master" Winters referred to was short for "Fencing Master." In the Alliance, this was not a title casually used in ttery among swordsmen, but an official one that required the certification of the smiths'' guild.


    Only those swordsmanship grandmasters whose theories were widely recognized and learned, who had a significant influence, would be certified as "Fencing Masters." To date, no living person had earned this honor; it was only bestowed posthumously.


    Aike had a profound mastery of longsword swordsmanship; during his preparatory school days, no one in his ss could match him. Back then, only adults could discipline Aike. When Aike was fully matured after puberty, he became unbeatable in all age groups.


    Everyone from the Military Academy, from instructors to students, had learned longsword in swordsmanship ss, but no one could score 20 points against Aike. Winters could say responsibly that the Military Academy was now no match for Aike''s depth, as Aike''s level was a notch above everyone there, making him the academy''s unacknowledged top swordsman.


    So, at some point, Aike acquired the nickname "Fencing Master" at school, which quickly shortened to "Master." Even the instructors jokingly called him "Master" in light-hearted moments.


    The most memorable incident happened when General Taylor of the Federated Provinces'' Republic''s Army visited the academy to inspect teaching conditions during Winters and Aike''s sophomore year. Upon realizing that the student in front of him was Axel, he blurted out, "Are you the ''Master''?" shocking all the students around him. From then on, the nickname became even more widely known.


    Although on one hand, the nickname "Master" was a recognition of Aike''s swordsmanship by the academy, it also carried an undertone of teasing because no living person had yet earned the title.


    It was a nickname with bothmendatory and derogatory connotations, and Aike himself seemed indifferent to it. He never imed to be a Fencing Master, but he didn''t mind when others called him so.


    However, as Aike''s good friend, unless they were teasing each other in jest, Winters was not willing to call Aike "Master," as he disliked the curse-like implications hidden in the word towards a friend.


    When Winters called him "Master," Aike also teased back, "As if you could develop those muscles. You don''t train at school, how would you suddenly be diligent at home? People im they''ll study furiously once home after not learning at school - do you believe that? And you''re talking about developing muscles? When youe back from Sea Blue next year, I bet you''ll have lost all your swordsmanship basics."


    ```

 Chapter 7: Chapter 2 What Are Spellcasters?_3

    Winters'' old face turned red as he brazenly said, "In my view, for a prospective officer who will one day take on the responsibility ofmanding on the battlefield, a wise mind is more important than well-developed muscles. That''s why ensuring sufficient sleep is my military duty."


    Immediately afterward, Winters began to reason with Aike, "Do the math again¡ªif I practice for a year and still can''t beat you, what then? Since I can''t beat you without practicing, and if I still can''t beat you after practicing, wouldn''t I be at a loss? Therefore, not practicing is like preserving my capital, and preserving my capital is like not suffering a loss."


    "Look, not practicing means no loss for sure, but practicing could lead to a big loss. Therefore, not practicing is akin to a big gain. I''m content with scoring seventeen points, and I don''t think I could beat you even if I did practice," Winters confidently expounded his twisted logic.


    "To practice and still not beat me would be a big loss, so not practicing equals a big gain. You Sea Blue people really are business geniuses," Aike said, unable to decide whether tough or cry.


    "I was sent here to the Federated Provinces Republic at the age of thirteen to attend the military prep school. You say I''m Sea Blue People, but they probably think of me as a hillbilly," Winters said with a mischievous smile, "Criticizing me is like criticizing yourselves. If there''s anything wrong with me, a person from the Sea Blue Republic, it must be because I''ve been corrupted by you folks from the Federated Provinces Republic.


    The nking sounds of sword fighting stopped as the group of students practicing behind Winters and Aike finished their match, and they repeated the actions of Winters and Aike: quickly stripping off their training armor and upper bodybat clothing, then rushing to the water tanks to guzzle down brackish water.


    A new group of students went up to suffer, and Aike, watching them fight with longswords, suddenly said with a touch of mncholy, "Sometimes I can''t help but wonder what''s the point of all the sweat we pour into practicing swordsmanship? Think about the owners of those armors; they wear an extrayer of chainmail and spend even more time practicing with weapons than we do."


    Winters was taken aback, but Aike continued, "I only started learning swordsmanship when I entered the military academy for the young, but the owners of these armors have been trained to be warriors from childhood. And in the end? They still get dragged off their horses and stabbed to death, or shot dead with muskets. Does personal bravery truly mean anything in war?"


    Winters was nearly choked by Aike''s abrupt change in stance, "Stealing my lines, aren''t you a bit immoral? Are those words even fitting for you to say? At least you should have lost before you have the right to make such remarks," he protested.


    "I''ve actually had this thought for a long time. I can understand why you don''t like practicing swordsmanship. You''re a Spellcaster, after all. It doesn''t matter if you don''t practice swordsmanship. I might be able to match you in swordy, but in a real battle, I might be dead after you cast a single spell. For Spellcasters, swordsmanship truly isn''t that significant," Aike looked straight into Winters'' eyes and said earnestly.


    Winters and Aike had known each other since they entered the prep school six years ago; it was no secret among the military academy students that some were Spellcasters. To Winters, Spellcasters were just like any other military academy students but with an additional Spellcaster course.


    The rest of the time everyone was in the same ssroom, eating in the same dining hall, sleeping in the samerge dormitory¡ªnothing special. But only today did Winters realize that Aikecked even the most basic understanding of the Alliance Country''s Spellcasters.


    This was actually not surprising, as for most people¡ªincluding trained prospective officers like Aike¡ªthe image of Spellcasters was tied to pointy hats, high towers, old men with white beards, and various supernatural folk tales.


    If Aike hadn''t attended military school, he might never in his life have seen a breathing Spellcaster¡ªand certainly not one who couldn''t breathe.


    Those born with magical talent were rare to begin with. More challenging than having a child with magical talent was the task of identifying and nurturing such gifted individuals from among the masses. So challenging that those who were not magicians wouldn''t even know where to start.


    Known magicians in this world were all Royal Mages/Court Magicians of feudal monarchs. They served as schrs, advisers, bodyguards, and enforcers exclusively for the very top of the feudal hierarchy.


    The magicians roamed the courts of feudal monarchs, andmoners had no chance to meet them¡ªthey should hope they wouldn''t encounter a magician.


    Who exactly were these court magicians with pseudonyms? Were they truly human? At what age were they selected? And how were they trained to be magicians? These secrets were likely only known to the magicians and rulers themselves.


    The techniques for selecting potential wizards, the training programs for magicians, and the means of casting spells¡ªthese were all closely guarded secrets of the ruling elite. Ordinary people''s understanding of magicians ranged from "cry again and the witch will take you away to eat you" to "the brave prince receives a magical sword from the reclusive wizard and wins an empire."


    The Gulf Alliance¡ªa nation founded bymoners who overthrew the emperor and nobles¡ªnaturally would not have magicians. Not only were there no magicians, but the Gulf Alliance was also a prime victim of the feudal rulers'' monopoly on magical power.

 Chapter 8: Chapter 2 What Are Spellcasters?_4

    In the war for national independence won by the militia, arge number of officers and soldiers died at the hands of court wizards raised by Richard IV. The mad Richard would cause a bloodbath every time he deployed the court wizards to the battlefield. Moreover, until the Emperor withdrew his troops, the Allied militiamen were never able to capture or kill any court wizard.


    Magicbat power in the Gulf Alliance was born after the war ended. After the Emperor withdrew his forces and the Gulf Alliance was established, "Mage without magical talent," army general, and eminent schr Antoine-Laurent summarized his experiences of facing court wizards in the war and finally discovered how to identify humans with the talent for spellcasting.


    General Antoine-Laurent immediately invented a corresponding detection tool, and from that moment on, the Allied Army began to screen for children and adolescents with magical talents within the Alliance territories every year, then using reason, bribery, intimidation, and other means to "convince" the parents of these children to enroll them in the various levels of schools operated by the army.


    The seedlings were found, but new problems quickly followed. How to train a child with magical talents into a mage like the court wizards? Everyone in the army was in the dark.


    The training system for mages was one of the ruling group''s corepetencies and a closely guarded secret. There were no external experiences to draw from. It was still General Antoine-Laurent who took the lead in establishing the Army''s Magic Warfare Bureau to start groping in the dark. Starting from scratch, they struggled to explore ways to train spellcasters and methods to realize spells.


    Today, after 25 years since the establishment of the Magical Warfare Bureau, they have just begun to achieve a little. The Mage Warfare Bureau divided magic into two major disciplines: the School of Spellcraft and the School of Alchemy, and categorized spells into fire-type, eleration-type, and sound-type, identifying the methods for twelve spells and forming a preliminary "proprietary intellectual property" training system for spellcasters.


    Because mages were traditionally synonymous with court wizards, to distinguish them, the military did not use the term mage but referred to their magic wielders as "spellcasters."


    In fact, even the Magic Warfare Bureau didn''t know if the path they were taking was right or wrong. The military''s higher-ups generally believed that although the Magic Warfare Bureau imed to be training mages, the level of the spellcasters was far inferior to the court wizards they had seen. The intuitive feeling was also a bit different¡ªperhaps standing too close had robbed them of their mystery.


    But the Alliance''s spellcasters could indeed replicate some of the magical effects they had seen on the battlefield.


    As the saying goes, "If you haven''t eaten pork, haven''t you seen a pig run?"


    But now the situation is quite special, as the Allied Army had only been injured by the metaphorical pig; not only had they not eaten the pork, they also hadn''t clearly seen how the pig ran.


    Although the military didn''t know if the path opened by General Antoine-Laurent was right or wrong, based on the simple idea that "having something is better than nothing," they firmly supported the Magic Warfare Bureau to continue moving forward reluctantly.


    Winters was one of the spellcasters, identified as having magical talent only after entering the army''s junior school. Out of 171 cadets in his cohort, 21 were spellcasters.


    This was a quite astonishing ratio; nearly half of the spellcasters in the Gulf Alliance of the same age as Winters were here, while the other half were mainly female and a few males whose physical conditions didn''t suit them for officer roles.


    All these spellcasters were enrolled in either the infantry or cavalry branches, with no one in the artillery branch (the military academy only offered these three disciplines). This was because one of the design goals of the army''s spellcaster training system was to train front-line officers with magical abilities as much as possible.


    Thete General Antoine-Laurent believed that for a long time toe, the Alliance Country would not be able to train mages of the level of court wizards. Since they could not take the elitist route like feudal countries, they had to win by numbers.


    Compared to the cautious approach of Richard IV using mages in war, the Allied military''s strategy was to deploy magicalbat power to the front lines of the battlefield, training as many officers with magical abilities as possible. However, there were some deviations in the execution of this strategy, which we will not mention here for now.


    Winters had assumed that his fellow military academy students would at least have a basic understanding of spellcasters, but even Aike thought he could kill someone with a single spell.


    He shook his head and waved his hands to quickly deny, "I''m not, I haven''t, don''t talk nonsense. I don''t like practicing swordsmanship because I''mzy, don''t attribute it to being a spellcaster. And so what if I am? Didn''t you just beat me up?"


    "But if you used magic, I couldn''t beat you," Aike said matter-of-factly.


    "How am I supposed to exin this!" Winters covered his face and let out a long sigh.

 Chapter 9: Chapter 3 Antoine-Laurent and His Magic System (Part 1)

    "Ah, I can''t make it clear, let me demonstrate some magic for you, and you''ll understand." Winters pped his thigh, feeling that showing is better than telling.


    "Sure." Hearing that Winters would show him real magic, Aike nodded eagerly.


    Spellcasters at school were all very secretive, and the school strictly prohibited asking about them. This was the first time Aike discussed magic and spellcasters with Winters.


    As for Winters, he had studied with Aike for six years at the preparatory school, and this was the first time Winters heard Aike express envy for the identity of a spellcaster. In fact, it was the first time Winters heard Aike express envy over anything at all, which made Winters feel obliged to satisfy Aike''s curiosity.


    So, Winters squeezed a few drops of sweat from his uniform onto a stone bench. He first focused his attention on his longsword to practice concentration, then Winters pressed his left thumb onto his left index finger, trying hard to recall the feeling of casting spells in the past.


    In Aike''s eyes, Winters was just staring motionlessly at these few drops of water. But to Winters, he began to feel a strange pressure and a tingling sensation.


    This pressure and tingling weren''ting from anywhere inside or outside his body, not from any part of his skin, any tissue, or any bone, yet he distinctly felt the squeeze and the sting.


    However, Winters was already familiar with this sensation, he endeavored to endure and conquer the pressure and tingling, and soon, ayer of fine sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, the few drops of water on the stone bench had all but disappeared.


    "All done!" Winters pped his hands and took afortable breath.


    "That''s it?" Aike asked, utterly confused.


    "That''s it," Winters answered matter-of-factly.


    "That was magic?" Aike asked, still puzzled.


    "That was magic," Winters assured Aike confidently.


    "How can that possibly be magic?" Aike felt truly baffled.


    "That is magic. You don''t understand magic, I show you what magic is, and yet you still don''t believe it," Winters also felt particrly wronged.


    "This (expletive) is just water evaporating, right? This (expletive) is just a few drops of water evaporating when blown by the wind, isn''t it?" Aike said, almostughing in frustration.


    "Don''t rush, listen to my exnation," Winters cleared his throat and began to give a forced exnation: "The disappearance of these few drops of water in front of you is different from evaporation due to the wind. These were turned into water vapor by my magic, they would vanish even without any wind blowing."


    "First, you must understand that using magic is just a type of ability, no different from other human abilities. Like some people run particrly fast, some people jump incredibly high," Winters shared his direct experience.


    Aike frowned.


    "Like fish can swim without learning and birds can fly without being taught. I can indeed use magic, but I don''t know the principle behind it, I just have the ability to use it," Winters thought but still felt he hadn''t made things clear enough.


    He thought it would be easier for Aike to understand if he rted it to his own experiences: "Just like you don''t know why everyone practices swordsmanship and you''re better at it, right? I think the innate talent for swordsmanship and for magic are simr in nature."


    "My swordsmanshipes from my hard work," Aike felt the need to correct Winters'' misunderstanding.


    "If you insist that you have no innate talent for swordsmanship and became the strongest in the school solely through hard work, that would just be irrational," Winters countered: "There are others who practice as diligently as you, or even more so, and still aren''t as good. I don''t deny the role of effort, but you can''t ignore the disparity in talent, can you?"


    "Then tell me, who practices swordsmanship more diligently than I do?" Aike felt quite indignant.


    "Bard," Winters threw out a name without hesitation.


    "Bard... Bard does work harder than I do, but I think his swordsmanship iscking because he started toote... Ah, never mind, go on," the mention of that name deted Aike''s indignation.


    "I didn''t say your swordsmanship is all due to talent; talent plus hard work, missing either won''t make you a top swordsman," Winters delivered his verdict: "But you can''t deny the role of talent just because of diligence, that would be an insult to those who are more hardworking but still fall short of you."


    "Now, where was I... Magic is an innate ability, spellcasters only know how to use it but don''t understand the principle," Winters gathered his thoughts, which had been disrupted by Aike.


    "But the effects that magical abilities can achieve are diverse andplex. The drops of water just now did not evaporate, they were turned into mist by me. Notice if there was any feeling of wind," Winters said as he made a gesture with his thumb pressing his middle finger and entered a spellcasting state, using the Wind Control Technique to generate a slight breeze between them.


    "Do you feel this breeze? This breeze was also produced by magic," Winters could only maintain the spell for a short while before he had to stop.


    "I just felt a little wind on my face, is that magic?" Aike did indeed feel a breeze against his skin just now.


    "That''s just the effect achieved by magic. When I use magic on you, you won''t feel ''magic,'' you can only feel the effects produced by the magic."


    "Just like the Wind Control Technique I just used, did you feel the magic? No, you only felt the wind. You can''t even distinguish whether it''s a natural wind or one produced by magic."


    "Human eyes can''t see magic; people can only observe the effects produced by magic. Because the effects that magic can create are so diverse and chaotic, we need to summarize and deduce, transforming perceptual knowledge into rational knowledge."


    "What are perceptual knowledge and rational knowledge?" Aike heard these two terms for the first time.


    "Put simply, at first, spellcasters only knew how to use magic, which is perceptual cognition. Great minds were not satisfied with just knowing how to use it, they attempted to summarize and deduce, to discover the intrinsicws of magic, and that''s rational cognition," Winters exined, feeling exhausted from speaking, so he shifted from sitting on the stone floor to sitting on a stone stool.


    Winters felt it was better to give examples from something Aike was familiar with, "Like swordsmanship, those who first used swords surely only knew how to il and hack wildly. After much use, they found several effective techniques, gained what we call experience, which is perceptual cognition.


    If it develops further, and a master of swordsmanship summarizes a theoretical system of swordsmanship, allowing inexperienced people to learn swordsmanship, and even to invent more powerful sword moves based on that system, that is rational cognition. Let''s go back to the example of those drops of water I mentioned earlier."


    "First, think about this, if you put water in an iron pot and heat it on a stove, the water eventually evaporates and disappears, right?" Winters started with the reasoning foundation.


    Aike nodded. It wasmon knowledge that water would evaporate when heated by fire.


    "So where does the water go?" Winters gently probed.


    "It turns into steam," Aike replied without hesitation. Water boiling and producing white steam was alsomon knowledge.


    "The process of boiling water is the water being heated by the fire and then turning into steam, right?" Winters continued to inquire.


    "Isn''t that obvious?" Aike was getting a little frustrated with Winters'' obvious statements.


    "Herees the crucial part, listen carefully. General Antoine-Laurent believes that it''s because of the fire that water turns into steam," Winters exined the history of magic in the Alliance seriously.


    "At the same time, the general believes that when magic is used to turn water into steam, even though no me appears, the same result as boiling water is achieved. Essentially, magic has taken the ce of the me. You didn''t see any me just now, did you?" Winters asked Aike.


    "I indeed didn''t see any mes," Aike was sure he saw no open fire.


    "Therefore, this type of ability where ''magic takes the ce of a me'' was summarized by General Antoine-Laurent as Fire-Starting magic. That''s the reasoning process the general followed when summarizing the Fire-Starting spells."


    "Simrly, ''the ability to elerate an object'' has been summarized as eleration magic."


    "Abilities rted to sound have been summarized as Sound magic. These are the three major categories of spells that the general came up with," Winters eximed in one breath.


    "Huh?" Aike waspletely confused.


    "Think back to the breeze just now, it was wind elerated by magic, so it''s eleration magic, and that spell is called the Wind Control Technique. If what''s being elerated is a nail, then it''s the Arrow Flying Spell," Winters hurriedly helped Aike review the points mentioned earlier.


    "Before General Antoine-Laurent summarized these three categories of magic, the Alliance was entirely ignorant about what magic was."


    "Furthermore, unlike the usual process where perceptual knowledgees first followed by rational knowledge, magic was monopolized by the Emperor and the great nobility, and the general himself wasn''t a spellcaster. He started from scratch, and it was entirely through his several encounters with Empire court spellcasters on the battlefield that he managed to summarize the three categories of magic, gaining rational knowledge.


    It was as if someone who had never touched a sword in their life, only been wounded by others using swords, had summarized a set of swordsmanship theory, and it was truly an effective theory.


    It was the general who first constructed the magic theoretical system and then invented magical detection devices based on that system that the Alliance was able to screen people with talent for spells from the popce," Winters said, admiring the feats of General Antoine-Laurent.


    Winters then added, "Without long-term training, those with only a talent for magic are incredibly weak, so weak that neither they nor others would normally notice. If it weren''t for General Antoine-Laurent, the Alliance would not have magicians."

 Chapter 10: Chapter 4 Antoine-Laurent and His Magic System (Part 2)

    Winters was clearly enjoying himself, but Aike was already fighting off sleep. Seeing Aike in the same state he usually was during spellcasting sses, Winters figured if he kept reading from the spellcasting textbook, Aike would be asleep in no time.


    "I''ve got to demonstrate some spells with more obvious effects!" Winters thought, carefully considering which spells were convenient to demonstrate.


    So Winters plucked a few hairs from Aike''s arm, causing Aike to jolt from the pain and wake up a bit.


    "Watch closely," Winters instructed Aike. He used the gesture of pressing his thumb against his index finger again to enter the spellcasting state, and the familiar yet strange sensations ofpression and prickling returned.


    The hairs in Winters''s hand began to change. Just as when arm hairs are identally singed by fire, the hairs curled up at a visible pace, leaving only a bit of char behind.


    Aike finally witnessed the magical aspect of magic, as he saw no open me.


    "Doesn''t this hair look like it''s been burnt?" Winters showed the charred remains to Aike.


    "The kind of magic that turned the hair to char is fire-type magic. This spell is called a Fire Spell, and the one that vaporized the water earlier is called a Vaporization Spell."


    "These two spells are the most basic within the fire-type spells. Now you understand why this kind of magic is called fire-type, right?" Winters prompted Aike, leading him to think for himself as a teacher would.


    "No me, but it had an effect like me, right?" Aike digested the information and responded, beginning to grasp the concept.


    "Correct, for example, if I use the Fire Spell on amp wick. Though there''s no visible me, the wick will light as if it''s touched me," Winters provided another everyday example.


    He said self-deprecatingly, "To tell the truth, doing small tasks like lightingmps is, in my opinion, the most practical use of fire-type spells."


    "And that Vaporization Spell, after ten years of spellcaster training, I can only vaporize a little bit of water, so thebat capability of fire-type spells is really poor."


    Thinking about the state of fire-type spells, Winters continued to mock himself, "If one day people can carry a source of fire with them, fire-type spells might just be obsolete."


    Aike''s eyes were nearly closed again, but Winters,pletely unaware, kept talking to himself, "I have imagined that if one had strong enough capabilities with fire-type spells, maybe it would be possible to vaporize the blood within an enemy''s body. But I still don''t know which Alliance spellcaster could be that powerful¡­"


    "You really did fall asleep!" Winters noticed Aike''s eyes had closed and scolded in frustration, "You wanted to see magic, I showed you, and you fell asleep."


    "I exined so clearly and simply, yet you''re still sleepy? You might as well listen to a spellcaster lesson when you have insomnia. I bet your butt will hit the chair and you''ll be asleep in an instant."


    "Wait, this is magic? You don''t have to chant some super long andplicated spell? Aren''t sorcerers in stories always highly powerful only after they''ve learned some ancient chant?" Aike suddenly perked up with a thought, lifting his head to look at Winters.


    "Chant my ass, chant for whom?" Winters said angrily, "In the Alliance territory, everyone speaks the Empirenguage, don''t the Sea Blue People and United Provincials have different ents?


    The Empire nobles don''t speak the Empirenguage, they speak an old tongue; Ancient Empire people speak ancientnguage; the Flemish (Fremen, meaning travelers) speak the Flemishnguage; Silk Country people speak the Silk Countrynguage (Silk Country, also known as Serica).


    With differentnguages used all over the world, chanting? If you chant in differentnguages, who''s chanting it right? Who''s chanting it wrong? Do we also need to invent anguage specifically for chanting? You think that a sorcerer from Silk Country and one from the Empire can agree to use one unified chantingnguage across thousands of miles?"


    "What about the staff, then? Sorcerers have to have a staff, don''t they?"


    "If I had a staff, why would I practice this?" Winters lifted his longsword and gestured, "Shouldn''t I have just gone and trained with a staff then? A spellcaster''s abilities alle from within, not affected by external things. Don''t fantasize that acquiring some magical treasure will suddenly make you a great sorcerer, it''s impossible. If you give an ordinary person a great sword, can he be an expert swordsman like you?"


    "Alright, alright, don''t be angry. Think about it, you''ve had ten years of spellcaster training, and I''ve only learned from you what a spellcaster is today. How could I possibly understand it all at once? Let me digest it slowly," Aike appeased Winters with soothing words. He knew Winters''s hot temper and that the mule should be stroked along the grain.


    Winters also felt that he had been too harsh in his words just now, and although he felt guilty, he couldn''t express it, so he thought for a bit and continued to exin to Aike, "However, there might be some truth to those stories of sorcerers'' chants, as if they were not entirely unfounded. General Antoine-Laurent believes that for a sorcerer, chanting may be a form of self-suggestion."


    "The General thinks chanting for sorcerers is just a ritual, ''The ritual isn''t important, the sense of the ritual is.'' Use a specific phrase for a specific spell, creating self-suggestion with the sense of ritual." Winters still took examples from Aike''s life, "Just as archers believe certain rituals make their shots more urate, and before a sword fight, don''t you always lick your palm?"


    "Me licking my palm isn''t self-suggestion, it''s just a habit," Aike''s face turned red: "And when did I ever lick it furiously¡­"


    "You say it''s a habit, then it''s a habit. Your so-called habit is just another term for self-suggestion."


    "In short, it''s about linking the difficult Action A with the simple Action B, then by partaking in simple Action B, assist with the better aplishment of the difficult Action A."


    "There''s no need to be that embarrassed about liking to lick your palm, right? I always wear the same pair of shoes for every exam."


    "It''s those old shoes with the worn-out soles!" Aike had an epiphany, "I wondered why you were so reluctant to throw them away¡­"


    Winters inadvertently revealed his own secret, but his skin was thick enough to ignore Aike and continue educating on magic knowledge, "It is precisely because incantations are just self-suggestion that General Antoine-Laurent invented spellcasting gestures to rece incantations."


    "The general categorized magic into three main sses, each representing a different spellcasting ability. Spells within the same category are quite simr, while spells from different categories are as different as wrestling is from sword fights."


    "Wrestling is a part of swordy; Marshal Ned''s manual on swordsmanship dedicates a considerable section to wrestling," Aike immediately stood up to refute Winters.


    "Wrestling is a damn part of sword fighting, cut the crap," Winters said frustratedly.


    "This is the gesture used when casting Fire-type spells." Winters raised his left hand and pressed his thumb against his index finger.


    "This is the gesture used when casting eleration-type spells." He then pressed his thumb against his middle finger.


    "This is the gesture used when casting sound-type spells." Finally, he pressed his thumb against his ring finger.


    "This is you when you''re wrestling." Then he raised his middle finger.


    Winters continued to exin, "Actually, you could use any other action, like pulling hair, rubbing eyes, picking your nose, anything will do, as long as you associate an action with a category of spells."


    "The set of gestures invented by the general is quite simple; all it takes is a finger movement. Therefore, spellcasters from the Alliance generally use this set of gestures."


    "Of course, you can also cast spells without gestures, but if you suddenly switch from using one category of spells to another, your mind won''t be able to keep up."


    "It''s like being told to fence for a round and then suddenly y a move in chess. Then go back to fencing another round beforeing back to continue the chess game. The spellcaster''s magical cognition will get confused."


    "Especially when usingposite spells thatbine two sses of magic, it''s nearly impossible to switch smoothly without coordinating gestures. If the spellcasting gestures are well practiced, the transition back and forth won''t be as confusing."


    "So we spellcasters from the Alliance don''t chant; we only use gesture casting."


    It was another lengthy lecture, leaving Aike feeling dizzy. After digesting the content for a moment, he earnestly said, "Although I didn''t understand much, I did pick up one thing: General Antoine-Laurent created many things and discovered much knowledge; he''s a truly great man."


    "Antoine-Laurent de Lavoisier is the father of the Alliance''s magical system. Although he couldn''t perform magic, I''m willing to call him the greatest spellcaster," Winters also put aside his flippant attitude and said solemnly, "I feel he represents the spirit of our humanity, the courage to explore thews of everything."


    "It''s a pity General Antoine-Laurent died too soon, passing away at just fifty-one,"Aike sighed as well, "Do you know how the general died? At that time, I was just starting at the military school and didn''t understand much. I only remember one morning the teacher told us General Antoine-Laurent had passed away and asked us to observe a moment of silence."


    "Head disease," Winters replied sinctly, "It''s said that the general was working on something that would redefine magic, but tragically, his life was cut short, and his manuscripts were also lost."


    "So being able to turn water into steam means having talent for magic? Let me give it a try; maybe I have a talent for magic, too?" Aike quickly changed the subject, as he dabbed his hand in water and let a few drops fall onto a stone bench, then he mimicked Winters, trying to focus intently on the droplets.


    "The vaporization of water is very difficult." Seeing Aike attempt to vaporize water, Winters hurriedly reminded his friend, "The abilities of untrained spellcasters are very weak, almost indistinguishable frommon people. It''s impossible to vaporize water.


    To draw an analogy, if the essence of magic is fire, then untrained spellcasters are not even a me; they could only be considered the sparks from striking flint. Only through prolonged training can they gradually be a spark and eventually a me.


    To test for a little spark, you''d have to use the device invented by General Antoine-Laurent. Besides, haven''t you been tested?"


    "When was I ever tested?" Aike eximed in surprise.


    "Didn''t they test you when you entered the academy as a young boy?" Winters was also surprised, "Isn''t everyone at Lu You tested upon admission? That''s how I found out during my enrollment."


    "I was only nine years old when I entered the academy; I really don''t remember whether I was tested or not. How do they test?" Aike thought hard, but had no memory of being tested.


    "I can''t remember either; it seems it was in a room with several ss instruments," Winters scratched his head¡ªit had been ten years ago, and his memory was hazy.


    "It seems a woman tested me; I did whatever she asked, and then I left. Afterwards, the teacher told me I was a spellcaster, and I ended up with an extra spellcaster course."


    Aike shook his head, expressing regret, "I really don''t have any memory of it. Maybe they didn''t test me, or perhaps they did, and I''ve forgotten."


    But he quickly added with cheer, "Never mind, let me now try and see if I can vaporize this water. Ha ha, what if I''m a neglected genius? Giving it a shot isn''t against the rules."


    Having said that, he dabbed some brine, dropped it onto a stone bench, and then cupped his hands around the water droplet to shield it from the wind. He concentrated hard and stared at the droplet. Winters sat beside him nomittally, curiously waiting for the oue.

 Chapter 11: Chapter 5: The Third Hand and the Fifth Limb

    Watching Aike fumble about, Winters remained nomittal. He felt that given the army''s eagerness for spellcasters, it was unlikely that a cadet with the potential to cast spells would be overlooked.


    But to tly deny someone''s dream is highly hical, even if what''s said is the truth.


    Aike strived to "use magic," his face getting closer and closer to the stone bench, his expression increasingly fierce, his eyes nearly glued to the water droplet.


    However, Winters thought that with today''s temperature, whether Aike had the ability to cast spells or not, the water on the stone would surely evaporate.


    "Do you feel anything special?" Winters asked Aike.


    "Right now, my eyes feel particrly dry."


    "That''s what I like about you, your sense of humor."


    "Water can''t be used to test for potential, otherwise there would be no need for special equipment to screen spellcasters," Winters exined why water tests wouldn''t work: "General Antoine-Laurent once mentioned that vaporizing a droplet of water requires more magic power than elerating an arrow as if it were fired from a hundred-pound hard bow."


    "But the general just mentioned it in passing, without a detailed argument," Winters continued: "However, I can also feel during my regr training that water is the hardest liquid to vaporize. Now do you see why spells of eleration are recognized as the most lethal?"


    "So vaporizing this bit of water seems useless, but elerating an arrow can take a life?" Axel pondered for a moment and tentatively replied.


    "Exactly, the difficulty of the spell does not corrte with its lethality," Winters thought about the awkward status of the current fire magic spells: "Magic wasn''t created for battle, humans simply picked out the spells that are suitable for killing."


    "Hey, what''s there to talk about, isn''t it more frustrating to spend ten years on swordsmanship only to die from a gunshot on the battlefield?" Aike epted the reality quickly and drew a parallel: "Gods didn''t create steel and gunpowder for killing, right? Aren''t they still used to take lives?"


    "Spellcasters don''t believe in gods, but I agree with your view."


    The water droplets on the stone bench had all disappeared, but Aike hadn''t experienced any sensation of using magic. He said somewhat dejectedly, "It seems I indeedck the talent for spells."


    "Not necessarily, but anyway, water can''t be used to test it," Winters said, indicating that regardless of whether Aike had potential, water testing was unsuitable. He consoled Aike, "If you really want to test, after the awarding of ranks tomorrow, I''ll take you to find Instructor Christian. He should have a way."


    "Which Instructor Christian?" Aike asked, as Christian meant believer, and it was amon name at the school.


    "Head of the Spellcasters Teaching and Research Office, he should be the most powerful spellcaster in school," Winters assured Aike with confidence: "Don''t worry, he has a good temperament, asking for his assistance will definitely be no problem."


    "Forget about it, I was just trying it out, I never really thought I was a spellcaster." While Winters offered eagerly to find someone to test Aike, Aike backed out. It was one thing to test casually with a few drops of water; going to see the head of the Teaching and Research Office and using specialized equipment was totally another matter.


    "Just tell me about the sensation of using magic, don''t talk about the theory of magic, it gives me a headache." Aike was very curious about what it felt like to be a magician.


    "I can''t urately describe it withnguage either," Winters said helplessly, feeling no matter how he phrased it, he couldn''t describe it properly: "Let me give you an example, don''t be upset, but can you describe colors to a person born blind?"


    This question stumped Aike as well. He thought for a long while and came up with various descriptions but ultimately admitted, "No, how can someone who has never known colors understand them?"


    "It''s the same with the feeling of using magic. How can you describe the sensation to someone who has never experienced magic?" Winters spoke frankly, quickly adding: "I''m just making aparison, I''m not saying you''re disabled, don''t get upset."


    "I can certainly understand what you''re saying," Aike said with a gentle smile: "It depends on what you consider normal. If spellcasters are the norm, then indeed, we are all disabled."


    "You are normal, spellcasters are the exceptions," Winters quickly changed the subject: "I will still try my best to describe the sensation of using magic, though it won''t be very urate and is limited to my own experiences."


    "Alright."


    "Sometimes there''s an intense squeezing sensation, as if the entire space ispressing towards me; sometimes there''s a sharp, stabbing pain, as if I were being pierced with a knife; sometimes it''s very cold, and at other times extremely hot," Winters frowned as he reflected on his experience with magic.


    He continued, "The point is that these feelings don''te from any specific part of my body. It''s like someone else is getting hit, but I feel the pain. Do you know what phantom limb pain is?"


    "Is it when amputated soldiers feel as if their severed limbs are still there and even experience pain?" Aike recalled content from his health ss.


    "Exactly, it''s like phantom limb pain," Winters nodded. "But for me, it''s not about feeling pain where a body part has been amputated; it''s as if the paines from a limb I''ve never possessed.


    The source of pain has no flesh and blood but possesses a real sensation. To call it a limb isn''t quite urate, yet I don''t know how to describe it precisely. Just like I mentioned earlier, it is impossible to describe colors to a blind person," he said.


    "I think I''m beginning to grasp what you''re talking about," Aike replied thoughtfully.


    "That''s why the Alliance spellcasters refer to the gift of magic as the invisible ''third hand,'' the ''fifth limb'' beyond the four limbs. The numbers three and five hold significant symbolic meaning to the Alliance spellcasters, which is why the Alliance of Spellcasters is also known as the Three-Five Society."


    Winters dipped his hand in water and drew a symbol on the stone bench. He began by drawing a pentagon and then connected one vertex to two others, dividing the pentagon into three triangles.


    "This is the emblem of the Alliance spellcasters. Look at its shape; a pentagon divided into three triangles. It can represent the third hand, the fifth limb, and the three major types of magic," Winters exined to Aike the meaning behind the symbol as he drew it.


    "So this is the emblem of the spellcasters? And here I was thinking you wore this badge every day because it was the insignia of the Sea Blue Fellowship!"


    "You didn''t know this was the spellcasters'' emblem?"


    "You never mentioned it, did you?"


    "You never asked, did you?"


    This chicken-and-egg cycle could go on endlessly. Aike exined why he hadn''t asked, "The school doesn''t allow us to inquire about spellcasters. Besides, you all attend spellcasting sses on Sundays. While we go to church, you have sses, and we''ve never eavesdropped."


    "It really wasn''t necessary, seeing as you''ll eventually find out in the army. No wonder you had the wrong impression of spellcasters," Winters quickly remembered something else: "But haven''t we taken tactics sses on countering enemy mages?"


    "It''s precisely because of how the instructor in the anti-mage tactics ss described it that I thought spellcasters could kill me with just a flick of their fingers," Aike said with a wry smile. "What he described in ss is very different from what you''re telling me."


    "I think what''s described in the anti-magic ss must be rted to Richard IV''s enforcers during the Sovereign Wars¡ªthe court wizards," Winters realized what was being misconstrued: "Court wizards are few and shrouded in mystery. Their training and the methods of casting spells are unknown to outsiders."


    Winters took a moment to recall what he had learned about court wizards in his literature ss: "Flemish schrs documented that ancient emperors of Silk Country once summoned meteor showers to destroy hundreds of thousands of rebels. It''s unimaginable. Someone like me, who can barely light a candle, can''t fathom how to perform such super spells."


    "Summoning a meteor shower? If court wizards were really that powerful, wouldn''t the madman Richard have conquered Guidao City?" Aike also found it hard to believe.


    "That''s why I think there''s a lot of exaggeration in that part of the ancient records. Anyway, if people are going to exaggerate, they definitely tend to go big," Winters said,ughing.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the dividing line of the Starfall Spell¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Book of Later Han - Annals of Emperor Guangwu: "At night, a meteor fell in the camp; during the day, a cloud like a crumbling mountain appeared, falling over the camp and dispersing before it reached a foot above the ground, causing all officers and soldiers to be filled with dread."


    Book of Jin - Annals of Emperor Xuan: "Meeting with Liang at Jisheng, he fought on the ins. Liang was unable to advance and withdrew to Wuzhang ins. Then a long-tailed star fell on Liang''s rampart, and the Emperor knew defeat was inevitable so he sent troops to attack Liang from behind, beheading more than five hundred and capturing over a thousand prisoners, with over six hundred surrendering."


    Book of Jin - Annals of Emperor Xuan: "At that time, a long-tailed star, white and with a mane-like appearance, streaked from the southwest of Xiangping city to the northeast, falling into the Liang River, shaking the city with terror. Wen Yi, greatly afraid, sent his appointed chancellor Wang Jian and Grand Herald Liu Fu to surrender, requesting to lift the siege and presenting themselves in shackles."

 Chapter 12: Chapter 6 Mass-Produced Magic Combat Golems

    Afterughing, Winters still kindly reminded Aike, "The descriptions of magicians in ancient books are definitely exaggerated, but since court wizards can be the emperor''s personal enforcers, they must possess real skills.


    If you ever encounter a court wizard one day, be very careful. Don''t lump us spellcasters together with court wizards. We and they are two different kinds of magic users."


    "I think maybe they''re the ones who deserve to be called magicians, while we''re just spellcasters," Winters said in self-deprecation. "I think that''s what the generals at the Department of the Army must think too, which is why they refer to us as ''spellcasters'' and not ''magicians.'' We''re nothing but mass-produced magical war tools for the Alliance."


    "Don''t put yourself down, magic must be of great use on the battlefield." Although Aike had never been to a battlefield, it was obvious that he was a firm supporter of the Army''s spellcaster policy: "Otherwise, why would the Army ce so much importance on spellcasters? Magicians are the Mad King Richard''s most trusted executioners."


    "That has to be an extremely, extremely powerful magician though, there isn''t a spellcaster in the entire Alliance now that can match the court wizards of the Mad King." Winters cupped his hand by his mouth, making a megaphone shape: "If I really get to the battlefield, I''m just a human megaphone. You know, the kind made from tinte, shaped into a cone, with the tip removed, the kind the drill instructor holds every morning to yell at people."


    Aike didn''t understand what Winters was talking about, and Winters said bitterly, "I''m not the one who said that, it was General Taylor. He came to inspectst year and spoke to the spellcaster cadets alone."


    Getting excited, Winters imitated General Taylor''s hoarse duck voice: "The most useful spell in battle is the Amplification Spell! This Amplification Spell is really good formanding troops. It doesn''t get drowned out by gunfire, even made little drums obsolete. You guys definitely have to practice your Amplification Spell well, and cut down on those other useless, fancy tricks."


    "Just listen to how the top brass of the Provincial Army values spellcasters, useless fancy tricks?" Winters suddenly had a ludicrous thought: "If there were portable fire starters, Fire-type spells would be rendered obsolete. And if someday someone invents a device that can amplify voices without magic, army spellcasters might just all be out of a job."


    "What ''tool people,'' you guys are the treasures of the military!" Aike pondered for a moment before making up his mind to tell Winters: "Have you ever heard of the ''Decade Personnel''?"


    Winters thought carefully for a moment, then shook his head.


    Aike exined: "It''s normal that you haven''t heard of it, it''s something those of us without magical talents discuss. If army officers want to be promoted, apart from serving time, there must also be a vacancy, right?"


    This wasmon knowledge among all army officers and prospective officers, so Winters replied without hesitation: "That''s correct."


    "But there are many officers in the military who, even if they have served enough time, can''t get promoted and just continue to umte seniority." Aike''s tone was also uncertain: "However, many people say that spellcaster officers will definitely be promoted once they have served enough time, so within ten years they''re sure to make major, and within twenty, colonel."


    This was the first time Winters had heard about this unwritten rule within the Army, and he was shocked. Naturally, just as nobody discusses a bully in front of the bully, which ssmate would talk about spellcasters in front of spellcasters?


    Aike''s words made Winters feel his cheeks burning because he realized he was a beneficiary of an unfair system, while his good friends and ssmates were being oppressed by it.


    "If there really is such an unwritten rule, then it''s tant discrimination and unjust." The education Winters received since childhood emphasized fairness and justice, and such a policy of the Army obviously contradicted the principle of fairness.


    He said sincerely: "Military promotions should be based on ability and merit, I don''t believe that a talent for spells holds any special value formanding troops, that''s just mismanagement by the Army."


    Aike realized his words had made Winters feel guilty, and he quickly said, "Don''t take it too seriously, it''s not a big deal. Officer promotions definitely won''t only look at magical ability, but considering everything, having magical ability as a bonus is reasonable."


    Aike then mentioned another example of even less fair treatment: "What about those officers whoe out of ''crash courses'' and can''t even be field officers in their lifetime, aren''t they even more discriminated against?"


    Seeing the topic veering towards a critique of the Alliance Army''s decision-makers, Aike now particrly regretted bringing up the subject of the ''Decade Personnel'' with Winters. He hurriedly brought the conversation back to magic: "You were just saying that Fire-type spells are useless, but how can fire magic be useless? Isn''t controlling fire quite impressive?"


    "Fire-type magic isn''t about controlling fire, but using magic to achieve some effects in ce of fire. For example, with a non-mmable material like stone, no matter how much magic I use, I can''t make it burn," Winters hurriedly corrected Aike''s misunderstanding about magic.


    "But to tell you the truth, my Fire-type spells might not even be as powerful as just using a torch," Winters said reluctantly: "I can barely vaporize a bit of water at full strength, but with a torch, you could quickly dry out the water."


    "Sound-type spells don''t require casting materials, and the eleration-type just needs some hard objects. Whereas most Fire-type spells rely on casting materials. If we really were on the battlefield, you''d have probably taken me down with your sword before I could even get my casting materials out."


    "How could that be? Didn''t you just burn a hair just now?" Aike said with a smile: "If we really got into a fight, can''t you just figure out how to light my hair on fire and win?"


    The speaker was unintentional, but the listener was intentional. The suggestion struck Winters like a bolt of lightning: "I actually never really thought about using the Fire-type spells to set an enemy''s hair aze."


    Winters thought more and more that the idea was interesting. He stood up excitedly and said to Aike, "Your idea is really so dirty, I love it, I''m going to note this spell down in my spellbook."


    "Haha, now you have your own original spell, how about we call it Axel''s Hair Burning Spell?" Winters paced and said, "Hair Burning Spell doesn''t sound imposing enough, how about Axel''s Scalp Scorcher? Face mer? Hair Annihtor?"


    "Is this really considered inventing a spell?" Aike said with a wry smile, "Isn''t this a bit too childish?"


    "Why wouldn''t this be considered inventing a spell? You''ve invented a unique usage for fire-type magic." Winters argued earnestly, "It''s all about waving arms and wielding swords, which can be broken down into so many stances and moves. So why wouldn''t inventing a unique usage for a spell be considered inventing a spell? Do you think fire-type magic spells are categorized together because they all follow the same principle, differing only in their application?"


    "Alright, alright, let''s just call it Hair Burning Spell then," Aike answered offhand.


    "Although it''s not tested yet, this approach is really novel. We need to find some actual hair to practice with a few times to see how to make hair burn faster and more fiercely." The more Winters thought about it, the more interesting it became, "I finally understand why the general said, ''There are no useless spells, only foolish spellcasters. A spellcaster must first be clever and only then can one be a spellcaster.''"


    "I''ve been too rigid in my thinking, only considering sh Spell for actualbat, but you''ve opened my eyes," Winters said emphatically. "Aike, you really are a genius. If you had magical talent, you''d definitely be a hundred times stronger a spellcaster than I am."


    "It''s not that amazing, don''t tter me," Aike felt that Winters was making too much of a fuss, "What if I shaved off all my hair then?"


    "That¡­" Winters''s breath hitched, "¡­then I would have to resort to using sh Spell again."


    Aike burst intoughter, but after hisughter subsided, he spoke to Winters with a sincere and yearning tone, "I really want to be a spellcaster, even if I were the worst one. Even if I could only manage the most basic spell of the fire-type spells you despise. It''s not because of any ''ten-years goal'' that I want to be a spellcaster, I just genuinely want to be one. I really want to know what it feels like to use magic."


    Winters could understand the sentiment Aike expressed; who hadn''t fallen asleep with fantasies of bing a knight or a magician in their younger years? When he''d learned he could study spells, he too was so excited that he could hardly sleep all night.


    It''s a shame though, for the magical abilities of an untrained potential spellcaster were like tiny sparks. But if one wished to make mes roar, one at least needed those sparks to begin with. How could you light a fire without any sparks?


    "Is it so devastating not to be a magician? If you really experienced it, you''d probably think it''s ''not a big deal'' and be greatly disappointed. Plus, I''ll tell you, ever since I started my spellcaster training, I''ve been particrly sleepy; I seriously suspect it''s a side effect of learning spells." But Winters still tried to console Aike:


    "If I could, I''d rather trade my spellcasting ability for your swordsmanship prowess. Do you know how painful it is that I''ve never beaten you? Do you know I hide in the bathroom every day, washing my face with tears? Besides, court magicians might be different, but us spellcaster officers, we''re really just tools."


    This absurd rambling brought a smile to Aike''s face, "Your love of sleeping has absolutely nothing to do with being a spellcaster, you just naturally love to sleep in. Enough about the impossible. Tell me more about what it feels like to use magic. Is it just extremely painful when you use magic?"


    Winters thought carefully again about the sensation of using magic, his face flushing as he said, "It''s really extremely painful, like being tortured, but besides that, it''s also extremely... exhrating. It hurts while bringing joy, at least that''s how it feels to me. And I often feel a bit empty after I stop casting, I suspect it might be a sign of addiction."


    "Using magic can also be very exhrating? Exhrating to the point of addiction?" Aike was stunned.


    "Yes." Winters''s face reddened even more.


    Of course, using magic could be addictive because it was exhrating, but the spellcasters of this era did not know the deeper reasons. Later researchers, through MRI technology, discovered that when spellcasters used spells, almost their entire cerebral cortex became intensely active, and the activation pattern was very simr to the brain rewarding human reproductive behavior. This kind of cerebral fireworks surely brought intense pain and pleasure simr to the rewards for human reproduction.


    Without this kind ofpensation, humans wouldn''t be able to endure the additional pain brought by casting spells. Later researchers even found that the physical structure of spellcasters'' brains differed from that of regr people, with spellcasters having a thicker cortex and smaller medu.


    "How exhrating is it?" Aike asked seriously.


    "Very exhrating," Winters answered earnestly.


    "It''s not because of some particr type of desire you have?" Aike asked skeptically.


    "I am not a masochist!" Winters retorted angrily.


    "No need to talk any further, let''s not wait until tomorrow, let''s do it today." Aike gripped Winters''s hand tightly, "After ss, hurry and take me to see whatever his name was... Christian, the teacher, to get tested. I feel now... that I might very well be a diamond in the rough!"

 Chapter 13: Extra Story: The Protagonists Character Card (Up to Chapter 6)

    ```


    (A character sheet simr to the one from "Pirs of Eternity" has been created for the protagonist, and it may be interesting as it''s updated throughout the story.


    However, don''t take the attributes too seriously, because spellcasters rely on their brains to fight, not attributes.)


    Name: Winters Montagne/Winters Montagne/Yue Dong


    Gender: Male


    upation: Warrior (Level 3) Spellcaster (Level 2)


    Innate Ability: Never Tear Card


    Handedness: Right-handed


    Height: 1.82 meters (barefoot)


    Background:


    Great Gulf Alliance Country/the Confederate States of Great Sinus


    (Enlightenment: The people don''t need an emperor, it''s the emperor who needs the people. Resolve +1.)


    Sea Blue Republic/Venerable Va Republic/ Honorable Republic of Va


    (Mercantilism: Everything in the world has a price. Diplomacy +1)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Educational Background:


    Army Junior School of Va Branch


    Army Officer Preparatory School


    Army Officer School


    (Ivory Tower Officer: Street Smarts -4 Tactics +3 Strength +1 Constitution +1)


    (The Army''s unhealthy obsession with schooling results in most officer school students being from internal promotions.)


    Standard Alliance Country Spellcaster Officer Training


    (Mass Production Magic War Tool: Unlocks Alliance Spellcaster Skill Tree. Religious Knowledge -4)


    (If you believe wine can turn into blood, bread into flesh, you''re not a qualified spellcaster.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Courses Completed:


    General Studies: Rhetoric, History, Mathematics, Geometry, Law, International Law, Old Language, Ancient Language;


    Military Science: Tactics, Fortifications, Fortress Tactics, Military Map Drawing and Use, Military History, Terrain, Equine Studies, Hygiene, ounting;


    Military Academics: Horsemanship, Swordsmanship, Weapons, Field Surveying, Field Tactics, Military History Travel, Annual Exercises, Routine Services.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Active Abilities:


    Longsword (A Skilled) (Being routinely thrashed by S-rank swordsmen makes him quite strong in a sense.)


    Matchlock Gun (B Proficient) (Here you go, this is the shooting rod; point the muzzle at the enemy, and you can go to war.)


    Horse Riding (B Proficient) (I like horses, but I''m toozy to shovel manure, brush them, or feed them carrots.)


    General Weaponry (D Rough Understanding) (Oh~ Ah~ Eh~ So that''s how it is, I get it.)


    Machinery (A Skilled) (Need to add two more sets of gears for bnced force, so theary gears don''t break so easily.)


    sting (B Proficient) (Art is explosion, what mischievous kid doesn''t love fireworks?)


    Alchemy (E Basic Knowledge) (I hear... maybe... presumably...)


    Old Language (B Proficient) (¨ºtre?seul?n''a?pas?d''importance being single is no big deal.)


    Ancient Language (C Unfamiliar) (Ancientnguage is a deadnguage, I can manage with a dictionary.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Passive Abilities: (The standard for the average person is 3; passive abilities equal to 3 are not specified.)


    Historical Knowledge 6 (History +1 Military History ss +1 Military History Travel +1) (Obscure historical knowledge)


    Diplomatic Communication 4 (Mercantilism +1) (Trust me, this is to our mutual benefit.)


    Religious Knowledge -1 (Standard Senas Spellcaster Officer Training -4) (Eat shit, chatan!)


    Street Smarts -1 (Ivory Tower Officer -4) (If I lose my wallet, I''ll go to the guards.)


    Tactical Acumen 6 (Military-school background +3) (Grip your weapon tight! No looking back! No retreat!)


    Outdoor Survival 2 (Highfalutin -2 City Kid -2 Stomach forged in the military school dining hall +3) (Is this wheat? Oh, it''s not wheat.)


    Perception 5 (Military Training +2) (From the tattoo on your arm, I deduce you''re a sailor.)


    Intimidation 4 (Military Status +1) (Let me introduce you to something else: a broad-de knife!)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Spellcasting Assessment:


    Fire-based Magic: Medium


    Kic Magic: Weak


    Sound-based Magic: Slightly Weak


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Spells That Can Be Cast Effectively:


    (Just as a five-year-old could try lifting a hundred-pound barbell, as long as one understands the principles, a spell could be utilized, but the issue is whether it can be used effectively)


    ```


    Antoine-Laurent''s Fire Burning Technique


    Antoine-Laurent''s Vaporization Spell


    Te''s Luminosity Spell


    David''s sh Spell


    The Nameless One''s Iron Melting Technique


    The Flying General''s Arrow Flying Spell


    The Wright Brothers'' Wind Control Technique


    Ludwig''s Sound Amplification Technique


    Axel''s Hair Burning Spell


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Character Traits:


    Alliance Country Supporter


    Although born in the Sea Blue Republic, Winters was educated in The Federated Provinces Republic from a young age and has been deeply influenced by Alliance Country ideals, agreeing that the Alliance government should have more power.


    (So is he a patriot or a traitor?)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Gics of Vian People


    Fierceness is etched into the DNA of Vian people.


    (Stop carving everything into DNA, you bastard!)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Respect for Professional Knowledge and Skills


    Winters respects people who have professional knowledge and skills, such as mathematicians or swordsmiths.


    (You can do what I cannot.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Atheist


    Spellcasters'' powerse from their understanding of thews of everything, and Winters doesn''t believe in the existence of deities.


    (Listen up, I''m toozy to educate you on atheism, and don''t you try to push your religious beliefs on me.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Lawful Good


    Winters is willing to do good deeds, but his military academy education also taught him to respect order.


    (It''s good to thrust a sword into a bad guy''s mouth, but I''d prefer if the judge gave the go-ahead first.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Boys'' Club


    Winters spent ten years in an all-boys boarding school, and he''s very skilled at getting along with males, but rtively poor at dealing with females.


    (What kind of school is this! You have really done some damage here!)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Carefree


    Winters, naturally lively, even in the darkest and most tragic circumstances, likes to joke and the uncertainty of life, favoring those with a sense of humor.


    (Specifically manifests as an uncontroble desire to make snarkyments)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The World is a Shoddy Performance


    Winters thinks the whole world is a shoddy performance, a worldpeting to be worse, not better.


    (It doesn''t matter how miserable I am, as long as my enemies are more miserable than me.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Loves Animals


    If heaven doesn''t have cats, then I''d like to go to a ce that does.


    (Of course, it would be even better if they didn''t shed.)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Not Very Rigorous Character Attributes: (Added points ording to PE rules, plus the skill points provided by character background)


    Strength 12 (Base 11 +1 from military academy background) (Winters loves to sleep and avoids all unnecessary physicalbor)


    Constitution 13 (Base 12 +1 from military academy background) (A constitution of 13 means less likely to fall ill)


    Agility 14 (Base 13 +1 from swordsmanship training) (Agility without strength is meaningless, except for running away.)


    Perception 15 (Base 13 +2 from spellcaster training) (Intuition is the thing that''s most urate after the fact.)


    Intelligence 18 (Base 16 +2 from spellcaster training) (Do you think my extra sleep was for nothing?)


    Determination 14 (Base 13 +1 from Enlightenment beliefs) (Is 14 points of determination really that much?)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    (The End)

 Chapter 14: Chapter 7: A good soldier is one who can grab a weapon and has saliva in his mouth.

    "On the battlefield, if you can grip a weapon and have saliva in your mouth, you are a good soldier!" swordsmanship instructor Richard Nal was giving hisst lecture to 55 students of Infantry ss 554 at the Army Officer Academy: "These aren''t my words, but those of the old Marshal."


    When the Army Officer Academy was established, the preparatorymittee believed there were too many courses conducted in ssrooms and that it was necessary to add a special physical education ss. The initial n was to choose one among swordsmanship, wrestling, and archery.


    Most senior officers of the Alliance Army had attended Marshal Ned''s evening "tutoring sessions" organized during the Sovereignty War, so everyone had learned longsword techniques from Marshal Ned incidentally.


    Therefore, the Army''s decision-makers wished to pass on the tradition of the longsword, making it one of the military subjects in the physical education curriculum at the Officer Academy.


    "ssmates, this is yourst swordsmanship ss. You must have all thought about the significance of practicing longsword techniques for your future military careers," Instructor Nal paused and said without any courtesy:


    "I can tell you now that the chance you will need to draw your longswords to grapple with the enemy in the future is very slim. Many of you might never hold a sword hilt in both hands again after leaving this training room."


    "What is a longsword to you? What is swordsmanship? Is it really forbat? Outside the Ivory Tower of the military school, there are more agile and portable weapons in vogue. Want to know what weapons work in actualbat? Go watch the Duelists'' Association! Not one of you could win against those guys in a one-on-one fight."


    "In the world of officers, the longsword has be a ceremonial sword used to embellish dress uniforms, and swordsmanship has be a threshold to distinguish officers'' origins."


    "Although we try our best to give you the feeling of actualbat, for you, longsword techniques have evolved from abat skill into a sporting activity. You must wonder if swordsmanship really matters. I can tell you now, it doesn''t matter."


    "Don''t think just because you''ve trained for many years and each of you is proficient with a sword, you can go out and conquer on the battlefield. Two peasants with pitchforks could take you down!" Nal''s swordsmanship ss was much more rxed and enjoyablepared to other cultural and military courses. This was the first time he had belittled his students, not sparing their feelings at all.


    "Because when you truly reach the battlefield and face death, even the noble knights who have been trained to fight from the moment they could walk might find themselves so nervous that their minds go nk and their limbs freeze, unable to move."


    "Although swordsmanship may not be of much significance to you anymore. But please remember what I''m about to say: if therees a day, at some point in the future when you really need to draw your weapons for self-defense."


    "No matter what you''re holding in your hand, be it a spear, a saber, a club, a hammer, or even if you have no weapons at all and are just bare-handed. Think of my words today, think of the swordsmanship training you''ve had over the years."


    "If you can recall even thirty percent of your ability from today, you might just save your life. If you can recall sixty percent of your ability, then there wouldn''t be many on the battlefield who could stand against you. The principles of martial arts are always interconnected, and many of the philosophies behind the longsword can be applied to other weapons as well."


    "The old Marshal always said, ''I fear those whose swordsmanship is versatile in practice but resort to wild chopping with brute force in actualbat''. That''s why he emphasized simple and direct attacks."


    "When that day truly arrives, I hope you will remember what I''ve said today. Don''t grip the hilt too tightly! Don''t let your arms be too stiff! Don''t just rush forward blindly, be agile in your steps! And think again about the swordsmanship training you''ve received!"


    Another cohort of students was about to leave the school, and Richard Nal, for once, was genuinely emotional, and each sentence spoke from the heart. Yet his students didn''t treasure this emotional disy, with most of them just thinking about rushing to have dinner.


    Young people despise the advice from their elders, mostly because a lot of the condescending advice truly is garbage content. But at the same time, they risk missing out on genuinely valuable experiences because of this attitude.


    It would take at least another decade, after they had been battered by the winds and rains of adulthood, for them to know which of the past teachings were nonsense and which were gems of wisdom.


    Only on that day, when they look back on today''s swordsmanship ss, will they understand the earnestness of Instructor Nal''s efforts. But now, they are just a bunch of kids who grew up sheltered in the Ivory Tower.


    After saying a lot in one go, regardless of whether his students took it in or not, Instructor Nal simply concluded the speech: "I''ve said my piece. Alright! Dismissed!"


    Instructor Nal pped his hands twice, giving themand: "Dismissed!"


    The students bowed in unison: "Goodbye, Instructor." They then ran out as one to return their training armor.


    The training room returned to silence and became empty once more.


    The young men who had sweated andughed freely here seemed like just a dream of this ssroom.

 Chapter 15: Chapter 8 Night Duty

    The swordsmanship ss at the Army Officer Academy was held twice a week, starting right after lunch. The duration of the ss depended on the time of the sunset.


    In summer, when the days were long and the nights short, the swordsmanship ssesst longer. In winter, as the darkness fell earlier, the sses were shorter. As a principle, students were given an hour to have dinner before dusk.


    This led to a problem: during the long summer days, the sun wouldn''t set until eight or nine o''clock. After eating lunch, the cadets would practice with their longswords, not getting to eat dinner until veryte. Therefore, by thest hour of swordsmanship ss in the summer, everyone was famished.


    After returning the training armor to the equipment room, Winters and Aike, carrying their longswords andbat clothing, didn''t even have time to change out of their cadet uniforms before they dashed at full speed to the cafeteria, beginning to gobble down food ravenously.


    By the time the two of them had finished eating and taken a quick shower, it was nearly eight o''clock when they got back to the cadet dormitory, and the sun was about to set.


    Lamps had been lit in the cadet dormitory, and Winters could see that those students whose homes were not in The Federated Provinces Republic¡ªnamely, those from Sea Blue Republic, Hignd Republic, Monta Republic, and Varn Republic¡ªhad already started to pack their bags, preparing to return home the next day.


    Aike was a local from Guidao City, just a walk away from home, so he wasn''t in a hurry. He grabbed a washbasin intending to wash hisbat clothes and saw Winters sprawled motionless on the bed.


    So he gave Winters'' back a hard smack and reminded him, "Are you going to sleep so early? Aren''t you going to pack your luggage?"


    "It''s fine; I can pack tomorrow, I don''t have much stuff anyway." Winters, full and struck by a fit of drowsiness, responded lethargically.


    Weariness, pain, and sleepiness assaulted Winters one after the other. At that moment, he didn''t even want to move a finger; all he wanted to do was sleep.


    "What about yourbat cloth? Aren''t you going to wash it? It''s all sweaty; if you leave it until tomorrow, won''t it stink?" Aike asked again with a frown, ncing at thebat cloth lying in a wooden basin by Winters'' bed.


    Winters weighed the options between "getting up to wash the clothes" and "continuing to sleep" and without any suspense, chose "continuing to sleep." He buried his face in the pillow and said, "Forget it, just toss it. I won''t wear it anymore anyway."


    "Didn''t you say you wanted to practice the longsword diligently once you got back to Sea Blue? And now you''re just going to throw away yourbat cloth? Besides, saying you''ll throw away such good clothes is incredibly wasteful, isn''t it?" Aike couldn''t help butugh at the attitude that preferred sleep over keeping clothes.


    However, Winters couldn''t hear Aike''s words anymore; the sound from Aike was going in one ear and out the other. Then suddenly, Winters remembered something very important¡ªsomething that meant he couldn''t sleep just yet.


    He sat bolt upright, startling Aike into stepping back. Winters frowned and said, "I just remembered, I have night watch duty tonight."


    He took a deep breath and let out a mournful howl from the depths of his chest, "Ah..."


    "You scared me. But aren''t you just going to sleep during your watch anyway?" Aike said, looking helpless.


    Winters quickly got up and dressed while Aike followed up from behind, asking, "What about your clothes then?"


    "No help for that, I won''t have time to wash them now. If you want them, they''re yours; if you don''t, whoever wants them can have them. If nobody wants them, just throw them away," Winters replied while hurriedly putting on his trousers. He then grabbed his jacket and hurried out of the dormitory while shrugging into it.


    The Army Officer School had three gates, each manned by two shifts a day. Each shift consisted of six people, two from each the first, second, and third years.


    The Army Officer School had three branches: Cavalry, Infantry, and Artillery, with each year''s poption fluctuating between fifty-five and sixty students. This meant that approximately once a month, each cadet would have to serve one day shift and one night shift on guard duty.


    Winters jogged all the way to the school''s north gate. The day guards hadn''t yet left, and the freshmen and sophomores who were to rece them were already waiting there.


    "Good evening, squad leader." The lower-year cadets saluted Winters one after another, which was a small tradition at the Army Officer Academy. During the freshmen''s introductory training, either a second-year or a third-year cadet would be assigned as their deputy squad leader or squad leader, leading them through training.


    So at the academy, it was customary for lower-year cadets to call anyone wearing more stripes than themselves "squad leader," whether they knew them or not.


    Winters casually returned the salute and hastened into the on-duty room to meet the other third-year cadet on night duty. He was a robust young man, just over 1.7 meters tall, with broad shoulders, a generous width of hand, and a wide mouth and nose under a pair of thick eyebrows andrge eyes.


    To Winters, his roommate''s physical characteristics signaled that he was a kind, unpretentious, and tolerant person. The young man saw Winters approaching, punched him lightly on the shoulder, and, grinning to reveal a double row of teeth, said, "You''re here."


    Winters flinched as he was hit where he had bruised during swordy that day and sucked in a breath of cool air in pain.


    "What''s wrong?" The young man didn''t understand how his light punch could provoke such a strong reaction from Winters.


    "Got hit hard on the shoulder during swordsmanship ss today¡ªno big deal," Winters said with a smile.


    "Was it the master who did it?" The young man understood instantly and responded with augh.


    Winters pulled over a chair, plopped down onto it with a casual air, and said proudly, "You didn''t see it today¡ªI actually scored seventeen points against Aike, got him so flustered. If I hadn''t been so worn out afterward, I would have ended Aike''s undefeated streak."


    "Really? You''re not bullshitting me?" the young man was surprised because scoring seventeen points against the master was only a notch below beating the master.


    "Why would I lie? There were so many people watching during the ss, you can ask anyone," Winters said confidently.


    The young man punched Winters lightly on the other shoulder and burst outughing, "Seventeen points! That''s impressive! Too bad, if you had won, we could have avenged the beatdowns we''ve gotten from the master over the years."


    Just then, a head peeked in at the door¡ªit was a first-year cadet. The junior saluted and said, "Squad leader, the duty instructor ising."


    Winters and the other quickly straightened their appearances and left the cadet duty office. Night watch duty is different from day watch. There is no patrol duty during day watch, and six people are on duty for the entire day, with each team taking a four-hour shift. You report to duty before your shift starts and you''re free to go once it''s over.


    But night watch duty is moreplicated, as it involves patrol duty. The routine for night watch is that each team stands watch for four hours, patrols for four hours, and sleeps for four hours. This ensures that at any given time, one team is on patrol, another is on watch, and the rest are sleeping.


    Since you can''t return to the dormitory to sleep during night watch, there are two small brick buildings constructed next to the main gate, on the inside of the perimeter wall, serving as the cadet and instructor duty offices, where those on night watch can rest. Those resting in the duty office also serve the function of being "ready to provide immediate support in case of emergency."


    Why is there an instructor''s rest room? Because the instructors also take turns on night watch. The school authorities believe that night duty isplicated, and students alone are not enough¡ªin the event of an emergency, it''s necessary to have an active duty officer present to ensure stability.


    In theory, everyone from the headmaster to the lecturers has the obligation to take night duty. But in practice, it''s the fresh, low-ranking, single instructors living in the staff dormitories who end up taking the shift.


    However, instructors don''t actually have to stand watch; they just need to sleep in the instructor''s rest room.


    The one who came was a short-armed weapons instructor, his face flushed red, his shirt unbuttoned down to the third button below the cor, clearly having had a drink. The two who hadn''t left day watch yet, plus the six on night watch¡ªa total of eight¡ªformed a horizontal line under Winters'' lead.


    Everyone braced themselves and stood at attention, while the instructor on duty nodded without expression¡ªno one was in a good mood on night duty¡ªand began to call roll.


    "Winters Montagne!"


    "Here!" Winters answered.


    "Gerard''s Bard!"


    "Here!" the solidly-built young man familiar with Winters replied¡ªthat was his name.


    Bard''s name was unusual because he had no surname. Gerard was his hometown, and calling him "Gerard''s Bard" was to distinguish him from any others named Bard.


    In this era,st names were a product of pragmatism, quite different from the orderly naming customs of "given name, surname, n name, courtesy name, and pseudonym" in the people of Silk Country at the time. Even emperors and kings a few hundred years back didn''t have "real surnames."


    Maybe one day Bard will take Gerard as hisst name, but for now, he''s just Bard, formally known as Gerard''s Bard.


    Then the instructor called the remaining names, dipped his quill pen in his mouth, and checked off each name on the attendance list.


    He then asked, "Are the weapons ounted for?" Winters had been too busy chatting with Bard to check the weapons. But Bard gave him a nudge, and Winters understood; it seemed Bard had done it.


    Now with confidence, Winters answered loudly, "Six halberds, six muskets, all ounted for."


    "Alright, dismissed! Call me if anythinges up." The duty instructor nodded and then went to the instructor''s rest room to sleep.


    The two cadets on day shift said their goodbyes and hurried back to the dormitory. Winters and Bard began theirst shift on night watch.

 Chapter 16: Chapter 9 School Management Enthusiasm

    Many rules in this world are well executed when they are first established, but as time goes by, they gradually lose their original vor. Just like when Marshal Ned Smith formted the "Night Regtions" for the Army Officers'' Academy, it stipted that all instructors, regardless of rank or position, must take turns at night duty.


    When Marshal Ned became Principal Ned, the rule was executed to the letter. Because Ned Smith was not the kind of man who only paid lip service, when he set a rule, he would truly bring a small nket to the instructors'' duty room to take the night shift. With him setting an example, everyone dutifully took their turn, and no one dared to shirk their responsibilities.


    But after Principal Ned stepped down, this regtion slowly evolved into the current "rule": those assigned to night duty were all newly employed, of low rank and single men living in staff dormitories. Not only had the instructors'' scheduling changed, but the way the students took their night duties also no longer followed the original design.


    The original n of each person standing guard for four hours, patrolling for four hours, and then catching up on four hours of sleep somehow changed so that third-year students could go into the duty room and fall asleep immediately, while the first and second-year students miserably stood guard for six hours and patrolled for six hours.


    So, before Winters was promoted to the third year, what he hated most was night duty. A great passion of Winters'' life was sleeping; he would be particrly irritable when he was sleep-deprived and would develop a strong self-destructive tendency.


    Thus, when Winters entered the third year, every time he was on night duty, he wouldy down in the student duty room and sleep soundly, feeling utterly justified, because in his view, he had already done his share of duty in the previous two years, and now it was his turn to sleep.


    It''s precisely this psychology of humans that allows so many tantly bullying and irrational rules to exist and persist in this world.


    Because these "bullying systems" all preserved a channel for advancement, a glimmer of hope, they promised those who were oppressed: "Just endure the pain now, and you will have your day sitting on top of others."


    The saying goes that as long as a daughter-inw doesn''t die, she will eventually be a mother-inw; junior single instructors will eventually be promoted and marry; lower grade officer cadets will eventually be upperssmen in the third year. Therefore, with a little hope in their hearts, everyone clenched their teeth and endured, waiting for their day to bully others.


    But they often failed to realize that the design of this "bully/victim perpetual motion machine" actually caused everyone to endure much more unnecessary pain.


    Enduring the torment of three "eight hours of duty, four hours of sleep" night shifts was not as much as enduring a single "grueling twelve-hour shift followed by a day of sses."


    A Silk Country sage named Treemanmented on this distorted system: "It takes a generation to endure the hard times of being bullied, yet be noble enough not to bully others, to break this cycle."


    This time on duty, Winters didn''t just dive into the student duty room and fall asleep as before; instead, he picked up a long halberd, ready to patrol. It wasn''t because Winters had an epiphany; he couldn''t possibly think that deeply at this stage. In fact, today was not his turn to be on duty; he had specifically swapped with someone else just to seek out Bard.


    Bard was also from The Federated Provinces of the Republic. Unlike Aike, however, his home was not in Guidao City, but in a small vige over a hundred kilometers away from the city''s west gate.


    The military of the Alliance Country¡ªor more precisely, The Federated Provinces of the Republic¡ªhad a fervent hobby of "running schools." This hobby was theoretically supposed to have been inherited from Marshal Ned, the man who started "cram schools," but it seemed to be somewhat different.


    Although the "Army Officers'' Academy" was there to train junior officers, this was clearly not enough to satisfy the educational fervor of The Federated Provinces of the Republic''s Army, so they set up the "Army Officer Preparatory School" to train cadets for the Army Officers'' Academy;


    Then, the "Army Junior School" was established to nurture cadets for the Army Officer Preparatory School.


    Winters entered the Army Junior School, Sea Blue branch school at the age of nine, and from there on embarked on a career path without choices.


    But do you think that was the end of it? Of course not. While other member countries of the Alliance only established junior schools, inside the territory of the Republic, the fanatical education enthusiasts went on to set up Army Enlightenment Schools to cultivate students for the Army Junior Schools.


    If this endless nesting trend continues, one day we will surely see the advent of Army Kindergartens, Army Early Education sses, and Army Prenatal Education sses across thends of the Federated Provinces of the Republic.


    This strange concept of training officers seemingly right from the womb led to a situation: although in theory, the Army Officers'' Academy''s enrolment requirements never included "must be a graduate of the Army Preparatory School", and although the Army Officers'' Academy held unconditional entrance exams every year to recruit students from the Alliance, there were hardly any non-preparatory school graduates who could pass the tests; a single interview would block most external candidates.


    The interviewers believed themselves absolutely unbiased, dering that the "external candidates were far toocking" and cked the slightest military bearing." However, they never considered that external candidates were not military to begin with, so how could they possiblypare with cadets who hade all the way up from the Junior Schools in terms of military bearing?


    In any case, no matter the process, the end result was that the majority of cadets in the military academy were internal promotions, while external entrants were incredibly rare.


    People did not yet know whether this phenomenon was good or bad, nor did they know what impact it would have on the future of the Republic and even the entire Gulf Alliance. What would happen in the future? Who could guess? Let''s return to the subject of Bard.


    There are always some people in this world that can win your trust the very first time you meet them; Bard was one of those people.


    His appearance was not threatening, with broad shoulders,rge hands, a wide mouth and broad nose, and his slight strabismus made him appear naive.


    He spoke slowly and his voice was slightly hoarse, his thick lips always tinged with a hint of a smile. He was good-natured, and only when he was hungry would his temper worsen.


    Upon entrance, the school provided each student with a set of summer and winter uniforms. Wealthy students would have tailors make several sets for change. Bard had only one set, but he washed it diligently every day.


    Among the young people keen on dressing up, he wore his uniform that had been washed to the point of fading but was clean and neat without a trace of embarrassment on his face. So, when you saw him for the first time, you''d know he was a reliable person.


    A wise man from the East once said, "Those who find contentment in moderation do not know that the sustenance of body and mouth is inferior to others." Winters did not know whether Bard had truly reached the state of equanimity described by the Eastern sage or was just trying hard to appearposed and self-assured.


    But Winters did not want to guess or investigate because whether it was the former or thetter, it meant that Bard was a person with great self-respect, and Winters respected those with self-respect.

 Chapter 17: Chapter 10 External Admission

    Bard was one of only three externally enrolled students in Winters''s cohort of officer candidates, and he was probably the most formidable among them.


    Most external enrollments at the Army Officer Academy were for the artillery branch, granting exceptions to those with mathematical talent. Yet, Bard was studying Cavalry, and before him, the Cavalry department had not had an externally enrolled student for six whole years.


    When the Federated Provinces were still the domain of the Duke of Montefronte, starting with Bard''s grandfather, their family made a living by breeding horses for the House of Earl Menai, from the time of the old Earl to his grandson''s inheritance of the title.


    Whenever they had time, Bard''s grandfather would take his two sons to tend to the family''s dozen or so acres ofnd. Life was tough, but there was no worry ofcking food and clothes.


    But Bard''s family could never have dreamed of the outbreak of the Sovereignty War. Bard''s grandfather and father didn''t understand why the city folks suddenly wanted to rebel against the Emperor; after all, to them, the Emperor seemed a far and distant figure. In Bard''s family''s eyes, their life was calm and well-provided for, and they never imagined this way of life being disrupted.


    As the Galleon Sect began destroying monasteries everywhere, Bard''s family had a faint premonition of the storm toe. Yet for three generations, as dutiful coachmen who bred horses for the Earl, there was nothing they could do but to continue feeding the Earl''s horses.


    When the first revolt in Guidao City happened, and the militia took control of the city,


    Bard''s family was feeding the Earl''s horses, while the Earl held his troops back because he was not pro-imperial;


    When the first uprising in Guidao City was suppressed and the army of the Emperor-appointed Governor entered the city,


    Bard''s family was feeding the Earl''s horses, and the Earl held his troops back because he did not support the militia either;


    When the second revolt in Guidao City happened, with militia inside and outside the city coborating to breach Guidao City and trap the Governor in the castle,


    Bard''s family was feeding the Earl''s horses, while the Earl continued to hold his troops back, choosing to wait and see;


    When the second suppression of Guidao City failed, and after the Battle of the Golden Saddle, the pro-imperial nobles of the Duke of Montefronte were entirely wiped out,


    Bard''s family was feeding the Earl''s horses, while the Earl still held back his forces, intending to observe further;


    Finally, the Emperor unleashed his fierce hound, Duke Arlian, who dered that all nobles who had survived the Battle of the Golden Saddle were traitors. He led his mountain militia through the Duke of Montefronte''s domain, turning it into rivers of blood;


    Bard''s family was feeding the Earl''s... oh, there was no need to feed the horses this time. Because all the horses had been taken by Earl Menai to war. The fence-sitting nobles of the Duke of Montefronte''s domain could no longer sit idly by.


    Bard''s family switched to feeding the Earl''s cattle, sheep, and poultry.


    After Duke Arlian''s defeat and subsequent suicide, Bard''s family thought they could finally go back to feeding horses for the Earl.


    But what Bard''s family did not expect was that the militia and the anti-monarchist noble army, who had fought side by side just moments ago, began to turn on each other once more.


    The knights d in helm and te patrolled the royal roads, executing all suspicious passersby without trial, to intercept messengers who were connecting the insurgents of various cities;


    Lone swordsmen wandered the forest paths, their longswords and matchlock guns wrapped in oiled cloth on their backs, lying in wait to assassinate any noble they could find.


    The war within the Duke''snds in front of the mountains finally ended with the victory of the militia, and no new Duke was elected. Henceforth, thisnd was renamed the "Republic in front of the Mountains" (also known as The Federated Provinces Republic).


    Bard''s family no longer needed to worry about when they could go back to feed horses for the Earl because the militia''s des were quicker and more ruthless than those of Duke Arling.


    There was no longer an Earl of Menai, as the entire family of the Earl of Menai had been ughtered. The Federated Provinces Republic would no longer fall into the hands of the nobility, for there were no living nobles left in The Federated Provinces who dared to im their titles.


    The Bard family thought it was all over: even though they could no longer feed horses for the Earl, at least they could go back and tend to their little plot ofnd.


    What the Bard family did not expect was Richard IV leading a campaign of all the major and minor lords of the entire Empire. And this was no longer just about The Federated Provinces Republic, the Royal Sea Bluends, the Hignd Duke''snds... The whole Gulf Region was being dragged into this.


    The originally Earl of Menai''s domain, now Menai Province, was once again ravaged. Crops not yet ripe were trampled and burned, and fleeing soldiers were more terrifying than bandits. In the chaos, Bard''s father lost his own father, brother, sister, and all his children.


    The Bard family waspletely bankrupt, with a small piece ofnd but no food. Out of desperation, Bard''s father mortgaged their small plot to the Green Heart Monastery nearby, and the couple sought protection from the Monastery, bing tenant farmers there.


    The Sovereignty Wars came to a definitive end, the Emperor withdrew his troops, and after the Gulf Alliance gained full sovereignty, the couple gave birth to Bard.


    For Bard''s parents, the life of tenant farmers offered no prospects; the farmers could barely feed themselves, doomed never to save enough money to redeem theirnd. Thus, the only hope for Bard''s parents was for Bard to be a monk at the Monastery.


    But a monk is an officially registered cleric, and Bard''s parents wanted Bard to be a monk? They could wish for it, of course, but it was impossible.


    Because the Monastery would not ept a young man who had nothing. To be a monk, one must bring a contribution to the Monastery. The Monastery weed those "brothers" who came with deeds and precious metals.


    From the time he could remember, Bard served as a servant in the Monastery, initially responsible for lowly jobs like cleaning toilets. He was diligent, careful in his work, and tight-lipped.


    So, he quickly escaped the lowest menial work and began to take charge of cleaning the Monastery''s scriptorium and library. A kind monk taught him how to read and write in Old Language, and through an Old/Ancient Language dictionary Bard taught himself Ancient Language.


    Ever since he could read, Bard spent all his free time in the Green Heart Monastery''s library. He read a vast number of ancient texts and materials preserved by the Monastery, teaching himself the Ancient Empire schrs'' "Mathematics," "Principles of Geometry," and the Flemish "Medicine Canon."


    Meanwhile, his status within the Monastery kept rising: from cleaning the library to specializing in the cleaning of precious relics and holy vessels, and then he became the personal servant to the head of the Monastery, helping the abbot with the ounts.


    But the more Bard learned about the Monastery, the clearer it became that there was no possible way for him to be a monk, nor did he wish to spend his life as a tenant farmer or servant. By chance, Bard learned from a visitor to the Monastery about the Military Academy, and that there were no conditions for applying to the Army Officer School.


    So, at the age of 16, Bard decided to take a chance. With six small silver coins and three pieces of ck bread, he left his home in Gerard Vige and walked a hundred kilometers to reach Guidao City.


    Thanks to his ancestral horsemanship skills and outstanding scores in cultural subjects, Bard miraculously gained admission to the Cavalry branch of the Military Academy, and he became the only off-campus student in six years to enter the Cavalry.


    Bard and Winters met in the equine studies ss (equine studies and horsemanship were two separate courses). In horsemanship, Bard wasn''t as good as Winters, but when it came to caring for horses, Winters couldn''t hold a candle to Bard.


    When they first met, Winters only admired Bard''s skills in horse husbandry. But as they got to know each other better, Winters increasingly recognized virtues in Bard he didn''t possess, such as being gentle and never losing his temper.


    Winters,cking these qualities, unconsciously gravitated towards people who possessed them. And Winters''s friendship, free from any sense of condescension, wasfortable for Bard. In time, the two became very close friends.

 Chapter 18: Chapter 11 Graduation package distribution, is there such a good thing? (Part 1)

    After taking over the shift, Winters and Bard carried their long halberds and patrolled along the military academy''s perimeter wall. They didn''t bring muskets because muskets were far too heavypared to halberds.


    Moreover, without gunpowder and bullets, a musket was nothing but decoration. If it were up to Winters, he wouldn''t even want to carry this halberd.


    The military academy was no treasure vault; the Army Officer''s Military Academy could be described as extremely poor. The army''s educational philosophy was always to save wherever possible, taking the saved money to establish even more schools.


    In such a ce so poor that even a mouse would cry upon entering, it was also filled with strong and vigorous young men.


    Thieves had no business there, let alone ghosts who would also stay clear.


    For the school authorities, the primary purpose of night patrols was to prevent the asional student from sneaking out after hours. But catching a couple of students trying to sneak out of the dormitory didn''t require weapons. Also, having students catch their peers wasn''t very reliable; Winters himself had slipped out to y multiple times while his ssmates stood night watch, returning in the middle of the night. And every time, he walked out through the main gate without the need to climb over any walls.


    After ambling around for a while, night had fully fallen, and lights-out time had passed. The military academy at night had bid farewell to the daytime''s hustle and bustle, and the silent school shrouded in darkness was like a wild beast lurking in the shadows. Winters often felt this way on night patrol: the academy at night wasn''t an inanimate object; it was constantly breathing rhythmically.


    The nearby neighborhoods, like the military academy, had entered slumber. Only the distant port area was still awake, where they could vaguely see specks of light. That was the territory of revelers and service industry workers still seeking entertainment.


    Outside the military academy walls, close to the residential area, there were a few simple stone tables. The tables were shaded by several broad-leaf trees which provided shelter from the sun on clear days and from the rain. These stone tables were put up by the neighborhood''s residents, who usually set up stalls on them to do business with officer students.


    Seeing those stone tables, Winters thought about resting for a while and suggested to Bard, pointing, "Let''s go sit there for a bit."


    "Sure, let''s sit for a bit. I wanted to have a smoke anyway," Bard agreed, noticing that Winters didn''t want to move anymore.


    The wind tonight was a bit strong, blowing from the direction of the sea onto thend. It brought a lot of moisture, and the skies above Guidao City were already obscured by clouds. The moonlight, weakened after passing through the clouds, barely improved the walkability of the pathpared to a night with no moon at all.


    Winters, recalling his geography lessons, frowned and said, "Looking at this wind direction and cloud cover, it might rain tomorrow."


    Rain wasn''t good news for someone about to embark on a journey home.


    As they sat down at the stone table, the wind blowing in from the sea dried the sweat on their bodies and took away a significant amount of their surface heat. The daytime''s dry heat had disappeared, leaving a cool night.


    From his small shoulder bag, Bard pulled out an old pipe. First, he packed it with some shredded tobo leaves, then he pressed it down, and repeated this "packing and pressing" process two more times.


    Once Bard had finished packing the tobo, Winters''s left hand held a gesture with his thumb pressing down on his index finger and used a fire-starting spell to light the tobo in Bard''s pipe bowl. This was one of the little perks of being a friend of a spellcaster; with Winters around, Bard never had to worry about finding a light for his smoke.


    "Aike was saying today how he envies me, but if he finds out that the greatest benefit of being a spellcaster is the convenience of lighting a smoke, I wonder if he''d still speak enviously," Winters thought to himself with a touch of self-mockery.


    In that era, a significant portion of men were either smokers or alcoholics, with many possessing both identities. In a timecking in entertainment options, many who did not smoke or drink didn''t abstain out of choice, but because they couldn''t afford it.


    However, Winters neither smoked nor drank, and he refused to try any potentially addictive stimnts. This was because Antoine-Laurent believed that these addictive "poisons" would corrode a Spellcaster''s will, numb their perception, and destroy their Spellcasting abilities. Winters regarded General Antoine-Laurent as a god; he always took Antoine-Laurent''s words as the absolute truth and thus resolutely avoided such things.


    Seeing Bard draw afortable puff of smoke and then exhale leisurely, Winters finally decided to ask a question that had been weighing on him. He asked Bard with concern, "Have you found out where you''re going to be assigned?"


    Under the dim light of the fire, Bard''s expression remained unchanged, unaffected by Winters'' question.


    "I didn''t inquire," Bard answered calmly after taking a puff of his cigarette, "but it''s easy to guess even without asking ¨C it''ll just be an overseas deployment."


    After this statement, Bard continued to focus on smoking, an activity that harmed his health but which he seemingly enjoyed, appearing totally unconcerned about being sent overseas by the military.


    "An overseas deployment is not such an easy matter," Bard spoke casually, but his words rmed Winters instantly.


    Yet Bard smiled at Winters as if to say "it''s nothing" and continued to quietly smoke his cigarette.


    Winters nced at Bard, then at the nighttime cityscape of Guidao City, and finally at the sleeping school, before he sighed helplessly. Although Bard himself did not seem to pity his situation, Winters felt distressed for him.


    An overseas deployment, in the strict sense, referred to military academy graduates being sent to major and minor nodes along sea trade routes. The two closest destinations from the mothend were the Holy Rome Empire and the Freeman Empire, both of which had world-renowned capital cities where the Alliance had constes. Serving as a military officer in the constes of these morous worlds was a coveted easy job.


    However, the "overseas deployment" that Winters and Bard referred to was obviously not such a desirable assignment; they meant deployment to ces that were both further and more dangerous.


    Tomorrow, Winters would start his journey home. He would be interning for a year in his ancestral Sea Blue Republic. Next year at this time, Winters would have to return to school. Because, strictly speaking, he hadn''t truly graduated yet; this year, he was just interning with the rank of Acting Ensign.


    But for those assigned an overseas deployment, once they boarded the ship bound overseas, they could kiss the idea of returning home goodbye. They wouldn''t even be able to attend the graduation ceremony next year, because the time spent on the round trip alone would exceed a year.


    In name, the officers dispatched to the various trade points were there to protect the Alliance''s overseas interests, but oftentimes they were justmanders without soldiers. With no troops or power, they naturally had no chance of distinguishing themselves. The only ways to return home were either in a coffin or after retirement.


    To understand why Bard was targeted for overseas deployment while Winters was not, one must understand the officer assignment system of the Army Military Academy. To understand the assignment system of the Army Military Academy, one needs to start from the beginning of its establishment.


    One of the objectives of the old marshal in founding this military academy was to bridge the gaps between the member states of the Alliance Country, especially the divisions between their militaries.


    Because the Alliance Country is not strictly a "nation" but an "alliance," its full name is the Senas Republic Alliance. The political environment of the Alliance could be described with the ssic saying of former Alliance Country State Secretary Humphrey: "Nation? Are we even a (expletive) nation? Aren''t we just five primitive tribes with mutual animosity?"

 Chapter 19: Chapter 12 Graduation package distribution, is there such a good thing? (Part 2)

    ```


    Indeed, as he said, the Alliance government had no real authority to speak of. The five member states within the Alliance governed themselves, each possessing independent personnel authority, their own fiscal budgets, and armies. The only major power they delegated to the official Alliance was foreign affairs, along with a few inconsequential privileges such as the "right to decide the Alliance''s national anthem" and the "right to decide the Alliance''s g."


    The various departments of the Alliance government sounded impressive, with names like the Alliance Army Committee, the Alliance Finance Committee, and the Alliance Judiciary Committee. But, in reality, they were nothing more than figureheads,pletely decorative.


    This fragmented state of the Alliance began the moment the United Provincials started their rebellion. Starting with the Guidao City riots thirty-odd years ago which set off the Sovereignty Wars, all the way to the end of the Emperor''s retreat from war twenty-six years ago, no Anti-Emperor factional military in the Gulf Region wanted to be led by another.


    The United Provincials'' militia would not eptmand from Sea Blue opportunists, and the Sea Blue militia would not ept orders from the United Provincials'' yokels. While the Anti-Emperor factional nobles were keen on usurping power every day, aiming to takemand over all the military forces, they had no attention from the militia.


    The various Anti-Emperor factional forces were mostly independent of one another, fighting their own battles most of the time. In the end, under the military pressure of the Emperor and the charismatic appeal of the old marshal, they were forged into a single army under themand of the old marshal to fight the Emperor.


    As soon as the fighting was over, everybody disbanded. Armies from the Federated Provinces Republic, Sea Blue Republic, and Hignd Republic went home and transformed into the regr armies of their respective states. The newly established Monta Republic and Van Republic, which were carved from the Empire during the Sovereignty Wars, also created independent army departments.


    The old marshal was acutely aware of the dangers that such army allegiances to the member states posed to the internal peace of the Alliance, but he was powerless to change the reality of the member states harboring their own agendas. Thus, the old marshal believed that if it was not possible to unite the armies of the member states at present, the only hopey in the future.


    It was important to facilitatemunication and understanding among the military factions of the member states;ck ofmunication could lead to misunderstandings, and misunderstandings could lead to bloodshed. Most importantly, it was crucial to cultivate the youth, to ensure that the younger generation of military officers from the member states would not view each other with the same hostility as their predecessors, and to foster friendships among them.


    When these young people became the mainstays and leaders of the armed forces in their respective member states, the differences would naturally be bridged, and the integration of the member states'' armies would seamlessly ur.


    Thus, the old marshal voluntarily resigned from his military position to focus on establishing the Army Officer Academy. The management rights of the academy were nominally tethered to the defunct head offices of the Provincial Army, with the old marshal serving personally as the first principal, ensuring impartiality. This prevented any bias toward the Federated Provinces Republic just because the school was located in Guidao City.


    His original n was for the five member states to each take 10 cadets per year per field of study, totaling 150 cadets per level, who would be randomly assigned to the armies of the various member states upon graduation.


    This move of "mixing sand" faced strong resistance from the armies of the member states. The Sea Blue military was the first to stand in opposition; they adamantly refused to send their best prospects to other member states and rejected officers from other member states joining the Sea Blue military. On this point, the militaries of the member states rarely found consensus.


    With no other choice, the old marshal had to put aside the concept of "having a bit of you in me, and a bit of me in you" for the time being, only retaining a use in the school''s constitution that stated, "When conditions permit, the graduates'' post-graduation cements should be reasonably allocated without discrimination based on their origin," with the hope that one day the member states could amicably apply this provision.


    Therefore, the graduates of the Army Officer Academy returned to where they came from. For example, students from the Sea Blue Republic, like Winters, would return to serve in the Sea Blue Army after graduation.


    This was the old marshal''s n, and though it did not seem very effective, at least today, twenty-six yearster, the armies of the member states were still acting independently.


    Nheless, it did have some effect. The officer cadets were indoctrinated with the ideology of greater Alliance unity for several years. Even if they did not support it, at the very least, they were sympathetic toward it. Take Winters as an example; he was an advocate for the ideology of greater Alliance unity, albeit more in spirit than in practice.


    ```


    But still, as the saying goes, ns cannot keep up with changes, and the situation shifted after the old marshal stepped down. The Alliance''s influence stretched beyond the ocean, and they began to possess more overseas interests.


    Overseas trade points needed protection, and the military required reliable representatives abroad, so an overseas deployment option was added to the list of possible assignments for graduates.


    At this time, the fixed number of 150 cadets each year was definitely not enough, and no member state''s military would ept their children being sent overseas. Therefore, the Military Academy expanded its enrollment, increasing each subject''s intake by 5 to 10 additional cadets, bringing Winters'' ss to 172 cadets.


    By then, actual control of the Military Academy had fallen into the hands of the Army Department of the United Provincials. Naturally, the United Provincials military was not as fair and impartial as the old marshal, so all the expanded enrollment spots were filled by cadets from the United Provincials.


    The United Provincials military also used the expansion as a pretext to change the graduate allocation policy. Each member state still sent 30 cadets yearly, but when it was time to return, there would be 32 or 33. The United Provincials took this opportunity to mix their own into the armies of the other member states.


    Clearly, cadets from the United Provincials would not receive favorable treatment in other member states. Butpared to overseas deployment, going to another member state was still an excellent destination.


    At least going to another member state meant staying within the Alliance''s territory; but an overseas posting was standing to sail out and lying to return. In this era, when even a fever or cold could im lives, traveling to and rife with unfamiliar epidemics was a high-risk endeavor.


    Therefore, when the practicum season arrived, the concern that upied the cadets from the United Provincials the most was where they would be assigned¡ªback to the United Provincials'' homnd, to another member state, or to an overseas deployment?


    Cadets from the member states had no worries, since they would return to where they came from;


    Nor did cadets from the United Provincials with deep family connections worry, for their elders would never let them be sent to a member state or overseas;


    But the unprivilegedmoner cadets from the United Provincials had to seek connections and beg at every door just to stay in the United Provincials'' homnd. If not, going to a member state was eptable. Absolutely not overseas, for that would be a road to certain death.


    Bard''s parents were tenant farmers, and they were of no help in this decision that would determine his life''s path. Winters wrote to his own uncle without telling Bard. Winters'' uncle served in the Sea Blue military, and Winters hoped he could help.


    But how could the Sea Blue military intervene when the Provincial Army was allocating its own cadets? Winters'' uncle replied, telling Winters that given the current rtionship between the Provincial Army and the Sea Blue military, if he asked for somebody, the Provincial Army would not hesitate to send Bard overseas instead.


    Therefore, regarding this matter, Bard could only wait for others to decide his fate, and Winters could only stand by, watching anxiously.


    Graduation assignments were not all good news, after all.

 Chapter 20: Chapter 13 Sudden Incident (Part 1)

    "With your excellent scores in the cultural sses, you shouldn''t be sent overseas," Winters persisted, still harboring a sliver of hope that Bard would stay in the homnd.


    "I applied for an overseas dispatch myself," Bard said calmly, delivering a sentence that shocked Winters.


    "What!" Winters stood up startled, looking down at Bard, not understanding why he would choose to walk into the jaws of death, and all the words in his heart culminated into one: "Why?"


    "It''s okay, being sent overseas isn''t as bad as you think," Bard, pulling Winters by his clothes to sit him down, said, "Sit down, and let me exin it to you slowly."


    "You know the situation of my family," Bard began, speaking unhurriedly from the perspective of his family background.


    "Yes," Winters nodded, aware that this was a sensitive topic. He knew that both of Bard''s parents were tenant farmers at the Monastery.


    "My parents are tenant farmers, and they are both hardworking and devout people, I am proud of them," Bard said, his tone soft yet solemn.


    "I know," Winters nodded again, believing that a person''s worth shouldn''t be judged by the volume of their wealth.


    "So, while others were going around giving gifts and pleading for favors, I didn''t. Not because I didn''t want to but because I didn''t have the money to grease the wheels and make connections," Bard stated his reality with a calm that bordered on cruelty.


    In his tone, there was no resentment, "Not having money isn''t my parents'' fault; giving gifts with money isn''t others'' fault either. That''s the reality of this world¡ªI may not be satisfied, but I can only ept it. So, my going overseas was an inevitable oue."


    "But even if you can''t stay in The Federated Provinces, you could still have a good chance of going to an affiliated country. Assignments don''t just depend on money!" Winters still couldn''t ept that Bard had abandoned hope and applied for overseas dispatch on his own.


    "I''m not so outstanding that I can ignore the influence of money, nor am I a Spellcaster," Bard continued to reveal his wounds, "In fact, even those who have spent money to work the system have many who are still assigned overseas. What about me? There always has to be a group sent overseas."


    "But you can''t give up hope! There''s always a chance; you can''t just resign yourself to fate!" Winters couldn''t deny Bard''s harsh truth but believed there was still a chance and one should not give up.


    "I''m not resigning myself to fate, I am actually fighting against it. Ever since I walked out of the Monastery, I''ve been battling fate, and this time I don''t want to wait for others to decide my fate," Bard said decisively, "I don''t have the freedom not to go overseas, I ept that. But at the very least, I want to have the freedom to choose where overseas."


    "After all, there are various destinations for overseas dispatch," Bard added with a faint smile, returning to his measured pace, "If I cling to a slim hope, in the end, I would only be sent to the worst ce overseas. By actively applying to go, at least I still have a choice."


    Under the faint light of the moon and the Ignition Spell in his pipe, Bard''s expression was calm and resolute. Winters knew Bard had his reasons for applying for overseas dispatch, but he now felt those reasons were too cruel.


    Yet Winters had to admit that Bard was right; his decision was the best solution in the worst situation. But his chest felt tight, filled with frustration, suffocation, and a sense of powerlessness.


    Winters copsed onto the stone table, the multitude of words that had reached his lips swallowed back down. Was there any point in cursing those officers who epted bribes? Was it useful to berate those ssmates who gave gifts and pleaded? In the end, Bard was still going overseas, and Winters could only let out a long, powerless sigh.


    "Don''t feel sorry for me. Being able to go from a servant at the Monastery to a cadet at the Military Academy, I''m already more than satisfied," Bard described his future life as an overseas military officer with an upbeat and pleasant tone, "Going overseas is a good thing. I''ve heard that the sry for overseas dispatch is three times what it is at home. Staying here, I can''t even afford a uniform, but overseas, I reckon I''ll quickly save up a bit of money to help my parents redeem theirnd."


    "Damn it!" Winters yelled into the night sky, waking several guard dogs in the nearby houses. Bard''s optimism only made him feel sadder. It was true that overseas dispatch-paid well, but it was money earned in exchange for risking one''s life.


    Bard patted Winters on the leg, signaling that he understood everything, and the two fell back into silence. The only sounds were the chirping of insects, the barking of dogs, and the sputtering of Bard''s smoking.


    After a little while, footsteps suddenly approached from nearby, and a teasing voice reached the ears of Winters and Bard.


    "Well, look at you two, hiding here and smoking instead of patrolling the night watch. Were you the ones howling just now?"


    Out of the darkness, two students wielding long halberds emerged, one after the other, the one in front muttering as he walked, "Why the hell were you two howling in the dead of night? Come on, give me a light..."


    They were two second-year students on night duty at another gate, who had heard Winters'' earlier shout during their patrol and came over to see what was going on, hoping to get a light for their smokes.


    When they got up close to Winters and Bard, they noticed the three stripes on the sleeve of Bard''s summer uniform and realized the two men hiding here smoking were their seniors.


    The military academy''s structure is a mimicry of the army''s structure, and the army''s hierarchy is also the academy''s. Realizing they had run into their seniors, the two second-year students quickly apologized, "Sorry, squad leader. We didn''t know you were on patrol."


    Winters was in a bad mood and could not be bothered with them.


    But Bard, ever generous, waved them over. He didn''t give them a dressing down, and even tried to help them light their smokes. However, Bard''s cigarette was almost finished, and he couldn''t get the tobo in their pipes to catch.


    With a long sigh, Winters reluctantly took the pipes from Bard''s hands and used the Ignition Spell to light the shredded tobo inside their bowls. He was adept at this, but the two juniors had probably never in their lives had a Spellcaster use magic to light their cigarettes for them, and their eyes were wide with amazement.


    "Let''s go," Winters said irritably as he shoved the pipes back into the hands of the juniors. Thankful, they scampered away hastily.


    The two of them were also wondering what had gotten into the two third-year squad leaders, not resting in the duty room and instead wandering about on patrol.


    After the juniors had left, Bard also stood up and straightened his clothes. Feeling he had rested enough, he said to Winters, "Let''s go, we should make a few more rounds, so the juniors won''tugh at us for doing nothing but skiving off."


    Wintersy on the stone table, legs dangling idly in the air. He was in no mood for patrolling, so he said to Bard, "Let''s sit for a while longer, and then head back to the duty room to sleep. It''s ourst night, no more patrols."


    "You rest here for a while longer," Bard said, knowing better than to press Winters. He wanted to have onest look at the school, "Last duty shift, won''t get another chance toe back to the academy for night watch. I''ll take another few rounds ande back for youter."


    With that, Bard, carrying his long halberd, walked away. Bard''s footsteps grew more distant, and Winters said nothing. He was deeply affected because Bard would soon be dispatched overseas. He was nowing to grips with the possibility that he might never again see his good friend Bard after tomorrow.


    Hey back on the stone table, listening to the sounds of the insects around him, his mind feeling empty.


    After a while, the sound of footsteps returned. Hearing Bard hade back, Winters felt it pointless to lie there, thinking he might as well join Bard for another couple of rounds around the academy.


    So he straightened up and sat on the stone table, smiling and about to speak to Bard... Wait! The person approaching wasn''t Bard!

 Chapter 21: Chapter 14 Sudden Incident (Part 2)

    The approaching figure was dressed in the military academy''s summer uniform, but this person was slim and of a different buildpared to Bard. Winters recognized at a nce that this was not Bard. Moreover, this person was not carrying weapons like halberds, indicating they were not a student on night duty.


    Caught someone sneaking out of bed! Winters couldn''t believe his eyes. It was such a coincidence that the patrolling person hadn''t caught the student breaking curfew, but he, the one ying hooky, had caught one.


    The person Winters stopped was also stunned; they had chosen to run from this spot only after seeing the patrol walk away. Little did they expect that half of a body would suddenly sit up from the dark stone table at the side of the road, almost like encountering a ghost.


    "You! What grade are you in?!" Winters''s belly was on fire, his tone extremely harsh.


    Unexpectedly, the person across him who wanted to sneak out didn''t respond at all. They ducked and ran past Winters, heading straight for the residential area.


    Winters was momentarily too shocked to react; it took him a moment to realize the little rascal had actually run away.


    Caught sneaking out by the squad leader, and instead of properly admitting their error and begging for mercy, they dared to run away?!


    This ignited Winters''s fury so much that he chased after them, cursing as he ran, "What the hell are you running for? Do you think you can escape?"


    Winters, being taller and more agile, had the edge in this footrace. Despite the head start the curfew breaker gained, they couldn''t outrun Winters. Barely thirty meters in, Winters had caught up to them.


    "Can you outrun the monks, let alone the Monastery?" Winters bellowed, grabbed the person''s shoulder from behind, and with a strong pull, brought them to the ground.


    But it wasn''t until he grabbed the person''s shoulder that Winters realized something was off: this person wore a hooded cloak over their face, had slim and soft shoulders, was too light to be a man, and fell over with just a tug... No! This was a woman! There are no female students at the military school! She was a thief!


    The female thief grunted from the rough fall caused by Winters''s tug.


    While it was a thief he had thrown to the ground, Winters still felt a pang of guilt for knocking over a woman.


    But in the next instant, the female thief got up swiftly, silent as a shadow, drawing a dagger that glittered with the cold light. She gave Winters no time to react, pouncing on him like a leopard, aiming the dagger straight at his chest.


    Although Winters had the advantages of height, weight, and strength, he was takenpletely by surprise by this woman.


    Winters was utterly shocked that this woman would attempt to kill him without a word, dagger aimed straight for his heart. Astonished, he thought: Was tossing you over really a reason for a deadly attack?


    The instincts honed from years of practicing swordsmanship saved Winters. Subconsciously, he swung his right arm and deflected the dagger, which missed his chest but left a deep cut on the outside of his right upper arm.


    Immediately after, the woman''s shoulder mmed hard against Winters''s chest, knocking him off bnce and to the ground. But the relentless woman pressed her full weight onto the dagger, stabbing violently towards Winters''s neck.


    Ignoring the intense pain from the knife wound on his right arm, Winters crossed his hands and mped onto the woman''s arms. This was the preliminary move of a grappling technique, setting him up to twist the dagger away.


    But Winters was merely acting on instinct, forgetting all techniques in his desperation, only blindly pushing the woman away with brute force.


    However, in the moment of standoff between the two, Winters had a sh of inspiration, recalling what Aike had said during the day: "If you can use magic to singe off arm hair, then you can also use magic to ignite hair."


    So without even the time to perform the casting gesture, he went straight into casting mode. Enduring the intense pressure and stinging pain, he poured all his might into the Ignition Spell, channeling his magical energy into the exposed hair of the woman sitting astride him.


    First came smoke, then a spark of me, and then the woman''s hair burst into fire from Winters''s magical Ignition Spell, her hood following suit, her head aze like a torch.


    The female assassin hadn''t realized her hair was alight until after the initial sparksted for more than a second; only then did she smell the burning scent and feel the sharp pain of the mes searing her skin.


    The woman, who had been silent and straight for Winters''s life a second earlier, now screamed and leapt off him, whipping off her hood and frantically batting at her burning hair.


    With the immediate threat to his life subsided, Winters couldn''t yet focus on pursuing this murderous woman. He struggled to his feet, fumbling for the whistle issued to students on night patrol, and blew it with all the air in his cheeks.


    It was not the sentry''s duty to eliminate invaders, but to signal an alert torades in time.


    The piercing whistle shattered the silence of the night; with it, Winters notified Bard and the other students on duty about the situation, hoping they woulde to his aid quickly. Despite his opponent being a woman with far less strength and weight, her deadly and ruthless tactics still unnerved him.


    This woman struck to kill without blinking, attacking with no hint of hesitation. Facing such a ruthless killer unarmed, Winters truly felt uneasy.


    The woman, hearing the whistles, ran into the alley of the residential area without fully extinguishing the mes on her head. Winters followed closely behind, only to find the woman flinging her dagger at him as she turned her head.


    Winters quickly dodged; the dagger just missed him by the width of a finger. He had narrowly avoided having another gash to bleed from.


    Winters continued the chase, but after a few steps, severe pain shot through the sole of his foot as if something sharp had pierced it.


    Unable to continue running, Winters, gasping for breath, fumbled to pull a metal object from the sole of his shoe and only then realized what had happened when he saw it up close.


    It turned out the woman had scattered metal caltrops along the way at some point, and he had stepped on one, causing his foot to be injured.


    After several setbacks, Winters was now close to madness due to this troublesome woman.


    When he looked up again, the woman with mes in her hair had disappeared into the pitch-ck alley.


    The residential area''s alleys were not the result of nned design but merely gaps left when the houses were built, twisting and turning, extending in all directions.


    Winters knew that once the woman entered the alleys, there was no chance of catching her. He also worried about walking into an ambush by her, so he had no choice but to give up the pursuit.


    A random thought crossed his mind: This woman is utterly immoral. Didn''t she realize that the nearby residents might also step on these when they pass by here tomorrow?


    He didn''t understand why he was even concerned about the living quality of the nearby residents, as their plight could not be worse than his current situation.


    Realizing he could no longer catch the female thief, he turned around and started walking back. After the short yet intense struggle for life, a sudden fear crept into his heart.


    No one faces death without fear, and had his luck or reflexes been a fraction slower, he might well have been lying on the ground, waiting for death.


    Winters could never have imagined that a night shift could nearly result in a fatality¡ªwith him as the victim.


    All of a sudden, Winters felt his right hand wet; under the moonlight, he saw it was smeared with a ck liquid. Only then did he realize it was blood.


    The thief had left him injured from the first round when she pulled out her dagger. His right arm had a deep wound, and the right sleeve of his summer uniform was soaked with blood.


    As the adrenaline effect wore off, fatigue and the sharp pain from the wound on his right arm intensified their assault on Winters. With nothing on hand to treat the wound, he clenched his left fist and tucked it under the armpit of his right arm, hoping to stanch the bleeding somewhat.


    As he was walking, Winters noticed the reflection of metal on the ground¡ªit was the dagger. He picked it up, thinking, "This is a war trophy that cost me dearly; I should keep it as a memento."


    Beside the dagger was a small square package the size of a palm. Winters picked it up too. The fabric on the outside of the package felt like silk, indicating it was not mere garbage but something the woman dropped while trying to put out the fire in her hair. Winters stuffed the dagger and the small package into his bag and continued toward the stone table where he and Bard had been resting.


    The sound of heavy running approached; it was Bard running over. Bard was shocked to see Winters covered in sweat, his left hand under his right armpit, and his right armpletely drenched in blood.


    "I heard the whistle¡­ What happened?" Bard hadn''t expected bloodshed so soon after he had left.


    "There was a thief," Winters felt slightly dizzy, probably from blood loss, "she came from the school side, armed with a dagger, and a woman at that. I set her hair on fire, and then she ran away."


    "What? A female thief? Where did shee from?" Overwhelmed by the flood of information, Bard spoke with a sense of helplessness, "Never mind the thief for now, you need to tend to your arm. Which way did she run?"


    With his hands otherwise upied, Winters could only point with his head.


    "Are you sure it was the thief''s hair you set alight?" Bard asked, looking toward the direction the thief had escaped.


    "Unless the hair growing on her head isn''t actually hair," Winters didn''t understand why Bard would ask such a foolish question.


    But immediately, he too was stunned.


    The sky was now stained red with mes.

 Chapter 22: Chapter 15 Awakening the Sleeping Tiger (Part 1)

    "This really wasn''t me!" Winters felt that he had been wronged beyond measure, trudging through the darkness with uneven steps, "Damn! I really only burned the thief''s hair!"


    "I know, I know, this definitely wasn''t your doing. The fire started far from here," said Bard, who was carrying two long halberds and leading the way, calmly deflecting the me for Winters.


    "This is cursed luck!" Winters''s entire day had been nothing but misfortune, struck by a bolt from the blue by Aike during the day and targeted by a female thief at night, leaving him with injuries on his left shoulder, right arm, and feet.


    The two hurried back to their duty post at the north gate, where the junior students on guard duty had already heard the whistle and seen the strange urrence in the sky. They thought it was the patrolling guards blowing the whistle after spotting a fire, and the instructor on night duty had been awakened and was anxiously waiting at the entrance.


    So when they saw Winters return with a bloody arm, they were all shocked.


    "What happened here? Why are you covered in blood?" the duty instructor asked in confusion.


    "There was a thief. Caught hering out from the school direction. A knife was involved, and she escaped," recounted Winters, having arranged his words on the way back.


    He decided it was wiser to keep quiet about anything rted to "fire" and not to mention a woman. To avoid unnecessary misunderstandings, and the need for further exnations.


    "Who dares to wreak havoc on our Military Academy''s ground?" The instructor, upon hearing about a thief daring to infiltrate the military academy, was furious.


    Winters thought to himself: Indeed, she has a death wish, and my life was almost lost too.


    However, the thief was long gone, and for the moment, no one could do anything about her. The priority was clearly to treat the wound on Winters''s arm and figure out exactly where the fire was.


    The night-duty instructor immediately took Winters to the faculty duty office. The instructor tried to light a match with flint and steel, but failed several times. Winters sighed inwardly, then used an Ignition Spell to light the oilmp, and the instructor realized that Winters was a Spellcaster.


    Even with the oilmp, the light was too dim, so the instructor asked Winters''s juniors to bring a few more oilmps. At this moment, Winters remembered the dagger from the female thief; as long as it wasn''t rusty, the dagger could be used as a casting material for the Luminosity Spell.


    So Winters pulled out the dagger, using the same casting gesture for the Ignition Spell, he used Te''s Luminosity Spell. Magic poured into the surface of the dagger, the metal, infused with magical power, released it in the form of visible light, and the room was immediately illuminated.


    The instructor took advantage of the light to find a pair of small scissors, and swiftly cut the sleeve off Winters''s summer uniform. The blood on Winters''s arm had coagted, sticking the fabric tightly to the wound.


    "You''ll need to grit your teeth and bear it," the instructor said in a low voice. "This must be torn off, it can''t stay on the wound. Otherwise, your wound will get infected, and you''ll die of a fever."


    Over a decade of Sovereignty Wars had provided the military with extensive experience in dealing with sharp weapon injuries, eventually bing part of the curriculum in health sses. Instructors at the military school certainly came from a military background, and everyone in the room knew that the fabric must not stick to the wound.


    Winters nodded. The instructor didn''t waste words and, with a stern heart and a forceful pull, tore the fabric stuck to the wound. The pain made Winters gasp for air, and the wound that had stopped bleeding began to bleed anew.


    At that moment, the sound of hooves approached from afar, quickly stopping outside the faculty duty office. A student pushed open the door: "Report! The horses have been brought."


    The students on guard at the entrance had spotted the anomaly in the sky earlier and immediately woke the instructor sleeping in the duty office. The instructor immediately judged that it was a fire at the port and, apanied by a student, ran along the main road toward the fire to ascertain the situation.


    As he ran, the instructor realized he had made a foolish mistake, the burning location was clearly a good distance from the school, how soon could he get there just by running? So the two of them ran back and dispatched a cavalry student from the school to lead two horses from the stables.


    As the instructor paced back and forth like an ant on a hot pan at the school gate, waiting for the horses to be brought over, Winters and Bard returned to the north gate.


    The instructor paid no attention to the student bringing the horses, he first carefully examined the piece of cloth ripped from Winters''s body under the glow of the Luminosity Spell, and then scrutinized Winters''s wounds. At that moment, Winters no longer had the strength to maintain the Luminosity Spell, and the dagger dimmed, leaving only the oilmp as the room''s source of light.


    "It''s alright, it hasn''t hit the bone. The weapon that caused the wound is very sharp, no shredded fabric has been embedded in the wound. The cut is also very clean; it will heal quickly. If there were a Divine Arts user here, he wouldn''t even scar," the instructor confidently deduced, immediately instructing the other students, "Find some clean water, dissolve some salt in it, and wash his wound, don''t wrap it up."


    The instructor then tore off a long strip of cloth from the bedsheet, wrapped it around Winters''s neck and right hand, tied a knot to form a sling simr to what one would use for a broken arm, and advised Winters, "Don''t move your right arm at random, minimize disturbing the wound so it can heal quickly."


    After treating Winters''s knife wound, the instructor hurried off with a student on horseback to investigate the fire at the port area.


    After the instructor left, Bard quickly arranged for saltwater to clean Winters''s wound, but he also ran into trouble, where to find clean water and salt at thiste hour? It seemed only the kitchen would have both these things, so he hurriedly ran out to the canteen to get the saltwater.


    In the room, only Winters and three junior students remained, Winters didn''t recognize these three, and they didn''t know Winters, all gaping at one another.


    "Go to the student duty room," Winters decided to move to another room, they couldn''t stay in the staff duty room.


    "Squad leader, who would be so vicious?" A lower-grade officer cadet carefully examined Winters''s wound and said in horror, "Need to use a knife for stealing something? Besides, what is there to steal in the school?"


    "I thought it was someone running from bed duty," Winters said with a bitter smile, "I didn''t expect them toe at me with a knife."


    "Did you see what she looked like?"


    "She was masked, I didn''t see, but I''m certain it was a woman."


    "A woman?!" The three juniors were dumbstruck, in their military academy life they rarely encountered other females apart from the kitchen maids andundry women, let alone a female thief.


    The three juniors exchanged nces and unanimously thought to themselves that this senior must be so desperately hungry for the opposite sex that he imagines every person to be a woman.


    "It really was a female thief, [expletive]!" Winters spotted what these little brats were thinking immediately; a female thief indeed sounded like some kind of fantasy, but he was certain that the person who had charged at him with a dagger was definitely a woman.


    He now regretted mentioning to these three brats that the thief was a woman, their attention had been utterly diverted by the word "female."


    "Didn''t you notice anything unusual just now?" Winters asked the juniors what they knew.


    "No, I was on my post the whole time. Same as always, didn''t hear any strange sounds or see anything odd," one lower-grade officer cadet shook his head.

 Chapter 23: Chapter 16 Awakening the Sleeping Tiger (Part 2)

    The military academy''s surrounding wall was built with bricks, and to save money, it was not even 1.7 meters tall. Winters believed that the female thief must have climbed over the wall. Now that the person had fled, the whole school could only check their belongings to see what was missing in order to know what the thief had taken.


    "Where is everyone! [Expletive]! Where are the guards!" A roar came from outside the building.


    Damn it, Winters''s heart skipped a beat, preupied with chatting inside, he had forgotten his duty to stand guard. The four cadets hurriedly ran out of the duty office.


    A senior officer riding a chestnut horse dismounted and without a word,shed the four cadets with a whip, cursing furiously, "Not even [Expletive] standing guard?"


    "Report! North gate nighttime guard duty! Six should be present! Only four are present!" Winters, confused as to why he had been whipped, felt a burning pain on the spot where he had been struck and a surge of anger welled in his heart.


    But he knew the military academy was no different from the army, and this was definitely not the time to talk back. The lighting was poor, and Winters couldn''t make out who the person was, but the uniform made it clear that it was a senior officer of at least the rank of lieutenant colonel.


    "Where is the duty officer?" the senior officer demanded sternly.


    "Report! Went to investigate the location of the fire!" It wasn''t until this moment that Winters could finally see clearly the officer before him.


    He had a face with sword-like eyebrows and piercing eyes, a high nose bridge, and thin lips; he was the head of the academy, effectively the second inmand of the Provincial Army''s Officer College, and the actual individual in charge.


    "Why wasn''t there a report about the fire situation!" the head of the academy''s anger did not subside.


    "Report! I didn''t know!" Winters retorted loudly, discharging his frustration, and indeed he had no idea about it.


    Most of those living in the school were low-level teaching staff with ranks below lieutenant colonel, residing in officer dormitories. Although individual residences were prepared for school officers and higher-ranking military officers, senior officers generally opted to find their own property outside the school.


    The reason the instructor on duty tonight with Winters had not reported wasn''t forck of wanting to, but because he really didn''t know which school leader was staying at the school tonight; he had thought to rify the situation before making a report.


    "Ring the assembly bell! Emergency assembly! Get everyone up! Have all personnel form up at the north gate training ground!" The head of the academy didn''t continue to make things difficult for the four cadets, and immediately issued orders to them.


    "Yes, sir!" Winters and the others epted the orders and immediately ran to ring the assembly bell.


    "Wait a moment," the head of the academy stopped Winters with his riding crop as he was about to walk away: "What happened to your arm?"


    "Report! There was a thief! The thief wielded a knife! I repelled her!" Winters replied sinctly, using his most concisenguage to describe what had happened.


    Facing the infuriated head of the academy, Winters did not dare to say "the thief ran out from the school, I did not stop her, and let her escape," but he also believed he had not lied.


    "Which daredevil dares to run wild on Provincial Army territory!" The head of the academy became furiously enraged, his reaction identical to that of the duty instructor: "Come see me tomorrow, give me a detailed report."


    "Dong dong dong dong"¡ªthe assembly bell was rung ferociously, and immediately afterwards, the piercing whistles of the nighttime guard cadets sounded. Like a beast awakened from its sleep, the Provincial Army''s Officer College, in slumber, was roused by the assembly bell.


    The nighttime quietude was reced by chaos, as cadets awakened in their dormitories jumped from their bunks, grabbed their clothing, and quickly pulled it on. With no gear needed to carry along, they hastily made for the door once dressed.


    Outside, someone shouted, "Assemble at the north gate training ground! Assemble at the north gate training ground!" These were the nighttime guard cadets who had received orders from the head of the academy.


    In an era without portable fire-starters, the military school''s emergency nighttime assemblies had no time to lightmps. Everything had to be carried out in the dark, as cadets navigated their way to the north gate training ground guided by the faint glimmers of moonlight.


    The crowd moved silently yet in a disciplined fashion, packed together like a school of sardines in the sea, creating a strange yet orderly aesthetic.


    The cadets who rapidly emerged from all dormitories quickly joined the ranks at the north gate training ground. Point leaders formed the head of the line, while others swiftly found their ces in the formation.


    Winters had also run back to the formation by now, startling Aike with the wound on his shoulder. However, since idle chatter was not permitted within the military ranks, the two could onlymunicate with their eyes. Each district''s teams began to count off and report in sequence.


    The instructors came over from the stables, riding horses as they patrolled around the cadets'' square formations. Spellcasters among the instructors brought over a pile of torches from the armory, igniting them with a fire spell before distributing them to various instructors.


    Only then was the entire north gate drill field illuminated by the light of the mes. The cadets stood in well-ordered squares, waiting for orders.


    The Head of the Department, mounted on his beloved horse at the forefront of the parade ground, watched the Provincial Army Military Academy cadets assemble in an orderly fashion amidst the darkness, and with an imperceptible nod of his head, showed no emotion.


    "First-year corps, 174 expected, 174 present!"


    "Second-year corps, 175 expected, 173 present!"


    "Third-year corps, 172 expected, 172 present!"


    "Report to the Head of the Department! Cadet battalion! 521 expected, 519 present! Reportingplete."


    "Attention, everyone!" The Head of the Department''s deafening voice echoed through the entire school, evidently using an amplification spell, "Three minutes! Take all your tools! Depart to fight the fire! Dismissed!"


    The academy''s formations swiftly disbanded, and Winters hurried to the armory to grab tools. However, he was somewhat puzzled; a fire is just a fire, what does a fire in the residential area have to do with the military academy, and it can''t burn all the way here to the military academy.


    The duty officers who had gone ahead to scout the fire situation also returned at this time, quickly reporting to the Head of the Department.


    After hearing the report, the Head of the Department immediately sent messengers to inform other senior officers of the military academy and the Provincial Army, and at the same time, summoned aid from two infantry battalions of the Provincial Army stationed outside Guidao City.


    The cadets quickly returned and once again formed into neat and uniform squares, only this time each person was equipped with an assortment of tools.


    Without a word, the Head of the Department gave a grand wave, and the entire military academy cadets advanced in six columns along the main road towards the port area of Guidao City.


    "What happened?!" It was not until the formation set off that Aike found a chance to ask Winters.


    "Ran into a thief, got stabbed," Winters summarized the whole affair as sinctly as possible.


    "What kind of thief would use a knife?"


    "I don''t know."


    "Are you alright?"


    "Just a flesh wound."


    "Shut up!" An instructor patrolling on horseback alongside the column of cadets barked at Winters and Aike to stop their whispering, and the two dared not speak anymore, quietly following the column.


    They marched through the outermost circle of run-down slums, past the ruins of the demolished old city wall, past the tanners'' workshops reeking with an awful stench, past the disorderly residential houses in the port area, until finally, they arrived at the site of the fire.


    It was not until then that Winters understood why the military academy had toe out in full force to fight a fire in the residential area.


    Because the first armament factory of the Senas Bay National Alliance Army was aze with roaring fire.

 Chapter 24: Chapter 17: The City Ablaze (Part 1)

    The Arsenal of Guidao City (also known as the First Arsenal of the Alliance Army) traces its origins to the Royal Weapons Administration of the mountain-front province during the Imperial rule. When it was established, the primary consideration was transportation conditions, hence its location near the coast close to the docks of Guidao City, where ships could directly dock at the small pier of the Weapons Administration.


    Initially, only four cksmiths were stationed here, essentially operating as arge-scale cksmith shop. The facility was responsible for storing and maintaining the weapons and equipment allotted to the royal troops stationed in the mountain-front province, without any manufacturing capabilities.


    After the Federated Provinces militia captured Guidao City for the first time, they immediately seized control of the Royal Weapons Administration and emptied its arsenal.


    When Guidao City changed hands for the second time, and the Federated Provinces militia realized that the war was not going to end quickly, they immediately transformed the old Royal Weapons Administration into the new Arsenal of Guidao City.


    The assigned functions of the Arsenal were no longer limited to maintenance and storage, allowing the Arsenal of Guidao City to begin producing cold weapons.


    The prolonged sovereignty war of more than a decade brought about a booming demand for weapons, resulting in the technical capabilities and production capacity of the Arsenal of Guidao City making major leaps forward.


    At first, the arsenal could only forge weapons using ready-made iron materials. But due to trade blockades, the supply of purchased copper and iron from external sources became increasingly inadequate.


    Therefore, the Arsenal of Guidao City began to recruit iron-smelters and established a smelting department, enabling the arsenal to smelt ore and supply its raw materials independently.


    Latterly, as the war dragged on and soldiers using gunpowder weapons made up an increasing proportion of the militia forces, the Arsenal of Guidao City added a rifle and artillery department, specializing in the technology of gun manufacturing.


    Towards thetter stages of the war, the Arsenal of Guidao City began to produce an unending stream of muskets and cannons, arming arge number of unarmed citizens.


    Marshal Ned once praised this arsenal with the following words, "Without the Arsenal of Guidao City, there would be no victory!" From that moment, the nickname "Victory Arsenal" spread like wildfire, bing this arsenal''s affectionate moniker among the Alliance Army.


    Over the span of twenty-odd years, Victory Arsenal underwent expansion after expansion, like an insatiable glutton swallowing up the surroundingnd and houses. From a corner plot beside the docks, it evolved into a city within a city that upied nearly half the port area.


    But right now, there is no longer any Victory Arsenal, just a sea of mes.


    Some fifteen minutes ago, as the cadet battalion marched to the ruins of the old city wall, a faint smoke already permeated the entire street.


    The smoke infiltrated every alleyway by the roadside, every independent courtyard. The residents living at the edge of the district were all awakened, either poking their heads out from their windows or standing by their doorways gazing out, astonished at the sight of therge battalion marching towards the smoke''s origin.


    The further they marched, the denser and more pungent the smoke became; Winters was brought to tears by the stinging sensation, and coughing sounds emerged sporadically from the column.


    The horses ridden by the instructors became increasingly restless and refused to proceed no matter how much they were spurred on.


    With no other choice, the Spellcaster instructors had to continually take turns employing magic, always maintaining two horizontal Wind Control Techniques at the front of the column to blow the smoke into the residential areas on either side of the road.


    Continuing forward, when they could see the glow of the fire, the situation became much worse.


    The mes had already spread from the arsenal to the nearby residences; many inhabitants died from poison smoke without even waking from their sleep. Some citizens who were trying to escape ran towards the direction from which the cadet battalion wasing, crying and screaming.


    "Judgment hase! Judgment hase!"


    "It''s the devils! The devils are spreading through the streets!"


    "Run for your lives! There''s nothing we can do! Escape!"


    The fleeing people shouted as they ran, clutching tightly the valuables they had grabbed on their way out of their homes. Their houses had been consumed by the fire, and the possessions in their hands were now all that they owned.


    Cries and howls battered Winters'' chest, making him extremely ufortable. Facing the fleeing crowds, the battalion of cadets advanced in silence.


    A little further ony a vision of hell.


    Here, darkness was dispelled by fierce mes. Streets were illuminated by raging fire, the smoke so intense that not even the Wind Control Technique could mitigate it. Bibi babbling wood burning noises and the constant rumble of copsing houses echoed non-stop.


    A woman was kneeling by the road, hysterically wailing, with no one knowing what had befallen her, nor paying her any attention.


    Those who had narrowly escaped from the fire were terrified, scrambling on hands and feet towards the outskirts of the city.


    And for those residents whose houses were but a few meters away from the fire line, despair had set in:


    Some of them had not given up and were struggling to carry whatever valuables they could from their homes;


    Some were beating their chests and cursing the devil aloud;


    Some had gone mad, desperately banging their heads against the ground;


    While others had given up resistance, closing their eyes and muttering prayers.


    But fire and water are merciless, and all efforts were in vain. They could only watch helplessly as their homes were devoured by the mes.


    When Winters first noticed the anomaly in the sky, he had a very bad premonition. A fire that could turn the sky colors was bound to be extensive.


    But it was only when he truly witnessed the scale of the fire disaster that he realized his initial thoughts were far too optimistic.


    The cadet battalion from the military academy couldn''t even get close to the wall of the Victory Arsenal; heat waves and thick smoke stopped them a block away.


    "Sir! Sir!" A man dressed in a short brown outfit, holding onto his hat, ran up to the head of the military academy: "I''m the captain of the port fire prevention team. It''s so good you''re here!"


    "And how may I serve you, my esteemedmander?" the head of the academy asked coolly.


    "The fire is beyond extinguishing now. All we can do is tear down the surrounding houses and establish an istion zone. Your cadets have arrived just in time," the fire prevention captain said hastily, not daring to beat around the bush with his n.


    "I came here to save the army''s assets. Now that the arsenal is gone, I''m not going to use my valuable officers for firefighting. That''s your responsibility," the head of the academy said before turning his horse to leave.


    "Sir! Please, have a heart!" The fire prevention captain grabbed the reins of the head''s horse, pleading.


    "Hmph," the head of the academy snorted coldly.


    "I beg you! Look at the wind direction, the wind is blowing from the coastline inward. The wind feeds the fire, and if we don''t establish an istion zone quickly, it won''t take long for the entire port area to be a sea of fire, followed by the whole city area," the fire prevention captain urged.


    The head of the academy still had a grim face, saying nothing.


    "Sir, if the whole of Guidao City is burning, can your school alone survive?" Seeing a slight shift in the attitude of the highest-ranking person in this military academy troop, the fire prevention captain refused to give up thisst straw for salvation.


    "The bigger the fire, the faster it spreads. It''s already getting out of hand. Please, have a heart! Sir! Look at thesemon folk!" the fire prevention captain continued to plea desperately.

 Chapter 25: Chapter 18: The City Ablaze (Part 2)

    "What do you need us to do?" the head of department suddenly asked.


    "Ah?" The abrupt change in the high-ranking official''s demeanor caught the fire prevention team captain off guard, but he quickly regained hisposure, "Demolish the houses! The houses here are definitely beyond saving; we need to fall back two more blocks and make a firebreak."


    "All units, attention! About face¡ªmarch! Forward¡ªmarch!" The chaotic noise on the outskirts of the fire scene was drowned out by orders amplified using a spell, as the head of department issued directmands to all the cadets through magic.


    He was decisive and acted swiftly, "Which houses need to be demolished, speak!"


    "I''ll take you there!" The fire prevention team captain nodded frantically and led the way, "My manpower is truly insufficient; your help is really appreciated; God will bless you."


    "Hmph." The head of department snorted coldly again, clearly not impressed by the ttery.


    Residents within the firebreak zone designated by the fire prevention team captain realized what the group of soldiers were nning to do. The fire was still two blocks away! Of course, they were unwilling to let the soldiers tear down their homes.


    "What are you doing?"


    "By what right are you demolishing our homes!"


    "If you''re going to demolish my house, you''ll have to step over my dead body."


    "Why demolish ours and not others''?"


    "The soldiers are killing people!"


    Residents in the designated firebreak zone stood by the streets, brandishing things like door bars and kitchen knives, waving them to keep the military academy cadets from getting close.


    The fire prevention team captain ran back and forth, trying to persuade them with earnest words, but nobody was willing to listen to him.


    Residents living within the inner side of the firebreak also came to their senses, realizing that the creation of a firebreak meant their homes were to be abandoned.


    So they too joined the ranks of those preventing the demolition, resolutely not letting the military cadetse a step closer to the houses.


    Residents living on the outer side of the firebreak, however, were very supportive of the demolition n, but they merely stood by with their hands in their pockets, watching themotion.


    "Get out of the way!" The head of department''s shout, infused with the power of magic, startled the previously defiant residents into a stunned silence; he could no longer tolerate this charade, "Third-year students! Infantry division! Fall in!"


    Winters, upon hearing the order, reflexively stepped out and stood at the front of the line.


    "Anyone who dares to obstruct, shoot to kill!" The deafening voice was still magnified by the spell, "If you wantpensation, go to the city government!"


    Winters had not expected the head of department to issue an order of "shoot to kill." In his view, the situation had not escted to the point of killing.


    The residents of the port district clearly did not expect the official to be so ruthless; they trembled, barely able to stand on their own if not for helping each other, no longer possessing the unruly arrogance they had shown before.


    Winters stood face-to-face with the residents who were protecting their homes; he saw fear and terror in their eyes.


    "Do we really have to use force?" Winters thought to himself, clutching the iron shovel tightly in his hands, swallowing hard.


    "Take action!" came another fierce shout from the head of department.


    Winters steeled his heart, as a sense of duty to obey orders overcame all other thoughts. Ignoring the injury on his arm, he gripped the shovel with both hands and swung it fiercely towards the people opposite him.


    However, Winters deliberately used the wooden end rather than the metal end, thinking to himself, "The wooden handle probably won''t kill anyone."


    The group of minor citizens was no match for these military cadets who had undergone years of training, quickly beaten into crying for their parents and running away in panic.


    "Murder!"


    "The soldiers are killing people!"


    "It''s the military academy who started the fire!"


    "Demolish!" The head of department ordered,pletely ignoring what the dispersed residents were shouting, focusing only on executing the original n.


    This time, nobody dared to obstruct anymore; the residents all turned and ran back home to move their belongings, trying to salvage as much property as possible before their houses were destroyed.


    Guidao City''s port district''s houses could be said to be a typical example of organic, unnned urban areas.


    Starting from the docks, the city grew naturally without order, with houses enveloping one another likeyers of an onion.


    There were houses for all sorts of uses: residential, storage, workshops, shops; houses made from all kinds of materials: wood, adobe, bricks, stone; and houses from various eras. It was truly a melting pot.


    The military academy students secured ropes to the houses that faced the street and pulled down a whole wall of a wooden house with a united effort.


    The fire prevention team captain''s selection of the firebreak location was quite strategic, running along a stinking ditch. After demolishing the houses, the resulting construction debris could be pushed directly into the ditch, greatly improving efficiency.


    "Don''t all crowd here; we can''t spread out! Third-year stay here! First-year, go to the eastern blocks! Second-year, go to the western blocks! Anyone who dares obstruct, shoot to kill!" The head of departmentmanded in an orderly fashion.


    "Montekucoli!" The head of department called out another name.


    "Present!" The head of the artillery department responded immediately.


    "Go back to the armory to get the explosives; demolish all brick and stone houses with sting!"


    "Yes!" The director of the Artillery Academy''s teaching and research office didn''t say another word and left with a subordinate right away.


    While all the soldiers on-site were busily dismantling houses, from afar suddenly came the sound of a sermon being shouted at the top of someone''s lungs.


    "Revere! Feel the fiery wrath of God! The glorious day of His judgment has arrived!" A mendicant monk dressed in a coarse hemp robe, holding a banner aloft, strode forward; the residents who had been spectating all dropped to their knees before him, many attempting to kiss the hem of his robe and his shoes.


    With both hands raising the banner high, the mendicant monk preached loudly: "The angel of fire has descended upon Sodom! This is the divine fire that punishes your everyday sins! Repent..."


    "Fuck your mother!" Themandershed out with his whip, knocking over the fanatic.


    "Anyone whoes to help will get a big silver coin! It doesn''t matter if you are man or woman, old or young!" Having dealt with the clergyman who was openly preaching defeatism, themander immediately started recruiting bystanders: "If you don''t help, the fire will get here, and your houses won''t be spared either!"


    (Big silver coin: Refers to therge silver coins first minted by The Federated Provinces of the Republic in the year 537 of the Empire, which corresponded to the smaller silver coins with a silver content ratio of 1:20. The value of a big silver coin was roughly equivalent to one month''s wages for a dock worker.)


    Who would pay for this? Certainly not the military academy.


    Following themander''s line of thinking was: "Go and demand it from the city government."


    Themander didn''t care how much trouble his words might cause the Guidao City Executive Committee; what he was considering was how to demolish the istion zone quickly and efficiently.


    Through abination of threats and incentives, along with a bit of bluffing and intimidation, the demolition crew had significantly grown in number.


    The marshal, along with the assembled Guidao City Urban Guard, arrived, timely allowing the Urban Guard to maintain order at the scene.


    The two infantry battalions stationed outside the city (full strength of 960 soldiers and 14 officers) also arrived on-site, and the army soldiers quickly joined the work of tearing down the istion zone.


    The dull sounds of sting and the copse of buildings echoed back and forth, as horses, harnessed with makeshift bridles, were used to pull down the structures. The demolition project was proceeding in an orderly, tense, and race-against-time manner.


    But ns can never keep up with changes, as from nightfall to now, the wind speed of the sea breeze blowing from the ocean to thend had been gradually increasing.


    With the help of the sea breeze, the fire spread faster than anyone had anticipated. The fire line was elerating towards the istion zone, while a significant part of the istion zone still remained to be demolished.


    "Sir, I''m afraid we''re not going to make it... We should have set up the istion zone two blocks further back," moaned the head of the fire prevention team, clutching his hat in his hands, crumpling it into a ball of tattered cloth.


    "I know." Themander''s attitude was still cool as ice, but he was thoughtful, as though he had an idea.


    "Christian!" Themander called out loudly.


    "Present!" The head of the Spellcasters'' teaching and research office, having heard themander''s summons, ran over from a distance.


    "If all the spellcasters work together using the Wind Control Technique, could they temporarily change the direction of the wind in a particr area?" themander asked, voicing his remarkable idea.


    "It''s very challenging for spellcasters to contend with the forces of nature," said Christian, feeling that themander''s idea was far-fetched: "Spellcasters should use their spells in harmony with the forces of nature, not against them..."


    "I''m asking you if it''s possible or not?" Themander didn''t want to hear any excuses.


    "Theoretically, it should be." Christian continued to exin: "But realistically, I think it would be difficult to achieve with the current strength of our spellcasters; we don''t have enough and don''t have sufficiently powerful spellcasters..."


    "That''s enough." Themander heard what he wanted to hear.


    "I said it''s theoretically possible, but in reality..." Christian hurried to rify that there was a gap between theory and practice.


    "Doing something is better than doing nothing." Themander made a judgment: "Gather all the spellcasters present, I''ll tell you where to go in a while."


    Winters, who had been focusing on dismantling a house, was suddenly called out. He noticed that all those who were taken out with him were spellcaster students.


    All the spellcasters on the scene were brought together, and Christian repeated the orders loudly: "When you hear themand, use the Wind Control Technique with all your might directly ahead, without holding back. Remember! Straight ahead."


    Winters immediately understood the leadership''s n, thinking that even with his poor skill in eleration magic, he was being drafted as a tool, indicating that themander was really clutching at straws.


    Soon after, the spellcasters were brought to a yet-to-be-demolished area; for even distribution, some spellcaster students were even positioned on rooftops.


    Winters didn''t go onto a roof; he stood on the street, where, through the smoke, he could see the burning buildings about twenty or so meters away.


    "Wind Control Technique, activate at full power!" Themand came from not far behind him.


    Upon hearing themand, Winters, with his thumb pressing down on his middle finger in his left hand, recalled the feeling of using eleration magic and entered the casting state with all his might.


    Scorching heat and extreme cold tormented his "third hand," as though thousands of knives were cutting into his "fifth limb."


    He could feel the wind direction changing around him, the breeze from the front gradually weakening,ing to a stop, and then turning into a wind blowing from behind toward the front.


    Winters knew themander''s n was working, but he could no longer hold out, so he tried to rx his mind and exit the casting state.


    But to his horror, he couldn''t leave the casting state. The casting state that usually couldn''t be maintained with the slightest distraction was now inescapable, even if he wanted out.


    He even became paralyzed, losing control over his own body.


    To onlookers, Winters simply stood at attention on the street, but in reality, he was being forced to endure an incessant and grueling torment. Eventually, he could bear no more. His vision went ck, and he lost consciousness.


    In the final moment before he copsed, he saw a gigantic me serpent soaring into the sky.

 Chapter 26: Chapter 19: Fire Dragon Scroll

    There was no time, no space, no matter, no fluctuation, just boundless darkness... No, even the concept of darkness did not exist here; this was pure "nothingness." It was impossible to know how much time had passed when suddenly, a spark appeared within this "nothingness"¡ªWinters regained consciousness.


    The first sense toe back to him was his hearing: the surroundings were noisy, but what were the sounds? Then his sense of touch came back: he seemed to be lying down, was it on a bed? Was it a very hard bed? Finally, his vision began to return; Winters first felt light, and then he struggled to open his eyes, but his vision was blurry, unable to focus.


    After regaining sensation in his body, intense pain followed. This pain was not the normal kind of pain but more like the pain one feels when using magic. The pain was not emanating from any particr part of Winters'' body, yet it was genuinely tormenting him.


    Winters wanted to scream in pain, but he could only weakly open his mouth, and no sound came out from his vocal cords. He tried to lift his arm but did not feel any response. It seemed he had only regained sensory awareness of his body, but not control over his muscles.


    For Winters, this was all like a sudden, deep sleep; he could not even remember when he had lost consciousness. He had no memories, no concept of time, not even dreams.


    Thest moment he remembered, he was fighting fires in Guidao City. He closed his eyes, and upon opening them, he had lost control of his body, lying on a hard nk bed somewhere unknown, enduring agony.


    "He''s awake! He''s awake!" Winters heard someone shouting excitedly.


    "Who is it? Where am I? What''s happened to me?" Winters'' consciousness was still very sluggish, and thinking was a strenuous task for him. His eyes still could not focus, and it seemed like his vision was filled with a deep brown color.


    A warm liquid flowed into his mouth, seemingly not water, with a hint of bitterness. Swallowing reflexively made Winters subconsciously drink it down. It turned out someone had propped up his upper body slightly and was spoon-feeding him bit by bit. Seeing that Winters could swallow, they continued to spoon-feed him.


    After being fed, Winters was ced back in his original position, lying down. His consciousness began to blur, and soon he fell into a heavy sleep.


    Again, he closed his eyes and opened them. There were still no memories, no concept of time, and no dreams.


    But upon waking up the next time, Winters felt his condition had significantly improved. Although the pain had not gone away, it was no longer so intense that it made him want to roll around on the ground; it had be bearable.


    Indeed, for Winters, thest time he woke up was "just now." He had no real feeling of the passage of time; it felt as if he had just regained consciousness between the closing and opening of his eyes.


    This time, Winters'' eyes could finally focus. He carefully identified his surroundings: the ceiling was very close, it seemed he could touch it with an outstretched hand, and it appeared to be... wood nks??


    His limbs could move as well, and he immediately reached out to feel the bed, which was right next to a wall, seemingly also made of... wood nks??


    Winters could no longer lie still; he sat up with a forceful movement of his waist and abdomen, struggling to discern his environment: a narrow and gloomy wooden room, many ropes, with the whole room swaying rhythmically... was he in a ship''s cabin?


    What? I''m on a ship?? Winters was taken aback.


    "Ah?! You''re awake?" A voice like a ringing bell came to Winters'' ear, its loudness causing his ears to buzz: "Go report to the Major! Someone''s awake!"


    Hearing this distinctive booming voice, Winters could recognize who it was just with his ears. Without needing to use magic to amplify his voice, there was only one person who could be this loud: his fellow Cavalryman from the Sea Blue Republic, Andrea Cherini, whom everyone called Andre.


    Winters'' own temper was not exactly pleasant, so his friends were usually very tolerant. However, Andre''s temper was cast from the same mold as Winters'', both being typical fiery Vians. Simr tempers often repel each other, so even though the two werepatriots from the Sea Blue Republic, they weren''t very close.


    However, to Winters, who had just awakened from a deepa, Andre''s loud voice brought a sense of relief.


    Winters looked around, noticed several unconscious ssmates beside him, and realized he wasn''t actually on a bed but simply on a nk with some padding. He was eager to understand his surroundings: "Am I on a ship?"


    "Yes, you''re on a ship," Andre confirmed.


    "Why am I on a ship?" Winters was still Very confused.


    "You were carried on. You all passed out, and no matter what, we couldn''t wake you up, so everyone carried you onto the ship," Andre exined, interpreting the question from a rather unique perspective.


    "I mean, what are we doing on a ship now?" Winters asked again, this time rephrasing his question unambiguously.


    "Heading home by ship, back to Va (Sea Blue)."


    "Shouldn''t we be returning bynd?" Winters was more baffled than ever.


    "They said the road is difficult to travel this year, so a ship was sent to pick us up." After exining the current situation to Winters, Andre asked a strange question: "Do you remember what you did?"

 Chapter 27: Chapter 19 Fire Dragon Roll_2

    "What did I do?" Winters felt this question was incredibly baffling.


    "Have you really forgotten?" Andre asked tentatively again.


    "What do you want me to remember?" Winters was utterly confused. He struggled to stand up, but Andre quickly reached out to help him.


    "You set Guidao City on fire! On fire! Don''t you remember?" Andre''s words hit Winters like cannonballs.


    "Burned? What burned?" Winters felt a chill run through his body as thest bit of haziness in his mind cleared, and he asked in shock, "Weren''t we putting out a fire? What do you mean we burned down Guidao City?"


    "Yes, originally we were putting out the fire, and the department head ordered us to demolish houses. Then all you Spellcasters were called away, and as soon as you used Magic, a firestorm was summoned." Andre was unaware of the impact his words had on Winters, "After the firestorm appeared, the fire became even stronger. The firebreak was useless, and we all retreated. As we left by boat, themon people were frantically spreading rumors that the military academy''s magicians summoned Hellfire and destroyed Guidao City."


    "How could this be? We were there to put out the fire! What firestorm?" Winters hadn''t expected things to turn out like this. He suddenly remembered thest scene he could recall: a massive me serpent soaring into the sky.


    "Tell me, what did the firestorm look like?" Winters had too many things he wanted to know, he had to prioritize his questions. Speaking while standing was too tiring, so he sat back down on the makeshift bed.


    "Let me think... It was like a rope, connecting heaven and earth," Andre tried his best to describe the scene after Winters had lost consciousness using the limited vocabry he had, "A swirling me rope... a fire tornado!"


    Pleased with the analogy he hade up with, Andre repeated, "A fire tornado!"


    Remembering thest thing he had seen, Winters realized that this fire tornado might indeed be rted to him... no, to all the Spellcasters who were present and had used the Wind Control Technique at that time.


    "What is the current state of Guidao City?" Winters urgently wanted to know the consequences of the incident.


    "Half of the city district is gone. If it hadn''t been for torrential rain, perhaps the entire city could have burned to the ground," Andre hesitated before voicing his own doubt, "Was it really you guys who summoned the fire tornado?"


    "I don''t know... I really don''t know..." Intense pain surged through Winters again, and he answered in agony, curled up. He truly didn''t know if the fire tornado Andre spoke of had anything to do with the Spellcasters.


    "It''s okay, don''t worry too much." Seeing Winters in pain, Andre thought he was feeling guilty about the burning of Guidao City and hurried tofort him, "After all, it''s the Federated Provinces'' territory. If it''s burned, it''s burned. Even if it''spletely destroyed, it''s none of us Sea Blue People''s business! After all, we''re going home."


    Andrea, a native of the Sea Blue Republic, clearly had no empathy for the disaster in the capital of The Federated Provinces.


    Winters now had a bitter grievance he couldn''t express: I didn''t admit it was me who set the fire... I just said I wasn''t sure, and I really am not sure if there''s any connection with the Spellcasters... Besides, it wasn''t me who started the initial fire, so howe it sounds like I''m the prime suspect for arson?


    A series of urgent cking of military boots against the deck approached, and two people dressed in military officer uniforms stepped into the cabin. Winters clenched his teeth as he got up and, together with Andre, stood at attention and saluted.


    "It''s good you''re awake!" The officer dressed in a general''s uniform was the first to speak. The middle-aged general had amanding appearance and a tall stature, with a neatly trimmed mustache over his lips. Even without his military attire, one couldn''t mistake his profession, for the military bearing in his movements was too evident.


    The general ended the pleasantries with a single sentence and asked Winters directly, "I need to ask you something, and you must tell the truth. Did the Army Officer Academy intentionally cause your unconsciousness?"


    Winters quickly assessed the situation, this high-ranking officer was probably the "Major General" Andre mentioned earlier. Winters gathered his energy and honestly replied, "Report to the general, I do not know!"


    Upon hearing Winters'' response, the Major General frowned, "Then tell me what you do know."


    Winters recalled the situation that night, "At that time, the instructor gathered all the spellcasters together and had us use the Wind Control Technique simultaneously to alter the direction of the winds on the fire front. I only remember using the Wind Control Technique, I don''t have any memory of what happened after that, I woke up and found myself here."


    "When you say all spellcasters, you mean all, right? Not just Sea Blue spellcasters, but also United Provincials?" The major general sharply caught the key information he wanted and pressed on repeatedly.


    "Yes, all spellcasters, including those from the Federated Provinces," Winters was certain. Indeed, all spellcasters had been gathered without specifically selecting who would or would not go, naturally, including those from the Federated Provinces.


    Having received his answer, the major general''s expression suggested he was far from satisfied. He didn''t ask further, clearly having lost interest in Winters, "Alright, I''ve got it, rest well and tell me immediately if you recall anything else."


    With a perfunctory end to the conversation, the major general turned and left the small cabin.


    Winters also vaguely grasped a thread of the issue: it seemed that the major general was quite eager for the United Provincials military to take responsibility for his ckout.


    Only after the major general left did the officer who came with him speak. He was a smiling, handsome young man whose youthful face seemed almost at odds with the officer''s uniform he wore. His smile was so nonchnt and rxed, it was as if he wasn''t very concerned about anything.


    "Please, take a seat, don''t stand on my ount," the officer waved his hand amiably, indicating for Winters to sit.


    When his superior acted so courteously, how could Winters dare to actually take a seat? He merely nodded, his body remaining still.


    "Alright, then I''ll sit down first." The officer, devoid of pretense, sat downfortably on the floor, leaning back against a wooden panel of the cabin.


    Seeing that Winters and Andre still didn''t dare to move, he smiled and encouraged them, "Rx a bit. We''re alumni. I''m just a senior who graduated a few years before you; don''t mind the ranks. It tires me out to look up and talk to you while you''re standing."


    Only when they learned that the man before them was an alumnus did Winters and Andre start to rx a little and sat down, though they kept their backs ramrod straight.


    "Now you''re both warrant officers and entered the officer ranks. There''s only a few years of military service between us." The two cadets were still somewhat reserved, but the officer didn''t press them. He started by introducing himself, "The one earlier was Major General Layton, and I am Major Moritz. You can call me Moritz, senior, or Major, whatever you prefer. By the way, what are your names?"


    "Senior, I''m Winters Montagne."


    "Senior, I''m Andrea Cherini."


    The waves and the pattering rain beat against the hull. Amid the sounds of the wind, rain, and waves, the body of the ship swung rhythmically back and forth like a pendulum. The dim cabin''s only source of light was a small venttion window that was half open.


    "Winters, how do you feel right now?" Major Moritz asked a question that seemed perplexing to Andre.


    "What?" Winters was a bit confused.


    "You''re feeling, your current feeling."


    Winters understood what Major Moritz was asking, "Pure pain, but it''s at a barely tolerable level. When I woke upst time, the pain was unbearable."


    Winters silently thought to himself: I feel as if I haven''t left the spellcasting state. But this Major Moritz in front of me isn''t wearing the Triad Association''s badge; clearly, he isn''t a spellcaster. So even if I told him, he wouldn''t understand what the spellcasting state is. For that reason, Winters chose to describe it in a way ayperson could understand.


    After hearing Winters'' exnation, Major Moritz took out a silver coin and started toying with it in his hand, deep in thought.

 Chapter 28: Chapter 20 Muscle Strain

    Major Moritz seemingly conjured a small silver coin out of thin air and toyed with it in his hand. The coin moved nimbly between his fingers, appearing and disappearing intermittently. Winters didn''t notice this, but Andre waspletely captivated by the Major''s magical sleight of hand, thinking to himself, "You definitely shouldn''t gamble with dice against this upperssman, or you''re sure to lose even your pants."


    "You do have some external injuries, but youra obviously wasn''t caused by those wounds; other spellcaster cadets without these injuries fell intoas just the same," Major Moritz mused for a moment before sharing his observations.


    It was then that Winters realized that the other unconscious cadets around him were all spellcaster cadets from the same ss of Sea Blue. Counting roughly, it seemed like all were present.


    "Did all the spellcasters pass outst night?" Winters tentatively asked.


    "Notst night, but the night before. You''ve been unconscious for nearly two days now." Major Moritz unreservedly informed Winters of the current situation, "The Federated Provinces have said that almost all of the spellcasters lost consciousness, but we don''t know if what they say is true or false. I can only be sure of one thing; when we came to retrieve the officer cadets yesterday, all the Sea Blue spellcasters were in a deepa."


    Major Moritz chuckled as if he had thought of something, "That''s why General Layton was so angry."


    "Yeah, Winters, you didn''t see it, I was quite enlightened," Andre happily added from the side, "It was my first time seeing Chief Cornelius scolded bloody yet unable to utter a single word."


    "If it weren''t for Cornelius, why would they send a Major General to escort the cadets?" Major Moritz was also pleased, clearly, Chief Cornelius being scolded by General Layton was a recent source of joy for Major Moritz.


    Winters remembered theshing he received while on duty the night beforest, and his appreciation for General Layton surged.


    Cornelius was hot-tempered, acted with swift decisiveness, and was aggressive in his dealings. The soldiers respected him but also feared him, and he was certainly not popr in day-to-day interactions. However, his capabilities were strong, and it was rare for him to face a setback. Winters deeply regretted not having witnessed General Cornelius being reprimanded in person.


    "Let''s talk about your current situation," Major Moritz turned the conversation back to Winters, "I''ve seen many injured spellcasters, but I''ve never seen a case like yours."


    Major Moritz pointed at Winters and the other unconscious cadets, "You''re not in aa because of external injuries, and we''re clueless about the internal injuries you''ve suffered. However, since you''ve regained consciousness, the others should also be able to self-repair."


    "Hasn''t anyone else woken up? I remember waking up once before," Winters hurriedly asked, confident that he had a clear memory of regaining consciousness and it wasn''t an illusion.


    "Some haven''t woken up at all, while others have woken up once just like you. They were fed medicine and went back to sleep," said Major Moritz, twirling the silver coin.


    "Medicine! That''s right, someone fed me medicine!" Winters suddenly remembered drinking a liquid that had a bitter taste.


    "Well, that can''t really be called medicine; it''s a sleep aid concoction I mixed. I didn''t know if it would work. Hoping to help you enter a sleep state, I mixed two sleep-inducing agents and fed you a bit," Major Moritz casually exined the sleep aid he had used to the two lieutenants:


    "I suffer from severe insomnia. The Flemish prepare a treatment for insomnia by drying and grinding the rootstock of a nt and consuming it, and I happened to have some of their powdered rootstock here; the natives of the Western Colonies of the Pseudo-Murlo Empire like to chew a certain leaf to enter a calm state, iming that it allows them tomunicate with their ancestors, and I also have some of this dried leaf.


    After your first awakening, you were clearly in great pain. Rather than suffer like that, it was better to let you remain unconscious, so I tried to mix these two things together and fed them to you, helping you return to a sleep state. Thankfully, it worked."


    It was then that Winters knew who had aided him. Thest time he awoke, Winters had been in so much pain he wanted to roll on the ground, whereas now he could bear it. He gratefully said, "The concoction you made must have worked, I feel much better than I did when I woke upst time. Thank you, senior."


    "No, no, no, you''re mistaken. It wasn''t my concoction that helped you; what I made is not a medicine, just a sleep aid," Major Moritz gently waved his hand,ying out his theory, "My sleep aid can''t repair your body¡ªit''s your body itself that''s repairing you."


    "Repairing the body?" Winters didn''t understand what the Major was talking about.


    "I believe that the reason you fell into aa must be due to a severe injury somewhere in your body. Since there''s no external injury visible to others, this invisible damage can only be healed by the body''s self-repair mechanism. When does your body do its self-repair? I guess it''s when you''re unconscious or asleep.


    When you lose consciousness, your body is actually busy repairing itself. And when you are conscious, the severe pain from the injury actually hinders the body''s self-repair process. So by helping you sleep, I intended to give your body more time for self-repair."

 Chapter 29: Chapter 20 Muscle Strain_2

    Major Moritz''s exnation was simple and easy to understand, and Winters had no trouble grasping it.


    "So if I want to recover faster, I should sleep more?" Winters asked tentatively.


    "If I''m not mistaken, that''s correct," nodded Major Moritz.


    "Then could you give me some more sleeping aid?" After all, sleeping was Winters''s favorite sport.


    "I''m out, I''m afraid, I only had a little of both sleeping aids left. They were originally for treating my insomnia, but now they''ve all been used up by you guys." Major Moritz spread his hands helplessly, "But..."


    In anynguage of this world, whateveres before "but" can generally be considered nonsense.


    "But..." Major Moritz said with a smile, "I have another method that can approximate the effect of the sleeping drugs, you can try that."


    "Uh... Thank you, senior," Winters thanked him, though unclear about the details.


    "Don''t thank me, you should thank the ssmate who has been taking care of you these past few days. It was your ssmate who stayed with you the whole time," Senior Moritz reminded Winters.


    Winters quickly stood up and gave Andre a deep bow, "I really can''t thank you enough."


    "No, no, don''t thank me..." Andre also stood up quickly, exining embarrassingly, "I''ve only covered the shift for less than an hour. It''s been Bard looking after you before. He has been up for an entire day and couldn''t hold on anymore, so he just went to sleep."


    "What? Bard?"


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The sky was clear and the waves high, as colorful gs fluttered atop the leading mast.


    This fast ship, full of Sea Blue apprentice officers, had already sailed out of the rainy area. The students no longer had to be trapped in the gloomy and damp cabin and rushed to the upper deck for some fresh air.


    Taking advantage of the good weather, Winters and Bard were also on the upper deck, enjoying the sea breeze and drying clothes. Winters was unconscious when they set off so Aike had packed his luggage for him, including washing his military clothing.


    However, it rained the night of the fire rescue, so the clothes were not dried. Winters thought about throwing away the moldy-smelling military clothing, but he felt it would be disrespectful to Aike''s kindness, hence he took advantage of the good weather to air it out on the deck.


    "Did you know you drank back what you vomited into the cupst night?" Bard could barely contain his amusement.


    "Stop, please, I feel like throwing up just thinking about it,"ined Winters, the hangover making his head throb with pain, different from the "phantom limb pain" caused by using magic, but a straightforward headache.


    After truly understanding Major Moritz''s "alternative therapy," Winters realized how unreliable first impressions could be. The major''s gentlemanly demeanor was just a facade; his true nature was that of a heavy drinker.


    The thing Major Moritz suggested as a substitute for sleeping drugs was alcohol, and by approximating the effect of sleeping drugs he meant drinking until one cked out.


    Moreover, the Major didn''t prefer wine or ale but rather rum, the strong liquor preferred by the lower sses of sailors.


    Ever since sugarcane was introduced from the southern continent, the Gulf Region''s outlying ind chain saw a crop of sugarcane ntations spring up like mushrooms after rain.


    Rum, a by-product of the sugar industry, started to be popr in the Gulf Region and somehow became Major Moritz''s favorite at some point.


    Under the pretense of treatment, the Major, who had no one else to drink with, got Winters so drunk that he passed out, indeed fulfilling his promise to help Winters "approximate the use of drugs to aid in sleep."


    "So, how do you feel now?" Bard, curious about the effect of Major Moritz''s therapy because Winters had almost drunk himself to death, asked.


    "I have a headache, feel nauseous, and want to throw up," Winters replied weakly, leaning on the ship''s railing.


    "I''m asking about the magic side of things."


    "Well, I think the Major''s theory has some merit. Sleep does indeed seem to repair the third hand," Winters had to admit that the unexined pain he felt upon waking from sleep was lessening each time, "By the way, have you gotten hold of any gunpowder?"


    "Right here." Bard took out a small cow-horn container from his bag, "I asked the captain for some gunpowder, and he just handed me a whole hornful. I''ll give it back to him after you''ve used it."


    Winters took the gunpowder horn, popped the cork, and poured a bit of the powder onto the ship''s railing. Then, remembering the sensation of casting fire-type spells and maintaining the casting gesture, he tried to ignite the small pile of gunpowder with a fire spell.


    Using a fire spell to ignite gunpowder is a skill that spellcasters learn at the beginning of their training and is one of the simplest effects to achieve.


    But the gunpowder did not ignite as Winters had expected; instead, the gradually subsiding phantom limb pain erupted once again.


    Winters trembled with pain, feeling unstable on his feet, so he leaned against the railing, waiting for the pain to subside.


    Bard quickly poured Winters a strong drink, "There''s no need to rush to try magic. Rx, your magical abilities are definitely still there. Isn''t the gradual disappearance of your phantom limb pain proof that your magical abilities are recovering?"


    "I was just giving it a try; I wasn''t deluding myself into thinking I''d recover so quickly." Winters took the drink in his hand but didn''t drink it, "Looks like I''ll just have to slowly heal."


    "I think it''s quite fitting how you guys refer to magical talent as the ''third hand'' and the ''fifth limb,''" Bard said thoughtfully, "Look, isn''t what you''re experiencing now just like a muscle strain from overexertion?"

 Chapter 30: Chapter 20 Muscle Strain_3

    "Hahahaha." This amusing analogy hit Winters''s funny bone, "You''re right, my ''magic muscle'' is strained. It''s not just the muscles; it feels like my tendons are nearly snapped."


    After theughter, Winters said to Bard, "You see, you mentioned that you were definitely going to be assigned overseas. Look at you now, aren''t you in the Sea Blue Republic?"


    "I did indeed apply for an overseas assignment, and I never expected to end up in Va." Not being sent overseas, Bard was also in good spirits, "It''s also because this year is unusual, there were no overseas assignments at all, everyone stayed at home. But I always feel something''s a bit off..."


    "Don''t think too much, being in Sea Blue is always better than being sent overseas." Winters was still his usual optimist, "Don''t worry, the Sea Blue army won''t deliberately ostracize United Provincials. Besides, I''m here, there''s no need to worry about it."


    "I actually don''t mind regional discrimination, because no matter where you are, it''s the poor who are discriminated against most." Bard always had a unique perspective, but his attitude remained very calm.


    "Don''t be so negative, we finally made it from cadets to officers. When we get to Sea Blue City, we must celebrate." Winters patted Bard on the shoulder vigorously, inadvertently pulling at the knife wound on his right arm.


    "Mr. Officer sir, will you still be drinking this?" An abrupt voice interrupted the casual conversation between Winters and Bard.


    The intruder was a sailor. The sailor''s skin had been tanned dark by the constant baking of two suns, leaving only the whites of his eyes exposed. His hair clumped together, as if it hadn''t been washed for a long time. He rubbed his hands together, looking eagerly at the cup of alcohol in Winters''s hand.


    "If you want to drink, just drink it." Winters handed the cup to the sailor. He himself wasn''t fond of alcohol, especially since there was simply no clean freshwater on the boat, "But I''m not a ''sir'', just call me Winters, and this is Warrant Officer Bard. There haven''t been any ''sirs'' on thisnd for a long time; the noble ss was overthrown twenty-seven years ago."


    "Thank you, Mr. Officer sir, thank you, Mr. Officer sir." The sailor bowed incessantly like he was pounding garlic, took the cup, and drained it in one go, sighing with satisfaction. Although the Alliance had abolished the nobility twenty-seven years ago, many people still clung to the idea of nobles in their hearts.


    "Don''t call me ''sir'', just Winters will do. Brother sailor, I actually have a question to ask." Actually, Winters had been puzzled since he woke up today, and now he had a chance to ask a sailor for answers.


    "You tell me, you tell me." The sailor nodded briskly.


    "Why do I feel like we are heading east?" Winters had judged the ship''s direction from the trajectory of the suns and found it a bit strange.


    "That''s right, we are heading east." The sailor''s tone was as if someone was asking him whether one plus one equals two.


    "What?" Now it was Winters and Bard who were dumbfounded.


    Thend around Senas Bay was roughly shaped like a semicircle, with the Federated Provinces upying the northern half and the Sea Blue Republic the southern half. Sea Blue City was located to the south of Tess City, across the sea, which ismon geographical knowledge.


    Yet the sailor before them was saying: the ship was not heading south, but east instead.


    Winters and Bard had been on the ship for two whole days, only to find out that this was not the route home.


    "So where are we going?" Winters grabbed the sailor''s clothes and pressed for an answer.


    "Mr. Officer sir, we are of course headed for Tanilia."

 Chapter 31: Chapter 21 Cargo Ship Brokerage

    ```


    Four dayster, at a dock on the main ind of the Taniria Inds, Winters, Andre, and Bard were idly standing at the uppermost level of the ship''s stern castle,peting over who could throw a stone the farthest.


    "You two are tantly bullying an injured man," Wintersined, as he had injured his right hand and could only participate using his left, currently rankingst.


    "You''re allowed to concede defeat. Do you?" Andre said, giving a strong swing and tossing a small stone into a graceful arc, whichnded far out on the water.


    Bard didn''t speak. He weighed the stone in his hand, stood sideways with a stable stance, and using the strength of his waist and abdomen, he threw it powerfully. The stone hit the water''s shimmering surface even farther out, so distant that its point of impact was unclear.


    Seeing Bard''s new record, Winters began to look around thoughtfully. He felt that he could only stand a chance at aeback if he found some material to make a rudimentary catapult.


    "Aren''t you from the Monastery? Do monks also practice shot put?" Andre asked cheekily, speaking whatever came to mind.


    "Monks don''t do shot put," Bard replied with a smile, "but I''ve herded livestock for them."


    Winters sighed¡ªthere were no suitable thin ropes nearby.


    Warrant Officer Winters was now practically crippled: the spot on his left shoulder where Aike had struck had turned from green to purple, and every movement caused pain;


    his right foot had been pierced by a caltrop, but given that he had not developed a fever, it seemed it wasn''t too serious. After the wound was cleaned, wrapping it in clean cotton cloth was counted as a solution;


    the most frightening injury was a cut on his right arm left by some crazed woman. After the wound reopened several times despite attempts to stop the bleeding, it just wouldn''t close. The flesh was turned outwards, constantly seeping blood.


    The officers all knew that the wound should be stitched up, but no one dared to do it. In the end, it took Major Moritz downing a bottle of rum, and, bolstered by the alcohol, he took a fish hook and some cotton thread to sew more than a dozen clumsy stitches in Winters'' arm;


    The pain from his "third hand," or phantom limb, had considerably lessened, but it had started to itch instead. And itching was even more unbearable than the pain.


    Furthermore, Winters was still unable to use magic. Any attempt to concentrate would trigger intense phantom limb pain, preventing him from maintaining a state suitable for casting spells.


    In the span of one day, Winters had gone from student to warrant officer, in addition to having three injuries and temporarily losing his magical abilities.


    "How long has this ship been here? When are we going to set sail?" Winters just wanted to get back home for a good sleep.


    Andre alsocked his usual vigor and leaned against the railing despondently.


    The ship they were on was called the Bandit Gull, amunications vessel within the Sea Blue navy''s ind fleet. The Bandit Gull hadn''t taken the trainee officers straight home but instead carried them east across Senas Bay to the Taniria Inds.


    Once they reached the Taniria Inds, the Bandit Gull first anchored outside the harbor overnight. The next morning, it docked at this pier and had stayed here for a whole day with no sign of action from the captain.


    Since Lieutenant General Layton had strictly forbidden any officer from disembarking, Winters and the others could only watch the bustling world ashore with envy, unable to go down and explore. Eventually, out of boredom, they ended up throwing stones from the ship''s stern castle.


    "It''ll be soon, very soon. The cargo broker will be here any moment," the first mate of the Bandit Gull climbed up to the stern castle and cheerily approached Winters and the others.


    For a moment, Winters and hispanions exchanged nces, unsure whether to salute. While Winters racked his brains recalling the naval ranking system, Bard spoke first, "This cargo broker you mentioned, who are they? Are they in charge of regting who enters and leaves the port?"


    The first mate didn''t answer immediately but instead flipped his hand and handed several yellow fruits to Winters and the others, "Try these, a delicacy from Taniria."


    Winters and hispanions had never seen these fruits before, and received them with suspicion. They didn''t dare eat them, unsure of how to proceed.


    "Just eat them directly, or you can peel them," the first mate said, taking another fruit and demonstrating how to eat it for the three young warrant officers. He peeled away the outer skin, revealing the yellow fruit underneath, and quickly ate it all.


    Winters followed the first mate''s example and peeled the skin, tentatively taking a bite of the fruit. It was sweet and juicy, extremely delicious. He quickly devoured one of the fruits and wanted another.


    "What is this fruit called? I''ve never eaten it before," Winters said, encountering such a fruit for the first time.


    "It has no name, the locals just call it ''Sweetwater,'' it''s a type of berry from the ind."


    "I''ve also never had this before, I haven''t even seen it," added Andre, while Bard nodded. Clearly, both of them also liked the fruit.


    "It''s hard to store. Once picked from the tree, it rots in less than a day," the first mate said nonchntly. "That''s why besides the ind''s locals, only us sailors can taste it."


    "What were you guys asking earlier? What does a cargo broker do?" The first mate took more fruits from the pouch he was carrying to distribute to the three, exining seriously, "A cargo broker helps shipowners sell or buy goods. We don''t have time to slowly sell off the cargo in our hold, nor do we have time to buy slowly, so we look for cargo brokers. They have connections and can clear out a ship or fill one up in one fell swoop."


    "Wait¡­" Winters keenly sensed a conflict in the information he''d received, "Aren''t you a part of the ind navy? Why would you need a cargo broker to sell and buy goods?"


    "Hahaha" Winters'' question set the first mate off into a chuckle, "How could we possibly be navy? Look at me, do I look like a naval officer? Then look at the Bandit Gull, does it look like a warship?"


    "Isn''t the Bandit Gull a navymunications vessel?"


    ```


    "It''s just a nominal title, with the navy being the minor shareholder of the Bandit Gull."


    "Then why is the Bandit Gull the one taking us home?"


    "The navymissioned the work, and besides carrying cargo, we sometimes take on passenger transport like this. Just like now, aren''t we carrying a few other people besides you?"


    Winters finally understood what those few people on the Bandit Gull were there for; they were neither army soldiers nor sailors. He had originally thought they were the shipowners, but it turned out they were just passengers.


    "No wonder," Winters sighed, "I was wondering why a navy ship would be so small?"


    In Winters'' eyes, the Bandit Gull indeed wasn''t big; he had seen many cargo ships muchrger than the Bandit Gull.


    The Bandit Gull had only two decks, with the topmost being the open deck. Below was another deck, and further down, the bottom of the ship.


    Moreover, because the Bandit Gull''s freeboard was not high, the second deck was already below the waterline, so the cabins under the open deck could at most have a small vent, not capable of having windows, and naturally, they couldn''t be fitted with cannons.


    This small ship not onlycked a dedicated gun deck, but it also had no cannons at all. Winters wandered around the ship a few times, and not to mention cannons, he hadn''t even seen cannonballs, and now he finally understood why.


    "The navy doesn''t actually have that many real warships; they''re all just nominallymercial ships like the Bandit Gull." Upon hearing someone belittle the Bandit Gull, the first mate was somewhat displeased and tried to highlight the ship''s advantages: "The Bandit Gull isn''t that small either, capable of carrying a hundred tons or more¡ªhow is that small? Moreover, the Bandit Gull''s rigging is designed exceptionally well, very easy to control; it only takes about a dozen sailors to handle it well."


    "With only about a dozen sailors needed to handle it, that''s why squeezing in over thirty more people is nearly killing us," Andre fired another shot.


    The Bandit Gull''s cabins were meant for holding cargo, and theoretically, they could also amodate people, but theycked venttion, had poor lighting, and the living conditions were extremely harsh.


    It was for this reason that an extra forecastle and two aft castles were added to improve the sailors'' living environment.


    The second floor of the aft castle was a separate small room. It was originally meant for the captain, but the highest-ranking person on board was clearly Admiral Layton. The admiral naturally took the best single cabin without hesitation.


    The first floor of the aft castle was arge room, given to Winters and the other injured Spellcasters to stay in;


    Major Moritz and the captain shared amodations in the forecastle;


    The other trainee officers could only squeeze into the cabins with the sailors, and after leaving the rainy area, the warrant officers simply opted to sleep on the open deck, following the example of the sailors.


    Because life at sea was tough, the Sea Blue cadets always traveled bynd when returning home in the past, never by ship. Traveling by ship was not only riskier, but the experience was also inferior. If one traveled bynd, they could stay at ry stations, enjoying food and drink all the way home.


    This year, however, they were told to take a ship back because "the road is not easy to travel." What was supposed to be a pleasure trip turned into an ordeal, and every time they thought about it, it enraged all the trainee officers.


    "Although it''s a bit cramped, the Bandit Gull is very fast," the first mate persisted.


    "What good is speed if you''re going in the wrong direction?" Andre was relentless.


    The first mate conceded defeat, feeling in the wrong: "There''s nothing we can do, running a direct route between Sea Blue City and Guidao City doesn''t make much money, so the ships in the Senas Sea all run triangr routes. Don''t worry, we''ll head straight for Sea Blue City as soon as we leave port."


    "Clomp, clomp, clomp," Major Moritz also climbed up to the aft castle; he was there to ask the first mate to help buy some liquor. Because of Admiral Layton''s confinement order, Major Moritz couldn''t leave the ship either. Between his own drinking and supplying the Spellcaster students with "medicinal" use, his rum stock had beenpletely depleted two days ago.


    Without the "water of life," the major''s spirits had clearly been down over the past few days.


    "Mr. First Mate, could you please also rece the ship''s water barrels with new ones? The sides of the barrels are covered in green slime. When I touched it, it felt slick and slimy. Aren''t you afraid of getting sick drinking that water?" Major Moritz hadn''t consumed any liquids for two days, having no liquor and being unable to stomach the ship''s freshwater reserves.


    Hearing the major''s description, Winters felt a chill, as he had been drinking the ship''s freshwater these past days.


    "Alright, alright, I''ll have the sailors clean the water barrels right away," the first mate hurried off.


    Vendors on the water near the docks in small rafts were selling local fruits and vegetables to the sailors. The major whistled, signaling one of the rafts toe over.


    The major gestured to take everything. No one saw where he pulled a silver coin from, but with a light flick, the silver coin urately slipped into the vendor''s hand.


    "You guys go bring his food and drink aboard and share it with everyone," the major, clearly having withdrawal symptoms,manded, "I''m going to rest for a while. Wake me when the liquor is back."


    Although he had just thrown out a silver coin, now the major had another silver coin in his hand, which he yed with absently as he left the aft castle.


    "Is that some kind of magic trick?" Andre peered out to nce at the vendor and then looked back at the major: "He didn''t make the silver coin he gave away reappear, did he?"


    "How could that be? It''s just one more coin, but I thought the way he tossed the coin into the person''s arms was pretty impressive."


    Later that day, the Bandit Gull emptied its cargo of ironware and leather brought from Guidao City, loaded up with sugar and tobo in the Taniria Inds, and set sail for Sea Blue.

 Chapter 32: Chapter 22 Inland Sea

    After Bandit Gull was loaded with sugar and tobo in Tanilia, it was cutting through the waves toward Va. Its bow stirred up great sprays of water, splitting the waves aside along the hull and leaving a faint trail at the stern, as if it were the only vessel left between heaven and earth.


    Bandit Gull swayed side to side with the rhythm of the sea, the amplitude of swaying greater at higher positions. At the top of the mast, the swaying even exceeded the width of the ship''s body.


    Winters looked up to see the sailor who had asked him for a drink a few days earlier scaling the mast without any protective gear, nimbly like a monkey, and he quickly reached the topmost yardarm.


    "Seems like I don''t have the talent for working on a ship. I couldn''t do that job," said Andre, watching the sailor working high above, with heart pounding.


    "Neither do I," Winters said as he watched the sailor climb so high, his hands and feet tingling. "What''s he going to do up there?"


    "He''s going to tie up the square sails. We will be sailing into the wind on the next leg of the journey, using only the jibs and staysails," the first mate of Bandit Gull enthusiastically imparted some nautical knowledge to Andre and Winters.


    Senas Bay is normally tame, sheltered bynd on the west side and shielded by the Tanilia Archipgo on the east, so there usually aren''t any strong winds or big waves.


    The terrain of Alliance Country slopes from high in the west to low in the east, and the rivers that flow down from the western hignds drain into the sea here, forming many t and fertile estuarine deltas along the coastline. Cities like Sea Blue and others are situated on typical alluvial ins.


    Therefore, ships that sail in these waters, to be able to enter shallow seas and river mouths, usually don''t have a deep draft.


    Bandit Gull is neither an ocean-going vessel nor a coastal ship; it belongs to a "hybrid" breed, adopting whatever design is useful, a prime example of pragmatism.


    Although Bandit Gull has a shallow and t hull like coastal ships, it is equipped with a keel designed to withstand wind and waves. For the sake of speed, Bandit Gull has three masts on a not-sorge ship, greedily equipped with both square sails and triangr fore-and-aft sails.


    "Does sailing into the wind mean we''ll be going against the wind?" Winters took the opportunity to ask a question he had been pondering while there was a naval expert at hand.


    "We don''t say ''against the wind'' or ''unfavourable wind'' on the ship; we call this situation ''sailing into the wind.'' And yes, next we have to sail into the wind," the first mate reminded him of thenguage taboo aboard the ship.


    "Alright, sailing into the wind. But I don''t understand why the ship can sail into the wind?" This question had left Winterspletely puzzled.


    "It''s actually quite simple," the first mate exined to Winters. "Angle the ship and the sails to the wind, and the ship will move forward at an angle."


    "But why exactly can angling the ship and sails to the wind make it move forward?" This was the real question Winters wanted to understand.


    "Uh..." This question actually stumped the first mate: "This... I don''t know why myself. I just know that doing this allows the ship to sail at an angle into the wind, but as for the specifics, I really don''t know¡ªI''ve never thought about it."


    "Then it seems that you too are a spellcaster," Winters said with augh. "You too can wield a power that you can''t exin yourself."


    A few passengers who were taking this ship from Sea Blue to Va were also on the deck for some fresh air, standing behind Winters. Overhearing Winters''ment, one of the men stealthily sized Winters up.


    "What is a spellcaster?"


    "It''s a mage."


    "Ha ha, if I were a mage, I would conjure myself gold that I could never spend in my lifetime."


    "If you could just conjure gold at will, gold would no longer be valuable."


    A series of urgent bell rings interrupted the two men''s casual talk, as the lookout at the top of the mast loudly reported, "Port side, forty degrees! Sails! Port side, forty degrees! Sails!"


    The first officer, upon hearing there was a ship to port, quickly ran to the forecastle, and Winters followed.


    "I can''t see anything," Winters squinted, only to see the sea and sky.


    "When the lookout atop the mast can see the other ship''s mast, we can''t see anything from our position. We have to wait until the lookout can see the hull before we can see their mast," the first officer added, "Not seeing is good, it means the other ship is also circling around us."


    At that moment, the captain of the Bandit Gull also arrived at the forecastle. The captain was a plump middle-aged man, a rarity among seafaring men to have such a round face.


    "Forty degrees to port, the lookout has spotted sails," the first officer briefly reported the situation.


    "The other ship has taken the windward position." Without any hesitation, the stout captain immediately ordered the helmsman, "Turn with the wind! Adjust the mainsail!"


    The helmsman immediately turned the wheel to the right, and the Bandit Gull began to list leftward, the wooden frame groaning under the pressure. The ship left an arcing wake as it adjusted to a downwind course.


    "Let''s give them some room, then return to our original course, maintaining a distance from them." The fat captain held considerable respect for the army officers, and seeing that Winters and Andre were puzzled, he took the time to exin: "If the other party doesn''t harbor ill intent, they''ll also be concerned about our intentions and keep their distance."


    This made both Winters and Andre look at each other in surprise.


    "Harbor ill intent? Are there really pirates on the inner sea?" Andre found it hard to believe. Senas Bay could be described as the Alliance''s bathtub, fishpond, and backyard, colloquially known as the "Inner Sea." Could there really be pirates in such a ce?


    "It might not necessarily be pirates, considering this is a busy shipping route." The fat captain sounded quite rxed: "But pirates are always around, and because of the inner sea''s busy trade, there are actually quite a few pirates."


    He chuckled, "Besides, wasn''t the Alliance Navy originally just a bunch of pirates? If you all helped me rob other ships, then the Bandit Gull would be a pirate ship too."


    "Would anyone bother to rob a small ship like the Bandit Gull?"


    "The Bandit Gull is not small. Even smaller ships get robbed. Pirates favor light ships. Large ships have more crew, making them hard targets for pirates and therefore safer."


    "But surely the navy patrols the inner sea with warships?"


    "The navy doesn''t have many pure warships; they''re mostly like the Bandit Gull, nominally merchantmen. Shipbuilding has to be profitable, after all!" The fat captain began to share some business wisdom with Winters and Andre: "A ship must earn back its building cost for the owner to break even, and that''s after deducting wages and maintenance costs for the profit. The money made after breaking even is the real earnings for the owner. Warships that don''t carry cargo are pure expenditure, a guaranteed loss."


    "Doesn''t the navy fight the pirates, then?" To Winters, if there were brigands, shouldn''t they just be dealt with? While the Standing Army wasn''trge, it didn''t hinder the military from mping down on organized robbery gangs.


    "Merchant ships are all armed. When armed merchantmen have evil thoughts, they be pirates; when they earnestly run ships, they are businessmen. You can''t eradicate thempletely." The fat captain seemed to enjoy enlightening these young soldiers and patiently exined: "To truly eliminate piracy, you must start with the fencing operations, which the Alliance can''t control."


    "The Alliance allows pirates to fence their goods on its own soil?" The news was more shocking than thest.


    "Not within the Alliance, but in Tanilia. After robbing, pirates fence their goods in Tanilia ¨C it''s a well-established process." The fat captain revealed a meaningful smile: "Who knows? There might even be stolen goods among this cargo. After all, pirates are the source of cheap goods, right?"


    "Then¡­ what if you get robbed?" The fat captain''s symbiotic philosophy with pirates left Winters and Andre speechless.


    The fat captain answeredposedly, "I just have to not get robbed. Don''t worry too much; it''s not so easy to encounter pirates."


    "Dang! Dang! Dang!" The lookout sounded the urgent bell once more, his voice hoarse as he reported, "Aft direction! Hull!"


    The people on deck quickly rushed back to the stern castle, and this time, they saw the sails.

 Chapter 33: Chapter 23 Determination

    "Hey, they really came?" The corpulent captain''s tone was unusually rxed, seeing that the visitors meant harm, yet he bore an expression as if he had an ace up his sleeve, "Raise the g, raise the naval g."


    Sailors climbed up the mainmast, the blue and yellow striped g symbolizing the Sea Blue Republic was taken down, reced by a striking red diagonal cross g fluttering in the wind.


    This g represented the Va Navy; the blue symbolized Va, the red symbolized blood, and the meaning of the g was that the navy had established the Sea Blue Republic with blood.


    But in reality, the true reason for choosing red back then was because the g''s designers thought it was more conspicuous and could be recognized from afar. The interpretation involving blood cameter, eventually turning into a misconstrued fact that became the official exnation.


    The fat captain, with his hands on his hips, boasted to thendlubbers, "On the ind sea, pirates will give the navy some face no matter what. Seeing this g, any viin harboring ill intentions would retreat on their own."


    The captain''s decisive leadership affected the trainee officers, it seemed they wouldn''t encounter pirates today, and Winters felt a twinge of disappointment in his heart.


    But soon, the situation developed beyond the fat captain''s prediction. Winters watched as the other vessel first revealed its masts, then sails, and then the deck until the entire ship came into view.


    If he wasn''t hallucinating, that meant the distance between the two ships was shrinking.


    The fat captain remainedposed, "They probably can''t see the g clearly from that far away, give them some time."


    After "some time," Winters could clearly see the bare tops of the masts of the approaching ship¡ªthey weren''t flying any g. This meant they could also clearly see the Bandit Gull''s g, and the neers weren''t deterred by the sight of the naval g.


    "Let down all sails, full sail ahead," the fat captain finally got a bit anxious. Sailors obeyed themand and climbed along the rigging up to the yardarms, unfurling the neatly bundled sails, as the Bandit Gull''s main and foremasts were again hung with square sails.


    The sails on the Bandit Gull''s three masts were now full of wind, causing those on the deck to stagger. Even the most obtuse passengers could feel the ship slowly elerating, and the bewildered trainee officers walked up from the cabins onto the deck, even Major General Layton and Major Moritz came out.


    "It''s fine, their sails are small; they''re not fast even at full speed. The Bandit Gull will be able to shake them off shortly," the fat captain said while wiping the sweat from his forehead.


    The sails of the Bandit Gull, inted by the wind, suddenly started to dete, the sea being a fickle lover, the power of the wind was waning.


    "It''s okay if the wind has died down, The Bandit Gull has more sails than they do; if we slow down, they''ll slow down even more," the fat captain confidently assessed.


    No sooner had he spoken than under the gaze of everyone aboard the Bandit Gull, the opposing ship''s sides extended a pair of "wings" and began beating the water.


    They were oars; the oing ship was not only equipped with sails but also with oars. As the wind diminished, but with the rowing of the oars, the oer''s speed increased instead of decreasing, and the distance between the two vessels quickly closed.


    Actually, a mix of oars and sails was the standard configuration in Senas Bay at that time; ships sailing in these waters were mostly t-bottomed with square sails, using sails with the wind,plemented by a set of oars for use against it.


    A ship like the Bandit Gull, rigged withplex tackle and powered solely by the wind, was the outlier in the ind sea. While this type of ship with strong self-reliance and requiring fewer sailors to operate represented the future, when it came to short-distance maneuverability in light winds, it was seriously outssed by the more traditional oar-and-sail ships.


    The distance between the two ships closed even further, so close that Winters could see ant-sized people climbing on the sails of the other ship.


    Someone climbed to the top of the mast and raised a g divided equally between red and ck.


    "Whose g is that?" Layton asked in a heavy tone, having grasped the predicament the Bandit Gull was in.


    "It belongs to no one," the fat captain said with a whimper, "The meaning of that g is that if we don''t stop and surrender, they''ll kill us all, not sparing a single life."


    There was a sudden sh of red light at the bow of the oing ship, followed by a puff of white smoke. "Boom!" A cannon shot rang out, a gray object flew from the prow of the other ship to behind the hull of the Bandit Gull, sshing water.


    Oar-and-sail ships kept their sides clear for the rowers, so the main guns were mounted at the bow. This shot was clearly intended as a show of force to the Bandit Gull.


    "Pirates just want the cargo; if we can''t get away, just give them what''s in the hold," one of the passengers aboard the Bandit Gull spoke up; they weren''t willing to risk their lives for the ship owner''s benefit, since the pirates weren''t robbing them specifically.


    "Give it to them, if they only want the cargo, that''s fine," the fat captain''s legs had gone weak and he could barely stand, "I''m afraid they''ll want the ship as well! The most valuable thing at sea isn''t the cargo, it''s the ship!"


    "Give them hell! Not even a speck of dirt!" A thunderous voice made the fat captain sit abruptly on the ground; Major General Layton was furious. With zing red eyes, he bellowed, "They rob you and you give? To hell with that! What would that do to my reputation if this got out? Where would the pride of the Sea Blue Army be?!"


    Escape being hopeless, the fat captain had already considered surrendering. The prospect of losing everything, both ship and cargo, filled him with grief, better that than to lose his life, right? But seeing Major General Layton''s defiance, he suddenly found a backbone and sensed a glimmer of hope to save both the ship and its goods.

 Chapter 34: Chapter 23 Determination_2

    "You''re right, General, these pirates may not be a match for us in a real fight," the chubby captain muttered as he started tallying, "We have more than fifty men on this ship, each one a brave soul. The approaching pirate ship isn''t big, they might not have as many men as us."


    "That''s right!" the chubby captain decided loudly, "Fight a battle, we''re sure to win."


    "Then let''s do it!" Major General Layton firmly pped the ship''s gunwale.


    "Easy there!" Some passengers didn''t know how they got dragged into a fight with pirates, "What if they just sink us outright? They have cannons."


    "They won''t, pirates are after money, no profit in sinking the Bandit Gull," the chubby captain transformed from a surrender advocate to a hawkish stance, "And we have cannons too, right here in the hold."


    "You have cannons and you don''t mount them on deck, you keep them in the hold for what?" Major Moritz, who had been silent, pointed at the chubby captain''s nose and demanded.


    "The Bandit Gull has a shallow draft and high freeboard, the center of gravity isn''t stable, I''m afraid we''ll capsize with the cannons on deck," the chubby captain licked his lips, "We have four six-pounders and several swivel guns in the ship."


    "Bring them all up!"


    "General! Please wait..." An elegant middle-aged passenger dressed meticulously stood out, "You must understand, you''re risking your officers'' lives to guard the ship owner''s property!"


    "I''m defending the honor of the Va Army!" Major General Layton retorted sharply.


    "This has nothing to do with honor!"


    "Honor is the lifeblood of a soldier! If my officers value their lives over their honor, then they don''t deserve to be officers! You say I don''t care about my subordinates'' lives? After boarding, I''ll be the first to jump over!" Major General Layton''s words left everyone on deck in utter silence.


    "Surrendering doesn''t guarantee safety," the chubby captain was the first to snap back to his senses, earnestly chiming in, "Pirates will strip all the money from you before taking hostages for ransom. If the ransom can''t be paid, you''re sold off as a ve to the ntations of Tanilia."


    The middle-aged passenger of some social standing fell silent; whether cowed by the Major General''s resolve or confused by the chubby captain''s mix of truth and bluster wasn''t clear.


    "Enough talk! Ready the weapons!" The Major General mmed his fist against the capstan at the stern.


    He walked to the edge of the quarterdeck, locking eyes with the warrant officers on the deck, and spoke with vehement disdain, "The ship behind us is a pirate vessel; they''vee for us. Some say you''re worthless, can''t stand up to pirates, and might as well surrender. Any coward who wants to give up, step forward, and I''ll give you a small boat to surrender in!"


    He swept his gaze around, and the warrant officers didn''t budge, "Very well, sons of Va, how could you possibly surrender to pirates? You are officers trained with great effort by the army; it''s time to see what you''re made of! Are you cowards or heroes? Try and see today! A bunch of (expletive) worthless scum dares to trouble us? Go get your weapons! Follow me and exterminate these bastards!"


    The warrant officers roared with excitement, and Winters felt as if a ze had ignited in his chest; he jumped from the quarterdeck and dashed straight to the hold for his longsword.


    Major Moritz spoke to the chubby captain with a disgruntled tone, "You''re lucky today; this fight looks inevitable now. It''s indeed not right for the proud army to surrender to pirates. But maybe we can devise a reasonable n..."


    Winters jumped down two levels from the quarterdeck straight to the hold to search for his luggage; his longsword was with it. Even though his longsword was a blunt practice sword used in swordsmanship sses, it was the only weapon he could think of in such short notice.


    Only when he actually held the sword did he realize it might not be suitable for use on a ship. The longsword was too long; to swing it freely, the surrounding vertical clearance would need to be at least three and a half meters.


    It would be especially difficult to wield it in the cramped, low-ceiling space of the hold, likely hitting the ceiling or the walls. It wasn''t much better on deck, either, because of the ropes lying around, which could easily snag the de.


    But Winters had no other weapons at his disposal, so he still secured the longsword to his side; having it was certainly better than nothing.


    Suddenly remembering the female pirate''s dagger, Winters hastily searched for his belongings. Aike had carefully wrapped his shoulder bag with his luggage, and he found the dagger quickly.


    The dagger, having been used for a Luminosity Spell, had transformed from amon metal hue to a red and ck mix. Winters tried it out; it was still very sharp, so he tucked it into his belt as a backup weapon.


    Bard also entered the cabin to get a longsword and, seeing Winters securing the dagger to his belt, hurriedly stopped him, "Look at the state you''re in; don''t even think about boarding. Your arm''s just been stitched up, any strong movement and it''ll rip open, won''t it?"


    "Then stitch it up again!" Winters couldn''t possibly let his schoolmates andrades fight while he yed the invalid in the back.


    After shing with the female pirate, he knew firsthand how dangerous realbat was, potentially lethal, but he was even less willing to be a coward.


    "You go help the artillery crew with the cannons; we won''t miss one man in hand-to-handbat," Bard said resolutely.


    Winters acted as if he hadn''t heard, and walked straight out of the lower quarterdeck that was set aside for the resting spellcaster casualties. As soon as he stepped out, he saw the first mate and a sailor lifting a barrel filled with swords onto the deck, distributing them one by one to the crew.

 Chapter 35: Chapter 23 Decision_3

    Winters also hurried to switch to a single-handed curved saber. The de of the saber was wider, shorter in length, with the center of gravity positioned towards the front, and it had arge guard.


    He often saw sailors carrying this type of saber. Holding it in his hand for a moment, he immediately understood why the sailors favored this weapon.


    Its shorter length made it more convenient to wield on the narrow confines of a ship, less likely to get caught on the ship''s body or cables. The wide de and forward center of gravity made for more powerful chops. Sailors didn''t wear armor, so the cleaving effect was exceptional.


    "We need a few more men to help move the cannon! Come on!" Just as Winters had exchanged for the more practical short saber, he heard a call for help from the cabin and immediately went to assist.


    When Winters climbed down thedder to the lower deck, several artillery trainee officers were exerting all their strength to move an iron cannon.


    The ship''s cannons were short-barreled, notrge in caliber but with thick walls ringed with iron hoops, exceedingly cumbersome. Moreover, the cabin was small and crammed with cargo, giving the warrant officers no good way to apply force.


    Winters looked around and thought that unloading the cargo would make it easier to move the cannons, but it was clear that unloading was not feasible at the moment. So, he could only go over and lend a hand, but the cannon could still only be inch out very slowly.


    Major Moritz also came down to the lower deck and, seeing the trainee officers moving the cannon, felt like he was going to be driven insane by these youngsters'' stupidity: "Don''t bother with these old six-pounders; can you move them? Is there time? Don''t we have swivel guns? Where are they?"


    Spotting the swivel guns equipped on the Bandit Gull, Major Moritz''s eyes brightened up: "Oh, they''re breech-loading swivel guns? Perfect! Just the thing for fighting pirates."


    "Where are the chambers? Get the chambers out first." The major started searching through the lower deck on his own and eventually found the swivel guns'' chambers in a few wooden crates: "Send a few men to load the chambers with powder first, and just carry one swivel gun body up; that will be enough."


    The breech-loading swivel guns on the Bandit Gull were known as culverins or "mother-and-son cannons" in the Silk Country. Gunpowder and cannonballs were loaded into a chamber, which was then inserted into the back of the main gun before igniting. Thebustion process mainly urred within the chamber, with the main body of the gun acting as a barrel.


    The advantage was that multiple chambers could be prepared in advance, recing one after firing quickly without needing to load each shot individually, providing a fast rate of fire.


    The downside, due to limitations of the craftmanship, was that there were serious air leaks at the junction between the chamber and the gun body. Therefore, the guns had very low power and could not shoot far. However, they were entirely adequate for close-range boarding actions.


    Upon the major''s words, Winters and several gunnery warrant officers abandoned the six-pounders and turned to lift the swivel gun instead.


    "Don''t just busy yourself with carrying the gun body; load the chambers with powder, take all the chambers with you," chided Major Moritz, finding it both annoying and funny to see the young men hurriedly move therge cannon and then the swivel guns: "Take it easy, it''s just dozens of pirates, you''ll face much bigger scenes in the future."


    Winters, directed by the major, and another gunnery warrant officer hoisted several small swivel gun barrels up to the lower deck.


    By then, the lower deck was inplete chaos, with warrant officers and sailors running back and forth, each unsure of what they were busy with but all appearing very busy.


    Winters stopped the first mate, who was carrying a matchlock gun, and asked him to take two men to fetch gunpowder and lead shot.


    The corpulent captain was stingy, a person of umtion without dispensation, treasuring everything excessively.


    He had everything a merchant ship should have:rge guns, swivel guns, matchlock guns, swords, gunpowder. But he kept everything locked up, carefully stored on the ship and never taken out for the sailors to practice with, lest they get damaged by the rough handling of the sailors.


    In the fat captain''s eyes, the most important thing was to prevent the ship and all its property from depreciating.


    But when the first mate smashed the locks and opened the "treasured" gunpowder barrels, Winters was at a loss¡ªhe only knew how to use matchlock guns but had never learned how to handle cannons.


    "How do we load the powder?" Winters asked, holding several swivel gun chambers, unsure what to do.


    "Load it just like you would a musket!" the gunnery warrant officer replied with reprimand, not looking back as he busied himself.


    "What I mean is, how much? How much powder do we load? And what about the cannonballs?" The gunpowder was too little; it wouldn''t be enough, too much, and the gunner would be blown up first.


    "There''s no time to find cannonballs, just use lead shot as canister. The amount of lead shot you load, that''s how much powder you use."


    "Are you talking about volume or weight?"


    "Enough, you go find some match," the gunnery warrant officer said irritably, snatching the chambers from Winters''s hands and sending him away.

 Chapter 36: Chapter 24 Switching Sides

    Captain Gold rested his hand on the curved sword at his waist, gazing from the bow at the distant three-masted clipper.


    The fat captain of the Bandit Gull once said that "merchant ships with wicked thoughts turn into pirates, and honest pirates running ships are merchants," but this time he was wrong. Because robbery was not Captain Gold''s hobby¡ªit was his full-time job. "Good Fortune" Gold was a full-time pirate of the ind seas, specializing in the promising industry of maritime robbery.


    The reason why "Good Fortune" Gold acquired his nickname was because the Goddess of Luck always smiled at him.


    Many pirate ships would often get caught by the Alliance navy, but he always managed to escape. When faced with tough prey, after a bloody battle where every surviving pirate was wounded, he woulde out unscathed every time.


    Sailors said: Bullets would curve around "Good Fortune" Gold. There were also whispers spreading quietly in the cabin: Good Fortune Gold had made a deal with the devil, and evil ck magic protected him.


    However, Gold''s luck had indeed always been excellent, so much so that he even named his ship "Good Fortune."


    Like now, if it weren''t for the wind stopping, there was no way a galley like the Good Fortune could ever catch up to the three-masted clipper ahead. But just as luck would have it, the wind stopped and thus the ship, no matter how many sails it had, could only be the prey of the Good Fortune.


    Gold saw that after he raised the ck and red g, the small ship ahead had already lowered the naval g and raised the white g.


    The ease of scaring the opponent into surrendering owed much to therge cannon on the bow of the Good Fortune. Thisrge-caliber stone cannon was Captain Gold''s prized possession, acquired through a fortunate coincidence and a high price.


    Nobody on the Good Fortune knew how to use the cannon, but fortunately, it wasn''t necessary for actualbat. Just loading the gunpowder and stone shot and firing a shot was enough; upon hearing the cannon fire, even the toughest prey would surrender.


    Arge-caliber stone cannon could dispel any merchant ship''s fantasies of boardingbat.


    The merchant ship on the opposite side raised the Va naval g, not softening at the knees just from a st of the cannon? As for that naval g, Gold didn''t care much.


    He was aware of the details of the various Alliance navies; there were many merchant ships registered with the navy. The weaker and less capable a merchant ship was of defending itself, the more it preferred to register with the navy of different countries, paying a protection fee and getting a naval g in return.


    A naval g could possibly scare away armed merchant ships with malicious intentions, but it could not scare away Good Fortune Gold.


    In the ind seas, shipse and go, why would I be afraid to rob you just because you hang a Va naval g? Besides, on this vast sea, if I rob you, would the Va navy even know? And even if the Va navy knew, what could they do to me?


    Moreover, this time, Good Fortune Gold came specifically for the naval g. Three masts, a light vessel, registered under the Va navy, appearing here at this time¡ªall the intelligence confirmed it. No mistake, it was this ship!


    Seeing the opponent had already raised the white g and surrendered, the corners of Captain Gold''s mouth almost split to his ears, and he was bursting with excitement: "I''ve struck it rich! This time, I''ve struck it rich!"


    Gold could hardly wait to board the ship ahead. To him, the Good Fortune''s speed seemed as slow as a turtle, and the rich prize within arm''s reach made him anxious. He called to his first mate, "Do the rowers want to die? Are they not putting in the effort? Why are they rowing so slow? Go make them row with all their might!"


    The first mate heeded Gold''smand, grabbed a whip, and walked down to the open deck, starting tosh those wretched rowers on the lower decks.


    Like the Bandit Gull, the Good Fortune had two decks, but both decks of the Good Fortune were above the waterline.


    In fact, rather than saying the Good Fortune had two decks, it would be more urate to say that the Good Fortune was a t-bottomed tub with an illegally addedyer of a through-deck building acting as an open deck.


    The rowers on the Good Fortune were positioned on the second deck, each with one foot chained next to the oar, without even space to turn around, they could only row.


    The rowers weren''t the pirates of the Good Fortune; no free man would willingly be a rower. The rowers were sailors from the merchant ships that Good Fortune Gold had robbed.


    The cargo was taken, the ship was sold, some of the sailors were sold off, and some were kept to row on the Good Fortune.


    The rowers were shackled, eating, drinking, relieving themselves, and sleeping all next to the oar. Even when the pirates went ashore to rest, the rowers wouldn''t be released.


    With poor food, bad sleep, and high work pressure, even a strong man wouldn''tst long in such conditions.


    But luckily, there were always new victims to rece them. The rowers were just receable parts of the Good Fortune, needing recement every so often.


    For the rowers, there were only two ways out: die next to the oar or somehow manage to be a pirate.


    On the Good Fortune, there were ten rows of oars, each oar manned by two rowers, totaling forty rowers. Together with the more than fifty pirates, that was the entire crew of the Good Fortune.


    Almost a hundred crew members for a ship of Good Fortune''s size seemed overly bloated. Thus, the Good Fortune had very poor self-sustainability, and it had to dock again for supplies and rest after only one or two days at sea.


    Ordinary galleys had sailors who doubled as rowers. But on the Good Fortune, with the freebor from human beasts, the pirates naturally didn''t want to also be rowers; they wanted to save their strength for possible hand-to-handbat.


    The Good Fortune closed in on the Bandit Gull until they were only a few ship-lengths away. Captain Gold directed the Good Fortune to intimidatingly circle around the Bandit Gull.

 Chapter 37: Chapter 24 Switching Sides_2

    It wasn''t just to intimidate the enemy, but also Captain Gold''s cautious desire to take a closer look at this small boat:


    The fattest one must be the captain; no sailor could have so much flesh, and his clothes were also the finest. This man was standing at the bow, looking absolutely flustered and wiping sweat from his brow without stopping.


    Captain Goldughed heartily, "We can''t sell this fatso; he must stay and row on the Good Fortune until he drops dead."


    There were seven or eight others left on deck, typical sailor-looking types, with worn clothes and skin darkened and cracked from the sun''s rays. Two years ago, Good Fortune Gold had been such a wretched sailor, but now he was a Hunter.


    There must be more sailors on this ship, definitely some hiding in the dark corners of the boat, praying to escape this ordeal. There was no hurry; they could be slowly sniffed out. No one could get away on the vast sea.


    The Good Fortune retracted the oars on the side close to the Bandit Gull, while the pirates threw grappling hooks with ropes toward Bandit Gull, all the while making wild cries to scare the sailors on board.


    The hooks bit into the Bandit Gull''s side, pulling the gap between the two ships closer inch by inch. Four boarding nks with hooks stretched towards the Bandit Gull, hooking firmly onto the ship''s hull.


    Done! These boarding nks had hooks on both sides. Once hooked, they were extremely difficult to release. Now Bandit Gull was firmly connected to the Good Fortune, and now not even the fat captain could run away, even if he regretted it.


    Over a dozen anxious pirates didn''t wait for Gold''s order and rushed onto the Bandit Gull''s deck, which greatly irritated Good Fortune Gold.


    Within the pirate democracy to some extent, the captain, aside from a small private room, didn''t have much privilege, and could even be voted off the ship by the sailors if things went wrong.


    The rule for robbery was that all spoils must be evenly distributed, but pirates who boarded the prey''s ship first would definitely grab more scattered silver coins.


    So, every time as soon as the boarding nk was in ce, the pirates would rush on board in a frenzy, and Gold was unable to restrain them. If he used harsh measures, his throat could be cut by the pirates and "voted off the ship" that very night.


    "The crew''s hearts are too scattered, and the team is hard to lead," sighed Gold, shaking his head, as he also headed towards the Bandit Gull.


    What Bandit Gull faced from Good Fortune Gold, however, was a piercing whistle. Bandit Gull tore off its sheep''s clothing disguise, and what the pirates saw as a fattenedmb showed its fangs and ws, as arge group of young men in military uniforms and armed with weapons poured out from the prow castle, stern castle, and cabins of Bandit Gull.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Line break ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Major Layton threw his whistle fiercely, making true on his promise to be "the first to jump in."


    The major roared, "Follow me, you bastards!" and then leapt down from the stern castle, crashing onto the open deck of Good Fortune, making the entire ship tremble upon hisnding.


    Most of the warrant officers used single-handed weapons together with makeshift small shields from nks, but the major held his own sword in his left hand, and a sailor''s cuss in his right.


    Uponnding, he delivered a vicious overhead chop to the neck of a pirate before him, the brutal strike shing through the neck at an angle, cutting halfway through it, and the curved front end of the cuss inflicting a second wound on the pullback.


    The major, not paying further attention to the poor soul whose neck had been half-severed and now sttered with his blood, ferociously continued to slice through the remaining pirates who had yet toe to their senses.


    Andre and a few warrant officers, infected by the major''s fierce momentum, also roared as they followed the major onto the deck of Good Fortune.


    Major Morris sighed helplessly and also, sword in hand, leapt from the prow castle.


    The major''s original n was to ambush and deal with the pirates boarding the ship first, then use revolving guns and muskets to weaken the pirates remaining on the enemy ship, and finally board to exterminate the remaining enemies.


    But with the top boss jumping in right away, he had no choice but to follow suit.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Line break ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Meanwhile, at the top of the stern castle, Winters and two gunnery lieutenants together exerted their strength to mount the swivel gun on the ship''s side. The three of them had been lying t on the deckboards, concealed by barrels and sacks.


    The swivel gun was so named because it was mounted on a stand, allowing it to swivel to aim at different angles.


    Under the iron frame was an iron rod, and the ship''s side had holes drilled during the construction, into which the iron rod could be inserted to mount the swivel gun on the ship''s side.


    Bandit Gull''s side was lower than that of Good Fortune, which was a disadvantage. But don''t forget, Bandit Gull still had the fighting tops.


    In naval boarding actions, whoever had the higher fighting tops had the advantage. From the very top of Bandit Gull''s stern castle, one could overlook the open deck of Good Fortune with an unobstructed view.


    As they say, "From high to low, beat the dumbass," and with Bandit Gull''s long-range firepower at a higher position, they could leisurely shoot at Good Fortune.


    With the gun in ce, one gunnery warrant officer grasped the gun''s tail to aim at the enemy, while another quickly grabbed a chamber and stuffed it into the rear cabin of the swivel gun, followed by a wooden wedge to secure the chamber into ce, then poured gunpowder into the priming hole.


    While the two warrant officers were busy, Winters was tasked with only one thing: ensuring that the slow match didn''t go out.


    Without a real salt-soaked slow match on board, they had to unravel hemp rope to use instead. The problem was that with hemp rope, if you held it upside down, it would burn quickly, but if you held it upright, it would go out by itself.


    Winters was now like Prometheus, the fire thief, both blowing on it and adjusting the angle, carefully tending to the small me in his hand.


    "Ready! Light it now!" urged the loader warrant officer.

 Chapter 38: Chapter 24 Jumping Ship_3

    Without a linstock, Winters directly used his hand to light the powder with the slow match. He didn''t know when to pull away, and as the gases propelled the shot, they also sprayed the powder from the touch-hole, adding a few more burns to his hands, but Winters clenched his teeth and made no sound.


    "Boom!" Along with the acrid smoke and a loud bang, six or seven lead balls shot out from the rotating cannon''s muzzle, hurtling towards the pirates on the Good Fortune. The battle was too chaotic to see how many pirates were hit, but certainly, some were crying out for their fathers and mothers.


    The two gunner warrant officers seemed very dissatisfied with the effects of the bombardment.


    In this era, cannons didn''t have anything like a depression angle because the shot was smaller than the bore; if the cannon was tilted down, the shot would simply roll out.


    In a hurry and without proper cannonballs, the warrant officers used musket balls as cannon shot. Wrapped in pieces of sackcloth to prevent the lead from falling directly out when the muzzle was pointed downward.


    But the problem was that the lead shot was still smaller than a cannonball and sealed poorly, allowing the gas from the burning powder to spray out through the gaps. That''s why when gunners used canister shot, they added a sabot.


    But where could they find sabots in such haste? There was no time to carve wood on the spot, so they had to go ahead with thick skin, and naturally, the power of the rotating cannon was greatly reduced,cking the expected effect of mowing down a row with a single shot.


    "Keep going! Don''t stop," the gunner warrant officer called off the ongoing damage assessment. Having something was better than nothing, even if it was just for the sound, it was a great deterrent to the enemy.


    After swabbing the bore, a new chamber was loaded and Winters lit it again. Sparks hissed into the chamber, but it only emitted smoke.


    The rotating cannon did not roar; the sound was like a damp fart.


    Misfire?


    The loader warrant officer, unfazed, immediately knocked out the wedge and loaded a new chamber.


    Upon igniting it again, there was still no reaction.


    "(Expletive)! That stingy captain must have stored the powder for too long without use, causing it to separate," the loader warrant officer sent his kindest regards to the fat captain''s entire family. But his hands did not stop; he loaded another chamber.


    Upon igniting it again, this time it sounded.


    All twelve chambers were quickly spent, with only five sessful shots; the remaining seven were duds.


    The rming rate of misfires infuriated the loader warrant officer, who cursed loudly, while the gunner warrant officer said nothing and picked up the slow match gun that was set aside, handing it to Winters and the loader warrant officer.


    From his high position, Winters had a clear view of the situation. The shouting had ceased, now only the dull sounds of des entering flesh and screams could be heard. The pirates who had leaped onto the Bandit Gull''s deck were all dealt with, and on the crowded deck, one could no longer see the pirates'' filthy hair, only the clean heads of the warrant officers.


    The Bandit Gull''sbinednd and sea forces were attacking the Good Fortune''s deck, and even three of the four passengers who had been hesitant were now wielding weapons and fighting pirates on the frontline. But with limited space, only a few in the front ranks were desperately fighting, the rest could only push from behind.


    And at the Good Fortune''s bow hatch, pirates were continuously pouring out, turning what started as an ambush into a bloody tug-of-war, each exchanging blows.


    Winters watched as Andre, along with the fiercely aggressive Major, charged into the Good Fortune''s cabin from the aft hatch.


    He felt tense; with the way things were, there surely were arge number of pirates inside the cabin, and with just Major and Andre entering, the odds were more perilous than not.


    Winters and Andre were originally only acquaintances from the same hometown, but over the past few days, with Winters injured on board, Andre had taken good care of him. Regardless of what Andre thought, at least Winters now considered this loud-voiced fellow a friend.


    Seeing Andre enter the danger, Winters could no longer stay in a safe ce to provide support with a slow match gun.


    He threw down the gun, and with a shout of "Eh? What are you doing?" from the gunner warrant officer, Winters leaped down onto the aft deck of the Good Fortune, gritted his teeth, and followed Andre''s path into the Good Fortune''s cabin.

 Chapter 39: Chapter 25: Close Quarters Combat

    Jumping from the brightly-lit open deck into the dimly-lit cabin, Winters couldn''t see anything at first. Fortunately, no one took this opportunity to ambush him.


    Only when his eyes adjusted to the darkness did he realize that the Good Fortune had apparently divided the lower deck into several areas.


    Winters was used to wielding a two-handed sword, and only being able to grip the sailor''s knife with one hand made him feel ack of security. He drew his dagger again and, imitating the admiral''s style, held des in both hands as he explored into the darkness.


    A heavy thud came from behind ¨C Winters tensed and turned, ready to swing his knife, but the person who had jumped down said, "Wait, it''s me."


    The light filtering in through the hatch was too dim to see clearly, but Winters recognized the voice all too well ¨C it was Bard.


    "Let''s go up together," Bard said, following him in a low voice.


    Winters nodded and continued to explore ahead ¨C having someone cover your back was always reassuring.


    After entering the cabin from the rear entrance, they saw severalpartments on the left and right that appeared to be used by those of higher status on the ship. A narrow path was left in the middle, only wide enough for one person to pass through.


    Winters smelled blood, and in one of thepartments, he found a corpse. Clearly, the admiral and Andre had already broken through here.


    Moving forward, he kicked open another cabin door, which led to an open area.


    No longer separated by wooden partitions, the entire cabin was onerge room with big holes in the cabin walls. The floor was filled with people dressed in rags like beggars, with the pungent stench of acid and decay hitting their nostrils.


    The admiral and Andre were in the middle of the cabin. The admiral''s movements were not shy, even somewhat simple: a parry with the left arm, a stab with the right.


    But with the admiral''s extraordinary strength, these simple moves became the most efficient means of killing. He used his left sword to deflect a scimitaring head-on, then with a stab and a twist of his right hand, a pirate was screaming as he was knocked down.


    No one aboard the ship was a match for the admiral alone. The pirates,cking spears and not skilled inbined attacks, were forced to retreat repeatedly.


    Andre, standing next to the admiral, hardly had a chance to strike; he struggled to keep pace, protecting the admiral from being attacked by multiple pirates at once.


    Still, several pirates were using the width of the ship to try to circle behind the admiral and Andre.


    Winters and Bard''s arrival was impably timed, for if they had truly been surrounded, even with their superior swordsmanship, the admiral and Andre would have been helpless. They could rush to this point because the pirates had been intimidated by the admiral''s ferocity, and both men had been driving pirates before them on the way here ¨C no need to worry about what was behind them.


    Winters let out a roar, drawing the attention of the pirates and signaling to the two ahead that reinforcements had arrived. The pirates who had been circling to get behind the admiral and Andre, hearing Winters, abandoned their targets and rushed toward him instead.


    A single-handed sword often required a small shield or a parrying dagger, but Winters''s daggercked a guard and was of no use in blocking; holding it was more a psychologicalfort than anything else.


    However, when the pirates charged at Winters wielding his scimitar and dagger, they hesitated, their hearts uneasy, but they steeled themselves and met him head-on.


    The pirates'' attack was simple ¨C a savage chop from upper left to lower right.


    As for Winters, the sailor''s knife was both his weapon and his shield. The deck was crowded with emaciated rowers, leaving no room to dodge, so Winters met the pirate''s de with his own.


    In that moment, he understood Instructor Nal''s lesson: on the battlefield, nothing was more useful than immense strength.


    As the two scimitars shed, how could the pirate, who did not eat or train as well as a well-fed, well-trained cadet,pete in strength? He was directly overpowered by Winters''s de strike.


    Winters instinctively used a longsword technique and cut into the pirate''s center line. The cabin was filled with rowers with no space for Winters to step forward, so he directed his de at the pirate''s right arm.


    The weapons aboard the Bandit Gull were poorly maintained; the sailor''s knife in Winters''s hand was not particrly sharp, but for this reason, it bit into the flesh even more deeply. When he struck the pirate, Winters resolutely dragged his de, leaving a deep gash that exposed the bone in the pirate''s arm.


    The pirate screamed in agony, dropping his knife and stumbling backward, clutching his wound. If this were a swordsmanship contest, Winters would have scored an elegant two points with that move. But this cabin was a battlefield, and crippling a pirate''s hand didn''t take his life.


    "Hold them! Have you be my crew!" a voice cried out with a thick Tanilian ent, "or I''ll kill you all!"


    Winters didn''t understand who was being addressed, then realized the pirates were coercing the rowers. He surveyed the sorry rowers ¨C some averted their gaze in fear, while others showed desperation and greed in their eyes.


    With at least thirty rowers in the cabin, if even a third were incited to action, the four officers there were in danger.


    Every rower in the cabin was now a potential enemy. Winters shouted back, "The pirates are finished! Those who are not pirates, stay seated! Move, and you will be killed without hesitation!" He and Bard stepped over the seated rowers and strode towards the admiral and Andre, trying to move away from that area.


    "Don''t just sit there, you scum! Do you want to die?" the voice with the Tanilian ent bellowed again.

 Chapter 40: Chapter 25 Short-Armed Combat_2

    As soon as the words had left his mouth, Winters felt someone grab his left leg, and Bard was tackled to the ground by three oarsmen. At that moment, another pirate charged at him from the front.


    Thest bit of pity in Winters'' heart for these oarsmen was crushed by rage. He too became ferocious, switching his dagger from his right hand to his left, and viciously stabbed it into the neck of the oarsman holding his leg.


    He reminded himself that he was on a battlefield, and this time he didn''t just stab down, he mimicked Major General Layton''s move¡ªa stab, followed by a brutal twist.


    An irreparable, destructive wound appeared on the oarsman''s neck right away, his artery and tendons directly pierced and shredded. In agony, the oarsman covered the wound and let go of Winters'' left leg.


    With his leg free, Winters sidestepped, dodging the straight thrust from the pirate. The next move waspleted instinctively by his swordsmanship training, first using the de to block and knock the opponent''s scimitar off course.


    But this time, he didn''t chop at the man''s arm; instead, he thrust into the pirate''s soft abdomen. Again, a stab and a twist. When he pulled out the scimitar, its curved de created an evenrger opening. That one strike took away the pirate''s ability to move.


    He didn''t bother with the eviscerated pirate any longer and turned to help Bard. By this time, Bard was already pinned to the ground by three oarsmen. One oarsman was desperately trying to pry Bard''s fingers open to seize his knife, but Bard was holding on tightly. Unable to pry the knife free, the oarsman moved to bite.


    Winters took two steps to Bard''s side, plunging his knife fiercely into the neck of the oarsman attempting to bite, killing him instantly.


    The other two oarsmen were struggling with Bard. Fearing that using his Longsword might hurt Bard, Winters drove his dagger into the back of an oarsman''s neck and, with a punch, drove it through, neatly dispatching the two oarsmen.


    He pulled Bard up from the ground, and the oarsmen no longer dared to meet the gaze of the officer who had just killed three men, hanging their heads in submission. Not a single oarsman was spurred to attack the two by the pirates any longer.


    Seeing reinforcements arriving, the major general no longer led Andre forward. They had numerous wounds, but sheer momentum had carried them this far. Now, with reinforcements, there was no need for a reckless attack, so the major general started a defensive retreat with Andre.


    Winters and Bard advanced, while the major general and Andre fell back; finally, the four of them regrouped, confronting the pirates.


    At this time, sounds of shing des came from behind the pirates, signaling that the pirates on deck had also been defeated. The major general and his men had fought from the stern into the cabin, while the ensigns were attacking from the entrance at the bow of the ship. Now, it was the pirates'' turn to be caught in a pincer attack.


    "Surrender! Or I''ll kill you all!" The major general, like death incarnate, devoid of any mercy orpassion, suddenly started his psychological warfare, but the dripping blood from his two des and his blood-stained uniform didn''t seem very persuasive.


    "Surrender my ass! Do you think we''ll live if we surrender?" The pirate leader who had earlier spurred on his men to fight, shouted in despair, "If we surrender, this butcher will kill us all! This butcher is an officer; capture him, use him as a hostage, then we can live!"


    By the end of his speech, the leader was crying, kicking and beating the other pirates like a shrew: "Go on! Capture him, and we can live! We can live..."


    "Trash! Truly disgusting!" The major general looked contemptuously at the blustering pirate leader, pointing his sword at the man: "Even if you surrender, I would still kill you! Listen up, everyone, I''ll only kill this one. If you don''t want to die, throw down your weapons and surrender!"


    On this side, Winters, Bard, and Andre silently faced off against the pirates. Meanwhile, more and more army ensigns leaped down from the entrance to the cabin. The pirates, trapped in the cabin, had nowhere to run and were at a dead end.


    Winters watched as the pirates, uncertain and looking at each other helplessly, seemed to want to surrender, but no one dared to be the first to drop their weapon.


    "Drop your weapons!" The major generalmanded with another loud shout.


    One by one, two by two, the pirates began dropping their weapons one after another, dering the end of the brief but bloody melee.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªDividing Line¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    On the deck of the Good Luck, pirates who had surrendered were tightly tied up, kneeling in an orderly row.


    Surrounding them were a flock of fledgling ensigns who had just tasted blood for the first time, holding their knives and watching fiercely.


    One by one, pirate corpses and those on the brink of death were dragged out from the deck and cabin and neatly ced in front of the surrendered pirates.


    Major General Layton sat heroically on a wooden barrel that had been dragged over, while Major Moritz, bolstered by alcohol, was stitching up his wounds.


    There was no one on the ship thick-skinned enough to dare use a fishhook for suturing, so it fell to this man, who became indiscriminate once drunk.


    Even though the instructor had said swordsmanship was a sport, it turned out to be somewhat useful, as at least the ensigns knew how to avoid being stabbed in the vital chest and abdominal area.


    The injured ensigns mostly suffered wounds on their limbs, and if they didn''t develop severe inmmation or fever in the following days, they would survive. Otherwise, they would die.


    In an age without antibiotics and tetanus vines, survival from an injury entirely depended on the severity, physical condition, and luck.


    Impatient from waiting, Major General Layton stood up with his sabre as soon as all the dead and dying pirates had been dragged out and approached the captured pirates.

 Chapter 41: Chapter 25 Short Arms Conflict_3

    "I won''t waste words with you. You,e here first." The Rear Admiral stopped in front of the pirate captain he had said he would kill no matter what, back in the cabin standoff.


    The pirate, who seemed to be the captain, hung his head and dared not meet the Rear Admiral''s gaze. The Rear Admiral ced his sword against his neck, "Speak, which one is the captain?"


    Upon hearing the Rear Admiral''s question, the pirate felt a glimmer of hope and mustered his courage to ask in return, "If I tell, if I give up the captain, will the General spare my life?"


    Before he finished speaking, the Rear Admiral''s sword had pierced through his left ribcage. Shocked, he looked at the Rear Admiral and then at his own chest where the sword had sliced through his heart.


    As the sword was withdrawn, the pirate fell forwards as if his soul had been drained from him, blood pouring out beneath him.


    Even though Winters had seen bloodshed that day, his heart softened a bit at the sight of the pirate''s death, and the Rear Admiral''s ruthless cruelty shocked him. There''s a difference between killing on the battlefield and executing a bound prisoner.


    But he said nothing, nor did his ssmates. The only sound on the deck was the sea, as the young ensigns silently watched and learned from the senior officer''s methods.


    "Such a waste of words." The Rear Admiral shook the fresh blood off his sword with disgust, and turned to question another pirate next to the one just dead, "Speak, which one is the captain?"


    With a body still bleeding next to him, the second pirate called upon felt a coldness in his groin and had already wet himself. He agreed hastily to help identify and pleaded for mercy.


    Rear Admiral Layton did not rush to have this pirate identify anyone but simply lifted him by his shirt cor with one hand as if picking up a chicken.


    Rear Admiral Layton had the pirate look carefully at the faces of his still-livingrades before smiling at all the pirates, "I will have you turn around, and let this piece of trash in my hand point someone out among you and these bodies first. Then I will bring another person forward, and if you don''t point out the same one, you''ll both die."


    Winters quickly understood why the Rear Admiral was using this peculiar method; it was still about making the pirates betray one another, avoiding casually pointing out a corpse as the captain.


    "If you''re going to kill, just kill. Why y with us? These men of mine aren''t so loyal that you would need to employ such tactics," an indignant voice came and Gold could no longer refrain from standing out, "But you promised us, surrender and you spare our lives!"


    "Hahaha," the Rear Admiralughed even more joyfully, hisughter extremely discordant amidst the bloody scene, "When did I ever promise you surrender would spare you from death? I only promised I wouldn''t kill you, but if my officers act, that has nothing to do with me."


    The pirates grew restless, Gold stood up even more angrily, spewing a string of sailor''s profanity that Winters couldn''t understand.


    The Rear Admiral tossed the pirate he was holding to the ground and strode over, one hand grabbing Gold''s hair, and the other mming the sword''s pommel into Gold''s mouth with force.


    Once, twice, three times.


    Everyone on the deck could hear the clear sound of metal crushing flesh and teeth breaking, even Winters felt a bit frightened upon hearing it.


    Winters caught Bard''s eye, feeling his stomach churn, and he saw a flicker of fear in Bard''s eyes as well. No one wasn''t afraid of such a brutal person, even if he was one of their own.


    The crew of the Bandit Gull had long since sought quiet corners to hide, avoiding the bloody scene.


    The Rear Admiral said through clenched teeth, "What do you think you are? To negotiate terms with me?"


    Three blows were far from enough to satisfy the Rear Admiral''s anger, and he hammered down a fourth time, "When I ask something, you answer!"


    Gold, now unable to speak clearly, could only nod desperately.


    "Why didn''t you retreat upon seeing the naval g?"


    When Gold opened his mouth, blood mixed with saliva streamed out non-stop. Having been hit by Layton''s four vicious blows, his teeth and tongue were severely damaged, and it was impossible to understand what he was saying.


    Major Moritz couldn''t stand to watch and sighed, offering a solution, "General asks, you nod or shake your head, understood?"


    Gold nodded desperately again.


    "Listen carefully," Rear Admiral Layton paused, then asked the question lingering in everyone''s mind on the Bandit Gull, "Did you intentionallye after us?"


    Upon hearing the question, Gold nodded heavily.

 Chapter 42: Chapter 26 The Boat Song

    The sun was setting, and the Bandit Gull had unfurled its sails and resumed its journey.


    The sailors who had escaped death were happily singing songs, wiping the decks, and tending to the ropes, as if the bloody boarding battle just hours earlier had been an illusion.


    But the newly installed swivel gun at the stern castle''s top deck had not been removed.


    By the side of the swivel gun, Winters, Bard, and Andre sat on the deck, leaning against the railing, lost in thought.


    The excitement from their first battle had passed, and the rationale that had been clouded by bloodlust restored.


    Recalling the battle, other than a sense of pride, the three ensigns felt nothing but relief and confusion, as well as nausea induced by the gruesome memories of closebat where flesh was torn and viscera spilled.


    "Eh, I always feel like what we did wasn''t right," Bard sighed deeply. He did not specify what it was, but there was no misunderstanding between Winters and Andre.


    Thest of the pirates who surrendered were unable to save their lives, as Major General Layton kept his promise, choosing not to kill anyone himself.


    Instead, he arranged for the ensign cadets, particrly those whose des were not bloodied¡ªmeaning those who did not actually partake in the melee battle¡ªto do the deed.


    On a ship where space is limited andbat had not turned into a free-for-all, it was only the ensigns at the very front who had truly fought with the pirates; the majority of the rest could only cheer from behind.


    "If pirates survive to reach shore, they will be hanged anyway, so there isn''t much difference in the end," Winters felt wrong about killing prisoners too, but couldn''t deny that it was indeed a simple and effective solution: "I think on one hand, the major general really has a bit of a bloodthirsty streak, and on the other hand, this batch of pirates really was troublesome to deal with. The small ship Bandit Gull couldn''t contain so many people. What if they seized an opportunity to take over the Good Fortune? How would we handle that?


    "If they''re killed, they''re killed; what else can we do?" Andre yawned and stretched his arms, appearing very tired now.


    More time was spent discussing how to handle the prisoners and wrapping things up after the battle,pared to the enthusiasm the major general showed when he directly decided to engage in battle with the pirates.


    Interrogations of the pirates after the battle unearthed surprising intelligence: The Good Fortune hadn''t captured the Bandit Gull by mere chance; in fact, all the pirates in the ind sea were searching for a three-masted Va light warship


    that was rumored to beden with gold and silver from the "Tanilia Archipgo Captains and nters Union" intended as a bribe for the Sea Blue Republic''s governingmittee.


    The Captains and nters Union of the Tanilia Archipgo operated a noisy, guild-style democracy with a loose structure and weak authority. Nheless, it was undeniable that the captains and nters were the true owners of the Tanilia Inds.


    Piracy was rampant above the ind sea, and as Tanilia served as aundering and supply point for pirates year-round, the rtionship with the Sea Blue Republic was always extremely tense.


    The pirates didn''t know why the union wanted to bribe the Sea Blue governingmittee, but they were convinced that at that very moment, a three-masted fast ship filled with Gold Coins and silver coins was sailing towards Sea Blue City.


    As for why the union would bribe the Sea Blue governingmittee, the pirates had various contradictory theories; there was no urate story. However, they were certain that such a treasure ship existed.


    Because it''s difficult to deduce the result from the reason, but to infer the reason from the result... isn''t it easy to find a convincing reason for yourself?


    Even up to their execution, the pirates on the Good Fortune were still convinced that the Bandit Gull was the treasure ship, and the ensigns were the soldiers guarding the transport.


    Guarding troops? Or guarding bribes? Winters, Bard, and Andre had never heard of any side task to transport gold and silver on their way home.


    Could it be a secret mission? Only Major General Layton and Colonel Moritz knew what was going on?


    At first, Winters believed this. But when he saw the expressions of the major general and colonel, Winters knew they were just as bewildered.


    But since the pirates spoke with such conviction, it seemed improbable that they were lying, which made the major general, colonel, and ensigns skeptical.


    So, the pressure came down on the portly captain. The portly captain was sweating profusely, swearing heaven and earth that he knew nothing of any treasure ship and there was no union bribery money aboard the Bandit Gull.


    Words were bondless, and oaths did nothing to dispel the suspicions. After all, there was only so much space aboard the Bandit Gull, and whether the pirates'' ims were true or false, a search would make everything clear.


    Therefore, the major general immediately ordered a search of the cargo, and the ensigns meticulously scoured the Bandit Gull, opening every box and bag in the cargo hold and knocking on each nk to ensure there were no hiddenpartments.


    In the end, it was proven that the portly captain had told the truth; the ship''s cargo was nothing but sugar and tobo.


    With this, the situation facing the Bandit Gull became clear: The pirates were convinced that a treasure ship was sailing from Taniria to Sea Blue City, and all the pirates across the ind sea were red-eyed trying to intercept it;


    There might well be such a ship, but it was definitely not the Bandit Gull¡ªthe Bandit Gull held not a single unimed Gold Coin; its cargo consisted only of ordinary sugar and tobo;


    Unfortunately, the silhouette of the Bandit Gull resembled what the pirates thought the treasure ship looked like, or to be precise, the pirates believed the treasure ship to be a fast three-masted light ship of the same type as the Bandit Gull;

 Chapter 43: Chapter 26 Boat Song_2

    Bandit Gull couldn''t prove to the pirates that it wasn''t a treasure ship; surely they couldn''t just stop and let the pirates inspect, could they?


    That was the situation. Currently, Bandit Gull was a high-risk vessel on the ind sea. Usually, maybe a naval g would be enough to guarantee safety, but now such a g would definitely not scare the pirates away.


    It seemed the two army officials hadn''t even thought of immediately going ashore to let the officers disembark. And the corpulent captain also hoped the army officers would stay on board to protect Bandit Gull, so he deliberately didn''t suggest this n.


    Therefore, Major General Layton, Major Moritz, and the corpulent captain unanimously agreed that Bandit Gull must not head directly for Sea Blue City now, and needed to quickly leave the main route, taking rarely traversed waters as a detour back to Sea Blue City.


    Besides that, they could only pray urgently for a strong wind at sea.


    Perhaps the devout prayers of the sailors took effect; by dusk, the previously frail sea breeze began to gradually strengthen.


    Bandit Gull, filled with wind power, resumed its course through the waves at a speed of eight knots.


    "I think the Major General''s idea is correct. In the current situation, the pirates are like dogs that have caught a scent. Even if we were made of iron, we couldn''t withstand another two close-quarters battles. Speeding back to Sea Blue City is the top priority," Andre said nonchntly. He was now simply lying on the deck, seemingly intending to take a nap.


    "The oarsmen are innocents, we can''t just ughter them indiscriminately, can we?" Bard clearly disagreed with Major General Layton''s solution.


    There was no disagreement over the order to change course; what really sparked debate was the method of dealing with the Good Fortune.


    Major General Layton''s solution was to kill all the surviving pirates, throw their bodies into the sea, scuttle the pirate ship directly, and have Bandit Gull return to Sea Blue City at full speed.


    The problem was that Major General Layton didn''t distinguish between coerced oarsmen and pirates; he deemed every living person on the pirate ship as a pirate, all deserving death.


    But Major Moritz, for the first time, raised an objection to the highmand. In his view, the oarsmen were in a coerced position, essentially innocent sailors who had been captured and enved by the pirates. Killing these non-pirate sailors would be a too shocking act and would damage the army''s reputation.


    "Hmph," Andre sneered, clearly unimpressed by the notion of innocents, "Who''s innocent? Wasn''t it their rowing that allowed Bandit Gull to be caught up to? And didn''t you suffer at the hands of those oarsmen?"


    Bard was momentarily at a loss for words, unaware of what "Stockholm Syndrome" was. Indeed, three oarsmen had attacked him, and he couldn''t think of a reasonable defense for those oarsmen who had been incited by the pirates to attack him.


    Winters, listening to the exchange, thought again of the rotten smell in the cabin, the emaciated bodies of the oarsmen, and their desperate eyes, and couldn''t help but sigh, "I think that the oarsmen didn''t really want to help the pirates."


    "Then what did they want?" Andre had little patience for this kind of pity for the enemy.


    "They just wanted to die outright."


    This response left Andre momentarily speechless. He scratched his head, his lips parted several times without making a sound, before he returned to his indifferent demeanor, "Don''t think too much about it. If they dare to fight against us, they deserve to die if they''re killed. We''re just a few low-level military officers¡ªnot even officers, just officer cadets. We have no power, and haha, no responsibility either. We just do whatever the top brass tells us to do. They''ll shoulder the sky if it falls."


    Winters thought perhaps it was this kind of mentality that allowed one to sleep well every night, he replied with a bitter smile, "That''s right, just consider yourself a tool."


    Major General Layton''s solution was only half implemented. The surrendering pirates were all ughtered, the non-surrenderers were finished with a knife, and their bodies were all tossed into the sea as food for the fish. They spared the pirate captain half his life because the Major General wanted to bring him back to Sea Blue for further interrogation.


    The oarsmen were not treated as pirates and executed, which was the result of Major Moritz''s ardent negotiations.


    The Good Fortune was not scuttled, which was the result of the corpulent captain''s insistent efforts.


    We still do not know the name of Bandit Gull''s corpulent captain, but he was no longer aboard Bandit Gull. Now, Bandit Gull''s acting captain was its former first mate, and the corpulent captain had taken over the role of Captain on the Good Fortune Gold, leading a few sailors aboard as its new captain.


    As the corpulent captain had said, at sea¡ªat least on the ind sea¡ªthe most valuable thing wasn''t cargo, but the ship itself.


    Major General Layton wanted to scuttle Good Fortune, and Major Moritz actually didn''t have strong feelings about it. They were both army officers, not familiar with the value or caring for such a decrepit ship.


    But upon hearing Major General Layton''s intent to scuttle Good Fortune, the corpulent captain firmly disagreed and, for the first time, disyed remarkable assertiveness in front of the Major General by mming the table and ring.


    The corpulent captain then exined the situation to the twondlubber army officers, counting on his fingers:


    First, although Good Fortune was somewhat old, it was a solid, functional, and sturdy vessel.


    Second, even though Good Fortune was an old-style galley, most ships on the ind sea were of this type; despite having fallen into the hands of pirates, it would be a good merchant vessel again with some repairs after returning to port.


    In short, Good Fortune could fetch a good sum of money! Scuttling it would be a sheer waste. This ship was now legitimate war booty, with ownership belonging to the army officers. Wouldn''t it be nice to sell it and share the proceeds?

 Chapter 44: Chapter 26 Boat Song_3

    Here, the portly captain cunningly omitted any specific price he could sell for, only using vague quantifiers like "a lot" to describe it.


    The portly captain also persuaded Major General Layton and Major Moritz from another angle:


    On the Misfortune, there are more than thirty rowers. If we scuttle the Misfortune, what happens to these rowers? Where do we put them?


    The Bandit Gull currently has about fifty people on board and is already overburdened. There really isn''t any more room to amodate over thirty rowers.


    "To scuttle the Misfortune, it would be tantamount to killing this group of rowers; if we don''t kill this group of rowers, then we can''t scuttle the Bandit Gull." Through this chain of logic, the portly captain sessfully tethered Major Moritz onto his chariot.


    The ship couldn''t be scuttled; to scuttle it, they would have to kill the portly captain first.


    But, how to bring the Misfortune back to port became a new problem.


    All the pirates are dead, so there is nobody left on the Misfortune to handle the sails and helm.


    Leave a few pirates as crew members? Major General Layton won''t agree, and neither does the portly captain dare to.


    Release the rowers to serve as crew? The portly captain firmly disagrees too, arguing: How can one know these rowers won''t harbor ill will? These rowers, influenced by pirates aboard the pirate ships, may well harbor bad intentions, seize the ship, and sell it themselves. Wouldn''t everyone on the Bandit Gull have worked for nothing?


    This is a trust crisis created by the unique survival environment at sea. On the open ocean, there are nomunications, nows, no supervision. Only this ship exists between heaven and earth, and what happens aboard is unknown to outsiders, unreachable by their whips.


    The portly captain didn''t even dare to let his first mate take a few sailors over to the Misfortune to bring the ship back to port. Because one can''t see into another''s heart, who knows if this seemingly honest first mate might harbor some evil intention? If this first mate developed wicked thoughts, tomorrow the ind sea might be home to a new pirate ship named "Misfortune."


    Eventually, the portly captain had a stroke of genius, proposing a brilliant solution:


    He, along with half the sailors from the Bandit Gull, would go aboard the Misfortune. This way, they could just about manage to operate the ship;


    The rowers on the Misfortune wouldn''t be set free right away, but tied down in the cabin as before to prevent them from getting any ideas about seizing the ship and also because their services as rowers were still needed. Once in port, they would fetch a magistrate to release the rowers and let them disembark;


    The first mate of the Bandit Gull, now acting as captain, would choose a few healthy-looking sailors from the Misfortune''s rowers to fill the crew shortfall on the Bandit Gull, so that it too could function normally. With over thirty naval officers on board the Bandit Gull, any trouble could be easily suppressed.


    In the eyes of Major General Layton and Major Moritz, this was a pretty good solution. The only drawback was that the crew on the Misfortune was too few; if the portly captain encountered pirates on the way back to port, they could end up... handing it over for nothing.


    However, the money-hungry portly captain had already decided to take that risk, and considering the attraction of the Bandit Gull to the ind sea pirates, it''s hard to say which ship was actually more dangerous at this point.


    Taking half of the Bandit Gull''s sailors and a letter detailing the Misfortune''s full story, signed and sealed by Major General Layton and Major Moritz, the portly captain excitedly boarded the Misfortune, and the two ships went their separate ways.


    Now, what Winters, Bard, and Andre heard was a chorus between the new and old sailors.


    Andre had been quiet for a while, obviously having fallen asleep.


    Bard''s mind seemed to be preupied with many thoughts. He furrowed his brow and said to Winters, "I always feel like something is... odd, every event is baffling. Guidao City sees a few fires every year, yet this time specifically the armory caught fire and it was massive; every year people head overseas, yet this year not a single overseas assignment; and this so-called treasure transport ship¡ªtreasure transport? Do you believe that? Something we don''t know about is definitely happening in the world."


    "Hey, why overthink it? I''m the one who ended up unable to use magic," said Winters. He understood Bard''s anxiety, but believed they should take things as theye: "Even if some earth-shattering change is happening, we can only be swept along by the current. Andre is right, we''re just three junior officers; let''s just focus on being tools, and let those with higher ranks brace for the sky''s fall."


    The first mate of the Bandit Gull¡ªoh, no, now the captain¡ªclimbed up to the poop deck. He was there to deliver some liquor to the three junior naval officers, clearly thrilled even by the temporary assumption of the captain''s duties.


    "Drink up, esteemed officers, drink up. I saw you jump to help today; you''re all exceptionally brave warriors. Even among seafarers who make their living on the ocean, it''s hard to find a few as gant as you. This round is on me," he said.


    Winters epted the bottle with a smile and casually asked, "What song are the sailors singing? It''s pleasant to the ear, but I can''t understand with their thick ents."


    The acting captainughed sheepishly: "Some call these ship songs, but they''re really just vulgar sailor tunes, mostly about women and drink."


    "I think these songs are naturally in and simple. What''s wrong with talking about women and drink? Aren''t songs supposed to express emotions? It''s a pity I can''t understand what they''re singing about..."


    "Would you like me to sing it for you in the Va ent?"


    "That would be wonderful!"


    The first mate cleared his throat and joined the sailors in their song. His voice was rough and unrestrained, but the lyrics he belted out wereced with an unspoken sadness:


    "Farewell forever, maidens of the isles.


    Farewell forever, beauties of the isles.


    For we are bound for old Va.


    Never again will we see ones as fair as you.


    We roar andugh wildly, true sailors of Va.


    We roar andugh, amid the briny waves.


    Until we''ve sailed the length of Senas Bay,


    From the isles to Sea Blue, a full two hundred leagues.


    ...


    Fill up the ss, drink it all down.


    Fill up the ss, drain it to the dregs.


    We drown our mncholy in alcohol.


    Here''s to the health of every lovesick soul, let''s drink it to thest.


    ..."


    Amidst the sailors'' singing, Winters grew closer to Sea Blue, where he would obtain his military rank and officially be a probationary officer.


    He wasn''t entirely a novice, but that was just the most basic education. Much, much more remained for him to learn through practical experience.

 Chapter 45: Chapter 27 Close at Hand

    Luck is rtive. The luck of other pirates on the Inner Sea seemed not so good after all, not every pirate had Gold''s good fortune, or it could be said the Goddess of Luck once again sided with the Bandit Gull.


    In the following voyage, the Bandit Gull, having avoided the main shipping routes, only encountered a few sporadic unfamiliar vessels.


    But with strong winds at sea and sails fully spread, the Bandit Gull swiftly sped along, leaving those unfamiliar ships with only a glimpse of her masts before falling far behind.


    Just like the boastful fat captain proudly imed, "This is the best clipper on the Inner Sea."


    However, the Bandit Gull''s detour added three days to its journey, leaving the unprepared Major Moritz, whocked flexibility in his provisions, to run out of his stock of alcohol.


    The warrant officers watched as the once gentlemanly major''s lips grew increasingly chapped and cracked, and his temper became more and more irritable, even his mental state began to be abnormal.


    The major was either stumbling and banging about on the ship every day, or pacing back and forth on the deck in the middle of the night with a "thump thump thump," causing all the warrant officers to suffer insomnia with him.


    Who isn''t afraid of mental illness? Even Major General Layton began to intentionally avoid Major Moritz, leaving the warrant officers under even greater pressure.


    But fortunately, they finally arrived safely at Sea Blue City, and upon seeing thendmark lighthouse of Sea Blue Port, the warrant officers couldn''t help but shed tears of relief.


    Their reasons were not just the excitement of returning home, but more so the "small fortune" of finally being able to get away from the severe alcoholic, Major Moritz.


    The closer they got to Sea Blue Port, the more Winters could feel the prosperity of this, thergest port of the Alliance.


    In thest stretch of the shipping route, the Bandit Gull could no longer intentionally avoid other vessels even if it wanted to. With Sea Blue Port as the center, the routes of hundreds of ships formed a fan shape, all heading to or just leaving the harbor.


    Winters even saw a true warship patrolling the nearby seas, a substantial behemoth. Compared to the towering superstructure and enormous hull of the other vessel, the Bandit Gull was simply a child.


    However, to the surprise of the warrant officers, the Bandit Gull did not proceed directly into the harbor but instead anchored on the open sea outside the port.


    The acting captain was immediately surrounded by warrant officers eager to get home.


    "The gentlemen officers must understand that a major port like Sea Blue Port does not allow small merchant ships like ours to dock at will," the acting captain said with a wry smile, exining the maritime rules to thend army as he wiped the spray from his face. "Sea Blue Port hasn''t been expanded for over a decade, there is a shortage of berths, and merchant ships must wait at the outer anchorage and queue to enter the port. We''ll anchor here, and soon a customs official wille by boat to inspect the cargo. If the gentlemen officers are in a hurry to go home, you can ask the customs tax collector if they can make arrangements for you to take their boat ashore."


    But the warrant officers soon fell back into disappointment when they realized the "customs boat" the acting captain mentioned was really a "small boat."


    This small boat was hardly bigger than a canoe, about the width of two people and less than three meters long. The boat was packed full with two tax collectors and two rowers, and at most, one more person could squeeze in.


    Watching the small boat bob up and down with the waves, Winters truly worried that the next second, the customs officials'' boat would flip over.


    "Is the first mate ying with us?" Andre was almost driven mad with anger: "They expect us to take this tiny boat home? I''d rather swim back!"


    "Can you swim?" Bard asked nonchntly.


    Andre instantly fell silent and after a long pause, he replied awkwardly, "No."


    But not one to concede, he shot back at Bard, "Can you swim then?"


    "I can," Bard replied calmly.


    "What are you bragging about?" Andre burst out angrily: "When did the military academy teach swimming? Thergest pool there is the practice room''s bathtub. Don''t tell me you learned it at the Monastery?"


    "Monks do not teach swimming, nor do they swim," Bard said with a smile: "But monks like to eat fish, and the Monastery has its own fish pond."


    Whether in the Orthodox or Catholic traditions, fish hold a special religious status. During the Ancient Empire era, when the Western Church was still an underground organization intermittently subjected to persecution, it used the symbol of fish and wine cup as a secret sign. So Bard wasn''t just bluffing Andre offhandedly.


    "Even if you can swim, it''s not possible to swim back, the distance to the shore is not short," Winters quickly interjected to end the debate on swimming skills: "Actually, doesn''t the Bandit Gull have a small boat?"


    "Where?" Andre instantly perked up.


    "Hanging right behind the sterncastle."


    At the news, Andre ran towards the sterncastle with a surge of excitement, and Winters and Bard reluctantly followed.


    But upon seeing the boat, Andre couldn''t help but be greatly disappointed again, for the Bandit Gull''s small boat was even smaller than the customs'' boat.


    The customs boat could maybe fit five people with some effort, but the Bandit Gull''s was like an oversized bathtub; it looked like if three people got on, there wouldn''t be any room left to stand.


    "This boat is even worse than the customs one," Bard said with a rueful smile.


    Yet Andre began muttering calctions: "It can fit three people at once, including the two officers we have thirty-six, thirty-six divided by three is twelve."


    He pped his thigh excitedly: "Twelve trips back and forth would get all of us ashore, actually not that troublesome. It won''t take much time!"

 Chapter 46: Chapter 27 Nearly Within Reach_2

    Winters was about to be driven to tears by the foolishness of his dear ssmate Andrea Cherini. He finally understood how Major Moritz felt a few days ago during the boardingbat, when he saw him and a few gunnery sergeants huffing and puffing as they moved the cannons.


    He and Bard exchanged a grave look, confirming that they both realized Andre''s intelligence was beyond saving. "Think about it. Three people need to get ashore, and one has to row the boat back. That''s just two people ferried ashore per trip. Consider the longer return trip with only one person rowing, and it''s likely we won''t all be ashore by tomorrow."


    "Yeah, we might as well wait to enter the port. We''ve got luggage too, and if we load that, this little boat can only carry two people." Bard was always thorough in his considerations, adding the luggage Winters had overlooked. "Didn''t the new captain say so? The wait won''t be long, we should be docking by tomorrow at thetest."


    But Andre clearly wasn''t listening to thetter part. He was incorporating the elements of "luggage weight" and "rowing back alone" into his primitive mathematical model and was lost in thought over a new n.


    By now, two customs taxation officers had boarded the ship. They wore wide-brimmed hard hats and were draped in ck leather armor, its vulnerable parts reinforced with thin iron tes, and chainmail protecting the joints.


    The two tax officers were tall and rugged, with swords hanging from their belts. From their appearance, they seemed less like customs officials from Va and more like a band of thieves or mercenaries.


    Had it not been for one of them holding a ledger, Winters might have mistaken them for mere bodyguards of the tax officers.


    "Is this what customs tax officers look like? Why do they seem tougher than pirates?" Winters said to Bard in surprise. He sized up the two tax officers and felt that even in one-on-onebat, he couldn''t guarantee victory.


    Bardughed softly, leaning rxed against the ship''s rail, and replied, "Since ancient times, tax collectors have had a more dangerous job than being a soldier. The emperor was gone by the time I was born, but I''ve always heard rumors of United Provincials tax officials found dead in the wilderness."


    "Is your hometown that wild?" Wintersughed heartily. As someone raised in the city, he had never heard of merchants or craftsmen rebelling over taxes to the point of death¡ªexcluding sovereign wars, since sheriffs and city guards could handle any citizens who didn''t want to pay taxes.


    "The Federated Provinces Republic was founded by city militias, so the government''s control over rural areas isn''t strong, and theyck interest in the countryside," Bard said, still with a slight smile on his face.


    As someone who grew up in the countryside, attended a military academy in the city, and was well-educated, Bard''s understanding of the political system of the United Provincials was far deeper than Winters''. "For citizens, the Alliance forces broke the emperor''s shackles, allowing cities to develop freely. But in rural areas, the Federated Provinces Republic inherited all the rights of the old nobility¡ªwhat was there before, remains. So for ordinary farmers like my parents, it''s just a change of emperor."


    "It''s still different," Winters instinctively wanted to argue upon hearing his friend seemingly criticize the Alliance Country. To him, the Alliance, the militia alliance army, stood for Marshal Ned, General Antoine Laurent, and was not to be tarnished. But he didn''t understand politics and couldn''t immediately think of any counterargument.


    "Hahaha, indeed, it''s somewhat different," Bard said, seeing that Winters was struggling to find a difference. He began to counter his own point, "After all, the Republic did abolish demeaning noble privileges like the marriage tax, so it''s not without progress. But when ites to economic rights, the government is upromising."


    "Right, there are changes," Winters said, his typically optimistic nature shining through. Being naively unaware of what a "marriage tax" was, he added, "Any progress is a good thing, right? What ever happens overnight?"


    Hearing the tax officers had boarded, the acting captain of the Bandit Gull hurried out of the cabin, trying his best to imitate his old leader, scurrying forward with a bowed back and shuffling steps to greet the two customs officers.


    "What''s being carried on this ship?" one of the tax officers asked curtly, holding the ledger. He had seen too many such sycophantic performances to be affected by them anymore.


    "Tobo, and sugar," the acting captain answered, while stuffing packets and parcels into the tax officer''s arms. "Try our fine tobo, and the sugar, white like clouds. Have a taste."


    "What are you doing? Trying to bribe me?" the tax officer snapped, not epting the items offered. He thought to himself how clueless this man was, offering a bribe in full public view.


    His demeanor grew even worse, "You dare try to bribe a tax officer, want to lose your hand? Don''t pull this useless stunt! Take me to review the cargo. You do know the tax rates, right?"


    Scared sweat poured from the acting captain at the tax officer''s words. Bribery of an officer was legally punishable by amputation of the right hand, but the portly captain had done this every time, and his chubby hand still intact, had something gone wrong on his end? Hearing the tax officer inquire about the rates, he answered hurriedly, "Yes, yes, I know."


    "Sea Blue Port doesn''t take goods in kind, you understand?"


    "Yes, yes."


    "Take me to check the cargo."

 Chapter 47: Chapter 27: Within Reach_3

    "Alright, alright."


    "Why are there so many people on the ship?"


    "They are His Excellency''s army officers, riding our ship back from Gui Tu City." The acting captain added, "They''re from our Sea Blue Army."


    "Oh?" The tax collector raised an eyebrow, scrutinzing the deck where groups of warrant officers were scattered about. The warrant officers were all dressed in military academy uniforms, looking vigorous and spirited, and didn''t look like ves no matter how one looked at them.


    The tax collector came to a conclusion in his heart, knowing these people were not ves, but still sneered at the acting captain, "If you dare to traffic humans, you''re as good as dead, do you understand?"


    "Understand, understand," the acting captain hurriedly nodded. Thews of the member states of the Alliance varied, and attitudes towards very were different as well. But in the Sea Blue Republic, bribing a public officer only cost you a hand, while human trafficking cost you your head.


    "Take me to check the cargo."


    "Alright, alright."


    The acting captain of the Bandit Gull led the two tax collectors down into the ship''s hold. This original first mate, an old sailor of more than a dozen years at sea, was still going to suffer a social beating due to hisck of social experience.


    What awaited the Bandit Gull was to be a strict and thorough inspection. I wonder if the portly captain still adrift at sea would suddenly feel a pang in his chest?


    "Hey! I''ve got it!" Andre suddenly shouted excitedly, dancing around and exining histest mathematical theory to Winters and Bard, "I''ve figured out how to get us all ashore the fastest using this small boat. First, send three people ashore, then have ite back and only carry a cargo each time, cycling back and forth.


    Use only one person to row each time, and make sure each person rows only once, so that everyone has enough energy.


    "With only twenty-seven trips, we could get all of us and our luggage ashore..."


    So, this gentleman had been silent all this time just to ponder over his own mathematical theory.


    Winters and Bard exchanged another pained look, and Winters suddenly felt a phantom limb pain re up, causing him to sigh deeply as he supported his forehead.


    Bard, with deep seriousness, said to Andre, "I never would have thought you such a mathematical genius. There''s a problem I''ve never been able to figure out, and I must ask for your instruction. An old man had to cross a river with a wolf, a sheep, and a basket of turnips. The boat was too small, so he could only carry one thing at a time. The wolf wanted to eat the sheep, the sheep the turnips; how could the old man get all three across the river unharmed?"


    A painful sigh escaped from the deepest part of Winters'' chest, feeling his phantom limb pain intensify.


    Later on, the tax collector counted the goods, collected the money, left a receipt, and then went to inspect other ships in a small boat.


    The Bandit Gull anchored overnight outside Sea Blue Port, waiting to enter the port the next day.


    Major Moritz, a severe alcoholic, continued his sighing and circling on the open deck.


    Wintersy on the deck, unable to sleep as he tossed and turned. Just a few kilometers awayy his homnd, which he had longed for day and night.


    Not far from Winters, Bard seemed to be sleeping sweetly.


    Winters suddenly realized that he was finally returning home, but Bard was leaving his homnd; he must be feeling uneasy as well.


    The night passed without a word.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the dividing line between leaving home and returning to it¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    If there are any rmendation votes, could you please cast them for me? Thank you.


    Assuming the luggage of two people equals the weight of one person, and the boat''s maximum load is three people, and there are thirty-six people in all. Can it be guaranteed that each time only one person rows and each person only rows one one-way trip, that twenty-seven round trips can get everyone ashore?


    Actually, it can''t.

 Chapter 48: Chapter 28 The Dock

    Winters wasn''t sure if it was because they had offended the tax collector, but the Bandit Gull had to wait at the anchorage for one evening and the following morning; it wasn''t until the sun was well into the west the next day that they were finally allowed to enter the harbor.


    When the pier was within sight, Winters began to reorganize his gear. Only then did he understand why Instructor Narl had said that people no longer used the Longsword, opting instead for more portable weapons.


    That was becausepared to the sabers worn by Major Layton and Major Moritz, the Longsword used at the military academy was just too "long."


    Winters tried to figure it out a few times. Attached to his belt? The bare scabbard didn''t look very appealing.


    nted on his belt? The scabbard easily scraped the ground, and it was ufortable to have a 1.3-meter iron bar strung around the waist.


    On his back? He wasn''t the silver-haired, scar-faced witch hunter of legend, and it felt strange; he had never seen anyone carry a sword that way.


    In his hand? It probably looked a lot like he was a thug about to get into a brawl with someone.


    After much consideration, hanging it from a horse might be more convenient.


    The sabers of the major and colonel were one-handed swords, about the size of an arming sword, and could be easily hung from the belt.


    Compared to Winters''s Longsword, their sabers were shorter, lighter, and more ornate. He wasn''t sure about their effectiveness in actualbat, but in terms of portability and aesthetic value, they made Winters''s Longsword look absolutely outdated.


    Winters nced at Bard and Andre, and suddenly smiled. Heughed at himself for being fearful as he neared home, too nervous from the thought of returning that he became clumsy.


    Having realized this, he stopped fussing over how to wear the Longsword in the most dashing way and instead tied it together with his luggage, carrying it by hand as he stepped onto the deck.


    The Bandit Gull was very close to an avable mooring spot. Sea Blue Port was filled with ships, and one careless move could lead to a collision.


    Consequently, the sails of the Bandit Gull had been retracted, and the sailors were using long poles to cautiously prevent hitting other vessels. Discover more stories at §Þ??


    When they felt they were close enough, the acting captain picked up the task of the first mate again, grabbed the rope and threw it with all his might toward the wharf''s mooring spot. The dockworkers who had been waiting there deftly caught the hawser and tied it to the pilings.


    The sailors on the ship then shouted in unison and pushed with force, while a few others with long poles helped to steadily dock the ship at its berth.


    The sailors began to ce nks between the dock and the ship''s side. Just as Winters was about to disembark, he was called out by the major by name.


    Winters keenly noticed the major''s unconscious habit of ying with coins was gone, and even his hands were trembling slightly. Clearly, thebination of alcohol withdrawal and dehydration was tormenting him.


    Even the major''s voice sounded a bit hoarse as he listlessly told Winters, "After you disembark, take your ssmates and form up first. Don''t disperse right away. Report to the military headquarters first, and then you can go home."


    Winters epted the order, saluted and turned around to disembark the ship.


    He was a bit puzzled as to why the major called him out. Could it be just because he had shared a drink with him and looked familiar?


    On the pier, the acting captain was exchanging bills with the port''s customs officer.


    As amercial republic, customs was an important source of revenue for Sea Blue, and sessive executivemittees ced great emphasis on customs infrastructure.


    In Sea Blue, tax collectors would board the cargo ships before they entered the port to inspect the goods and are responsible for collecting the duty. A set of three identical bills was issued: the tax collector took one copy, while the merchant ship kept two as proof of duty payment and port entry permit.


    After entering the port, the customs staff at the dock would check the goods again and take one of the bills left by the tax collector for reconciliation and inspection. Only after the inspection was confirmed to be correct could the merchant ship begin unloading its cargo.


    This simple and effective system curbed corruption within the customs to some extent and was considered a model of efficient administration in that era.


    After a long walk down the wharf and finally stepping onto solid ground, Winters suddenly felt out of sorts.


    Right after regaining consciousness, Winters nearly vomited his stomach out because of seasickness. But once he had gotten used to the constant rocking of the Bandit Gull, stepping onto drynd actually made him feel seasick again.


    Despite the solid ground under his feet, Winters felt like he was treading on air, swaying uncontrobly.


    However, this feeling wasn''t too intense. Winters gathered his spirits, looked up, and scanned the Sea Blue Port dock, scanning his familiar yet strange homnd.


    Sea Blue had some subtle differences from his memories, but its spirit was the same¡ªbusy, bustling, and crowded with people.


    Everyone was busy with their own affairs, walking their own paths, and no one noticed or cared that a junior military officer who had been away from home for years had returned to his hometown.


    A handnded on Winters''s shoulder. Bard said with a smile, "Is this the Alliance''s premier port? It does seem more vibrant than Guidao City."


    "Ah, Lord Bard!" Winters ced his hand over his heart and made an exaggerated bow, then waved toward the bustling crowd on the wharf, smiling at Bard, "Wee to the heart of the esteemed Republic of Va, the gem upon the Inner Sea, the city ofmerce, the city of wealth¡ªSea Blue!"


    Bard yed along with the exaggerated gesture, jokingly saying to Winters, "But why have I heard that Sea Blue is the city of masks, conspiracies, assassinations, and secret societies? Aren''t assassins the most famous thing about Va?"

 Chapter 49: Chapter 28 Dock_2

    "Hey, that''s all in the past," Winters''s old face reddened, and he didn''t retort because Bard was right.


    Vians are impetuous like fire, treating life and death lightly and pursuing revenge seriously. Besides their custom of wearing swords and masks, they also have a tradition of secret societies.


    Outsiders don''t understand these customs, but Vians feel no shame in them; they take pride in these practices.


    However, Winters had lived in The Federated Provinces for six years, so he also felt that the Vian culture of masks, poisons, and daggers wasn''t very friendly.


    He waved his hands repeatedly and exined to Bard, "That all happened during the Imperial Era, and besides, we Vians assassinated only the imperialists and the old nobility, those assassins were heroes of The Alliance."


    Thirty years ago, before the church had its second schism, the brutal suppression of heretics provoked the resistance of the Vians.


    Under their cloaks, Vians with poisoned daggers roamed the streets and alleys of Sea Blue, assassinating church clergy on the street. Withrge numbers of clergymen lying dead on the streets, the remaining bishops and judges, shivering in their fortresses, dared not take a step outside.


    When the noble faction and the militia forces within The Alliance split, the Vians eagerly assassinated arge number of bay aristocrats. The Duke at the front of the mountain was thest legitimate heir outside of the faux-royal family, assassinated by a Vian assassin with a single sword strike, directly causing the extinction of the Fortnd family, even its sidestreams.


    "Is it in the past? Then why do I still see people on the streets wearing masks?" Bard''s eyes curved into crescents as he pointed and said, "Look, over there by the carriage, those people are all wearing masks."


    Winters followed Bard''s pointing and looked over, two ck four-wheeled carriages were parked on the cobblestone path by the dock. The carriages, painted ck with white wooden trim, werepletely enclosed. Small windows on the carriages, curtained, concealed whoever sat inside.


    Standing by the carriage were four individuals wearing ck tricorn hats and cloaks, their faces covered with white fool''s masks. These masks provided full coverage, with only the lower part arching upward slightly, resembling a bird''s beak.


    Known for their wealth and extravagance, Vians consider opulence in both attire and possessions as beautiful. Although these four individuals and two carriages by the dock seemed simple, they stood out starkly against the shy crowd and other carriages, drawing attention whether one wanted to notice or not.


    "Not everyone wearing a mask is an assassin, wearing a mask is just a custom. You wouldn''t understand, right? Even the ugliest men and women gain some beauty with a mask. Haven''t you seen the carnival? At that time, everyone in the city wears a mask," Winters carefully observed these cloaked figures but couldn''t determine why they were there: "They are probably just servants from some wealthy household here to pick someone up from the dock."


    "Shouldn''t servants be wearing liveries?" Bard, now intrigued, questioned.


    Before Winters could respond, a rough voice barged into their conversation: "What''s it to you? Maybe someone likes to use these outfits as liveries for their servants."


    Without even looking, Winters knew from the gravelly voice that it was Andre. Andre was seen lugging tworge suitcases in his hands, both evidently heavy, as he was dripping with sweat from just a short walk down from the ship.


    "Whoa! How much stuff did you bring back?" Winters was startled by Andre''s luggage.


    Andre spoke breathlessly, "I brought back everything!"


    The sound of metal shing was heard as Andre ced his luggage on the ground, leaving Winters wondering what it contained.


    "Don''t you still have to make another trip? Wouldn''t it be better to split it in two?" Winters was bemused by Andre''s stubbornness and recalled the task given by the Major. He then said to Andre and Bard, "Tell those who have already got off to not disband. Wait here in line for the Major. I''m going to the dock exit."


    Bard nodded, and Winters, carrying his baggage, walked to where the dock''s pier met solid ground, conveying the Major''s orders to every ssmate disembarking the ship.


    The dock was bustling with merchants, sailors, travelers, and manyborers. A burly porter in short attire passed by Winters, who suddenly felt a strong sense of familiarity with the man''s figure and remembered who it was. He shouted toward the figure, "Benwei? Benvenuto?"


    The porter turned around in confusion, then was also swept into joy, rushing over andughing as he embraced Winters.


    Benvenuto was Winters''s good friend from the Sea Blue branch of the Army Cadet School. After graduating, Benwei did not continue his education, whereas Winters went to a preparatory school in The Federated Provinces. They asionally corresponded, but it had been a full six years since they had seen each other.


    "Look at you! A real officer now!" Benwei, with tears in his eyes, punched Winters''s chest hard.


    Your next chapter awaits on §Þ??


    Winters alsoughed heartily and punched back: "You''ve gotten taller and stronger, how''s your family doing now?"


    "They''re doing well! My mother still talks about you all the time!"


    The two old friends, who hadn''t seen each other for years, had so much to catch up on that a few words couldn''t suffice; they quickly exchanged updates on their lives. Not far away, Benwei''s workmate was urging him to get back to work, so he had to leave.


    "Your family hasn''t moved, right?" Benwei asked reluctantly as he departed.

 Chapter 50: Chapter 28 Wharf_3

    Winters hurriedly shook his head, "No, it didn''t move, and your house didn''t move either, right?"


    "It didn''t move either. I''m heading back to work first, and after I get off work this evening, I''lle find you!"


    "It''s a deal!"


    After a brief conversation, the two separated again. Winters had never expected that he would run into an old friend and ssmate on the docks just after returning to Sea Blue.


    As he was reflecting on the notion that life has encounters everywhere, the four passengers from the Bandit Gull also disembarked and headed toward Winters from the jetty.


    As they passed by Winters, one of the passengers adjusted his hat and nodded at Winters with a smile.


    Having fought pirates together before, although Winters didn''t know who these four passengers were, they shared a camaraderie asrades-in-arms, prompting him to return the nod with a smile.


    Winters watched the four passengers walk off the jetty and head straight through the bustling crowds on the docks towards two ck carriages.


    He immediately looked at Bard and realized Bard was also watching him; evidently, Bard had noticed the passengers too. They exchanged a grin, surprised that the passengers being picked up by the two ck carriages were the four from the Bandit Gull.


    Winters'' gaze returned to the passengers, but what he saw next made him gasp.


    One of the passengers seemed to be embraced by a person in a ck cloak, yet Winters clearly saw a de, covered in blood, piercing through the passenger''s back, subtly trembling in the sunlight.


    In the next moment, the person in the ck cloak began dueling with the passenger. A sharp scream from a woman pierced everyone''s ears, and the brutal fight unfolding on the docks was noticed by the pedestrians.


    Among the remaining three passengers, one was fighting desperately to prevent the ck-cloaked individuals from advancing, while another guarded a more distinguished-looking passenger fleeing back towards the Bandit Gull, who was calling for help repeatedly.


    Seeing all of this unfold, Winters subconsciously decided he had to do something because he couldn''t stand by and watch these rades" get ughtered in broad daylight.


    With no other weapon at hand, he drew his blunt training sword and charged forward.


    The incident urred in the blink of an eye, and the warrant officers were still trying toprehend what was happening, staring nkly as two ck-cloaked individuals chased two passengers with swords drawn.


    The passenger who looked like a bodyguard, realizing he couldn''t escape, turned around to fight, trying to stop the two ck-cloaked individuals.


    When that bodyguard stopped, one of the ck-cloaked individuals also stopped and pulled out a particrly short musket from within his cloak. Without seeing himboriously attach a slow match, Winters just saw him point the musket at the bodyguard and fire it directly.


    A sh of red light, followed by a puff of white smoke, and the sound of gunfire resounded through the entire dock. If people were still unclear about what was happening, that gunshot plunged all the dock''s bystanders into chaos.


    Although Winters had no idea how the man in the ck cloak fired the musket without lighting it, he knew at such a short distance there was no chance the shot would miss; the bodyguard was undoubtedly doomed.


    However, contrary to expectations, the bodyguard who was hit by the musket at close range not only didn''t die but thrust his sword towards the ck-cloaked individual as if he hadn''t been shot at all.


    The more distinguished elderly passenger was shouting for help and scrambling towards the Bandit Gull, and Winters brushed past him to meet another ck-cloaked individual head-on.


    With no time to think, Winters instinctively swung his sword with all his might using the furious style. It was Winters'' most powerful strike, and even with a blunt Longsword, he could shatter bones. The opponent would have to dodge if he didn''t want to die. Experience tales at §Þ??


    Yet, the other''s single-handed sword somehow circumvented the Longsword with agility that was impossible for a Longsword, plunging straight into Winters'' chest like a venomous snake.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the inconveniently carried dividing line¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    D¨¹rer''s "Knight, Death, and the Devil" illustrates how soldiers of the era carried their weapons. The Knight in the painting has a two-handed Longsword slung diagonally across his waist. Interested readers may wish to seek it out for appreciation.

 Chapter 51: Chapter 29 Assassination

    Winters had never seen such a flexible one-handed sword before.


    Compared tomon one-handed arming swords, the longsword''s de could already be considered slender.


    Yet the one-handed sword in the robed figure''s hands was even more delicate than the de of the longsword, and despite being a one-handed sword, its length was no shorter than the two-handed sword Winters wielded.


    How could something so long be so flexible? It was utterly baffling.


    Fortunately, this wasn''t apetition; there were no points to score.


    The Winters of old believed that swordsmanship depended on sparring, and that so-called insights into swordsmanship were just useless nonsense. But after shing with pirates in a boarding fight, he began to ponder anew the teachings of his teacher, Richard Nal.


    "Don''t just charge blindly; your footwork must be agile."


    Seeing his own strike miss and his opponent''s sword already bypassing his guard, stabbing upwards from below the de, Winters readily let go of the longsword in his hand and flung it directly at his opponent.


    "In apetition, that would be an instant loss," he thought. Perhaps it was the experience of two consecutive real battles, but he was no longer so nervous, and he even began to mock himself.


    Regardless of what was on his mind, Winters'' body didn''t stop. He took two quick steps back to dodge the tip of his opponent''s sword.


    The assassins from Va were especially fond of using poison, and Winters had grown up hearing stories about daggersced with toxins. So, even if there was only a one percent chance, he didn''t want to risk even a scratch from his opponent''s de. Discover hidden content at §Þ??


    The opponent didn''t expect Winters to have a move that turned a longsword into a throwing axe, and failing to dodge in time, was solidly hit.


    When the robed figure was hit, Winters heard a strange sound. Unfortunately, his longsword was a blunt training sword, and the hit merely caused his opponent to let out a stifled groan of pain without causing any external injury that might incapacitate him.


    Winters'' "sword throwing technique" briefly dyed the robed figure, who was furious at being tricked and didn''t bother pursuing the traveler he was originally after but instead charged straight at Winters with his sword.


    Winters hadn''t expected his sword-throwing technique to also have a taunting effect. He snickered internally and then... took to his heels and ran.


    He didn''t know the level of the robed figure''s swordsmanship, but had this been apetition where victory was at stake, the opponent''s de entanglement earlier would have secured a win.


    However, this was a dock, not a training ground; a fight to the death, not apetition.


    So, if I can''t outfight you, can''t I outrun you?


    Yet, Winters had nowhere to go but the pier behind him, so like the traveler who had scrambled before him, he too stepped onto the pier and headed straight for the Bandit Gull.


    The freight and rmed passersby on the pier hindered the progress of the three runners, and the robed figure watched Winters get ahead. Despite having run a dozen or so steps, he couldn''t catch up.


    Winters had just seen another robed figure using a gun that could be fired instantly. Since another person had it, there was no reason to think that the robed figure chasing him wouldn''t have such a deadly tool.


    He was constantly on guard against this possibility, so he didn''t dare just run blindly; he kept looking back at the robed figure.


    Sure enough, he glimpsed the robed figure raising his other hand, concealed beneath his robe, toward him, and in it was that strange-looking gun.


    Already prepared, Winters dove behind a stack of cargo about half a man''s height, akin to a short wall, as soon as the robed figure raised his hand, and cursed, "(Expletive)! You resort to a gun in a sword fight! How utterly (expletive) shameless!"


    Enraged nearly to the point of spitting blood, the robed figure shot back, "Aren''t you the (expletive) running like a rabbit?!"


    But talking spelled the robed figure''s downfall,pletely shattering the image of a silent and efficient assassin.


    The robed figure''s retort made Winters realize that this was just an ordinary person capable of anger and joy, and his courage swelled even further.


    As the robed figure approached, Winters peered through the cracks between the crates and saw his opponent''s gun pointing at him continuously, so he did not dare to show himself.


    But struck with a sudden inspiration, he remembered Axel''s Hair Burning Spell that he had used once before. He immediately formed the hand gestures for casting a fire spell, recalling the sensation of igniting the hair of a female bandit the other night.


    Though he couldn''t see the hair beneath the robed figure''s cloak, he pushed his magical abilities to the limit regardless, channeling magical power into the top of the robed figure''s head.


    Familiar pressure and phantom limb pain made Winters tremble, but he gritted his teeth and struggled to maintain the spell until the veryst moment.


    On the ship, the continual intense phantom pain in his third hand from fighting fires had gradually diminished.


    However, just to be safe, the Major prohibited any spellcasters with the rank of Warrant Officer from using any magical abilities until they had fully returned to the normal state. Clearly, that caution now had to be disregarded.


    Winters only sustained the use of his magical abilities for a brief period before the agonizing torment made it impossible for him to concentrate. He took deep breaths and stopped casting the spell.


    It seemed as if a few wisps of blue smoke rose from the robed figure''s head, but unlike the female bandit, there wasn''t an immediate intensebustion; the figure continued moving, indicating that Axel''s Hair Burning Spell had seemingly failed.


    Winters knew he was clutching at straws; his spellcasting range was actually about one meter. He could use spells within this range, but beyond that distance, his magical abilities became negligible. Managing to cause a bit of smoke to rise from the robed figure''s head a few meters away was already an overachievement.

 Chapter 52: Chapter 29 Assassination_2

    Winters took a deep breath and prepared to use a spell again. He nned to wait for the robed man toe closer beforeunching out to engage in closebat, then use the Hair Burning Spell once more at close range.


    Heforted himself mentally, "Anyway, after my tricks, that bastard surely can''t catch up with the elderly traveler. If worsees to worst, I''ll jump into the water."


    The robed man strode to Winters''s front, and Winters, bracing himself for action, waited until the man''s sword tip was about to sweep over his head when, out of nowhere, a thunderous boom resounded on the pier.


    The loudness of the st was iparable even to the strongest thunderp. Winters felt as if he had ced his ear against the muzzle of a thirty-two-pound cannon when someone ignited the gunpowder within.


    The thunderous roar left Winters dizzy and ringing in his ears, and the robed man involuntarily covered his ears as well.


    A faint whizzing sound was followed by a crisp clink of metal from the robed man''s body.


    Turning towards the source of the thunder, Winters saw Major Moritz standing on a nk between the Bandit Gull and the jetty, with blood streaming from his ears, his arm pointing at the robed man.


    Something in Major Moritz''s hand reflected faintly as another whizzing sound was followed by another crisp metallic sh against the robed man''s body, and something rebounded off him and onto the pier.


    The robed man raised his musket and aimed at the Major, who waved his hand, a shot rang out, and the bullet hit the hull of the Bandit Gull, splintering the wood.


    Deafening thunder, Major Moritz, silver coins, metallic shes, bullets curving, strange sounds when the longsword struck the opponent... Winters understood, Winters figured it all out: Major Moritz was also a Spellcaster! He just didn''t wear the badge! And this robed bastard was wearing a chain shirt under his cloak.


    "Aim for his head, Major!" Winters shouted to alert the Major, "He''s wearing a breastte under his cloak!"


    The Major, as if deaf to Winters''s words, shot two more silver coins with the Arrow Flying Spell, hitting the robed man''s armor with a ng but obviously unable to prate.


    Seeing the Major disregard his advice, Winters felt an urgent frenzy. Desperate, he leaped out from behind cover and mmed his shoulder hard into the robed man.


    He was not entirely reckless, for he had seen that the robed man''s musket was empty, so he used both hands to snatch at the man''s longsword.


    The robed man had not expected this petty swordsman, who had been running away, to dare counterattack. He was struck solidly in the chest by Winters and, off-bnce, fell to the ground.


    Winters had learned this move from a female thief. If only he had brought a dagger, he could have taken the robed man''s life with this blow.


    The feel of his shoulder striking the robed man confirmed Winters''s estimation; indeed, the man was wearing te armor under his cloak.


    Winters pinned the robed man down with his body, grasped the man''s right hand and forearm, and used grappling techniques to twist his wrist, forcing him to release his grasp.


    The robed man was tough, enduring the pain while holding firmly onto his single-handed sword. With his left hand, he reversed the musket and hammered down on Winters''s back with the butt.


    A reversed musket was like a warhammer. A dull thud resonated from Winters''s back as if it were a drum, and he thought he could hear his own ribs cracking. No longer caring for decorum, he resorted to the most primal weapon known to animals¡ªteeth¡ªand bit down fiercely on the robed man''s right wrist.


    Humans have a bite force of nearly fifty kilograms, and with one bite, Winters tasted the metallic vor of blood. The robed man, hurt by the bite, could no longer hold onto his longsword, and Winters wrested it away.


    The robed man wore a breastte, rendering attacks on his torso ineffective. Seeing the single-handed sword Winters had snatched had a de at the base of the sword body as well, he directly wiped it across the robed man''s neck. The robed man''s reaction was extremely quick; he guarded his throat with the musket, blocking the de.


    The two men fought like farmwives in a muddy pond, using the most disgraceful methods to try to kill each other.


    The robed man''s single-handed sword was excessively long, putting him at a disadvantage in closebat. Winters got up, intending to regain his standing position.


    The robed man also tried to get up and was immediately met by a vicious kick to the chin from Winters. The blow drained the robed man of his strength, and he fell back heavily to the ground.


    Wielding the de, Winters left a deep wound on the robed man''s left arm, and the man''s musket slipped from his left hand.


    Now Winters had the upper hand. As he hesitated between killing the robed man outright or capturing him for interrogation, he heard Major Moritz''s loud warning, "Be careful!"


    Looking up, he saw the de of a trembling sword aimed at him as two more robed men arrived.


    Winters stepped back and parried the thrust. The robed men pushed him back but did not press their attack; one stood with a sword, facing him, while the other knelt down to check on hispatriot.


    One down, two more to contend with.


    Two against one, a dire situation.


    Winters fiercely challenged, "Do you have a death wish? How dare you attack an officer!"


    The robed man in front of him did not respond. His mask obscured his face, so Winters could not see his expression, only the eyes that stared intently at him.


    The robed man who had been kicked hard in the head by Winters recovered consciousness and, with the help of another robed man, staggered to his feet.

 Chapter 53: Chapter 29 Assassination_3

    Winters cursed under his breath, was this guy''s chin made of stone? He was now seriously regretting not having a steel te fitted into the front of his boots.


    One against two had turned into one against three, making things even worse. Winters pointed his sword at the robed men and slowly stepped backward to regroup with the Major.


    Winters''s brain raced with thoughts: the robed men''s target was obviously the older traveler, and since he had held them off for so long, the traveler had evidently found a safe ce to hide. Their n had already fallen through;


    Under the circumstances of not letting them achieve their goal, there was no need for him to try to kill or capture the enemies by forcibly fighting against greater numbers;


    If the opponents hesitated, unwilling to retreat, then all Winters and the Major had to do was to hold on for a while. Once the other students realized what was happening and came to support them, these few robed men would be trapped like turtles in a jar, unable to escape even if they grew wings;


    Therefore, the top priority was to dy time as much as possible.


    Having realized this, Winters began to ramble nonsense to distract the attention of the robed men, "Take a look behind you, your two carriages have been stolen, what are you still standing here for like fools?


    ...


    Don''t you know that with just a shout, I can summon more than thirty brothers? You dare to attack an army officer in broad daylight, don''t me us if we fight you with superior numbers.


    ...


    Also, it''s supposed to be a sword fight, yet you shamelessly wear armor and use muskets, how despicable is that?


    ...


    By the way, your swords aren''t poisoned, right? That feh who''s down got a nasty cut on his arm with his own de, you''d better go back and help him out.


    ..."


    Winters took a step back with each word he spoke, and for a while, the three robed men didn''t seem to know how to respond to an officer who had just been fighting for his life and now was talking nonsense, irritating them.


    But they seemed unwilling to give up their target and leave, so with every step Winters took back, they pressed forward.


    The Major, too, sword in hand, quickly moved to Winters''s side.


    Winters saw that the Major''s ears were still bleeding, the blood streaming down in two long streaks, dripping off his jaw.


    One of the robed men, unable to endure Winters''s meaningless verbal assault any longer,unched an attack first, and another followed suit.


    Winters and the Major began a sword fight with the two robed men. The sword of the other robed man was now in Winters''s possession, so he didn''t join the duel but stood behind his peers, reloading his musket.


    This was the first time Winters had used this type of one-handed sword, with its center of gravity at the guard, making it feel incredibly agile. However, as a result, the effect of shing was reduced.


    Winters was not ustomed to this type of sword; he merely managed to parry his opponent''s attacks awkwardly.


    On the other hand, the Major, despite Winters''s impression of his sword as merely ornamental, was holding his own with that very ornament.


    In an armor-less duel, a single round could determine life or death. But after two rounds, neither Winters, the Major, nor the two robed men could defeat the other, and they all returned to a face-off and cautious probing.


    However, a scream drew everyone''s attention.


    The two robed men looked over Winters''s shoulder towards his back.


    While curious, Winters dared not look back easily. He and the Major took a big step back to widen the gap with their opponents before turning to see what had happened.


    The sight before them was shocking: on the pier, the older traveler who had reached a safe area was stabbed through the heart by a dockworker with a short de, the tip protruding from his back.


    That dockworker casually pulled out the short de and, under everyone''s gaze, leisurely lit the fuses of two box-like contraptions with his pipe and then turned and jumped into the sea.


    At the same time, on other moored merchant ships at the pier, a few other dockworkers tossed several packages with lit fuses onto the pier and then also jumped into the sea.


    Onended close to Winters. When he looked back again, the robed men were gone.


    He and the Major exchanged nces; they didn''t recognize what these things were, but they immediately guessed their purpose.


    Hand-held explosive grenades had been used by the people of the Ancient Empire a thousand years ago, and iron-cased hand grenades were definitely not something new in the Sovereignty Wars thirty years ago.


    With the fuses burning rapidly, there was no time to think. Winters and the Major jumped straight into the sea. The shockwave from the violent explosion churned the water, pushing Winters deeper.


    It was only after he choked on a mouthful of water that Winters remembered something crucial: he couldn''t swim.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªThis line divides guny from the skills of swordsmanship¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Expert duelist Michael Hunter''s book "The Artistic New Swift Sword Swordsmanship Compendium" details a hundred moves, with the hundredth one stating the following: The world is bing dangerous, so please don''t use a dagger as a secondary weapon to the Swift Sword anymore, if you have a gun, use a gun.

 Chapter 54: Chapter 30 A Mess

    Three hours after the dockside assassination, in the two-story building of the Sea Blue City Customs General Administration, the air seemed to have congealed into a solid.


    Robert Hurd, the Chief Administrative Officer of Sea Blue City Customs, now felt as though his head was splitting.


    One of his piers had been blown to bits, his morgue had several more bodies, and these were not even the most troublesome issues. The most pressing problem at the moment was that his jail was crammed with military officers.


    With a gloomy expression on the face of the big boss, the lower-level clerks naturally trembled with apprehension.


    From the highest-ranked assistant to the lowest-ranked copyist, every customs clerk buried their heads as deep as possible into the files on their desks, not daring to breathe too loudly.


    Inside Hurd''s office, the heads of various departments under the Chief Administrative Officer looked solemn, all silently smoking, no one speaking.


    The office of the highest-ranking official of customs was shrouded in smoke, as if heavy fog had descended.


    Earlier, right in this office, after Hurd had listened to the reports from the heads of departments about the dock explosion that urred a few hours ago, an unreachable ce inside his skull had started to experience pulsating, severe pain, and his temples throbbed rhythmically.


    Now, seeing that none of his department heads would break their silence, Hurd couldn''t help but inwardly sigh at these ipetents, none of whom were reliable. He stood up and opened the window behind him.


    The fresh sea breeze swept the secondhand smoke from the office. Hurd gathered his energy and asked in a deep voice, "Does anyone have any information that hasn''t been mentioned and would like to add anything?"


    The response was a silence akin to death.


    Seeing no one spoke, Hurd frowned and continued, "Then let me summarize. This afternoon, a fight broke out on the dock; a pier was reduced to rubble, several people died, and, moreover, a group of military officers were implicated."


    "We understand that''s pretty much the situation, right? The pressing issue now is how to handle those detained military men¡ªwe need toe up with a solution quickly." Hurd leaned back in his chair, tapping the desk lightly with his fingers before suddenly letting out a cold chuckle, "Is that army what''s-his-name still ranting about ughtering us?"


    "Uh... Yes," the head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau timidly nodded. The military officers were ced in the cells originally meant for smugglers, which were now under his charge, "General Layton is currently resting in my office... but I think if we continue holding onto his men, he might just charge into the General Administration with his sword."


    "Let hime!" Hurd mmed the table hard, causing cups, ink bottles, and other small objects on the desk to jump an inch high, "Is the mighty Customs really afraid of him?"


    "We''re naturally not afraid, and we definitely won''t be at a disadvantage in a head-on collision," the head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau wiped sweat from his forehead and offered a wry smile, "But we can''t just keep the army guys locked up in the Anti-Smuggling cells forever, can we? The situation is not justifiable, and Customs really has no right. I think, why not simply let them go? The army men seem very cooperative with our investigation, they are all officers registered in the military roster, even if we let them go they won''t just disappear. We can call them back for assistance with the investigation as needed."


    "Let them go? Easy for you to say. If the army was behind the explosion, and if you let them go today, how could they ever let us catch them again? If you ask me, we must interrogate each one to clear up what exactly happened today before anyone thinks of leaving!" As soon as the head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau mentioned releasing people, the Tax Bureau head protested.


    He strongly disagreed with the suggestion of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau head; the two had always been at odds, constantly at each other''s throats.


    "Then you do the questioning! You''ve been interrogating all afternoon, what useful things have you discovered? Aren''t you still clueless with every question?" The Anti-Smuggling Bureau head, his anger stoked, retorted aggressively.


    "Interrogating my ass! Just asking politely, what can you find out? These sons of bitches definitely have something they''re not telling." The Tax Bureau head''s face turned red as he yelled loudly, "Chief, let''s use torture! Just give the nod, and I''ll administer it right now, I guarantee these army scoundrels will spill everything they know."


    "Torture? You want to go to war with the army?" The head of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau shouted as he leaped up.


    "Bang!" A loud noise erupted as Hurd''s fist created a crack on the oak desktop, "Everyone shut up!"


    The two high-ranking customs officials closed their mouths and angrily returned to their seats.


    Hurd''s head now ached even more.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªSeparator¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    "Hey! Talking to you guys! How long are you going to keep us locked up? What right does Customs have to detain us? Release us!" Andre, grasping the bars of the cell, shouted at the two guards by the door, one portly and one slim. He angrily kicked the cell door so hard that it dislodged a chunk of dust from the walls.


    "Mr. Officer, sir, it''s not that we''re keeping you," the slim guard said with a smile, trying to appease in a fawning tone, "Please don''t give us a hard time. We''re just earning our living. Why you''re being kept here, how would we know? We do what our boss tells us to."


    "If you don''t know, call someone who does!"


    "The higher-ups are not here right now, this cell is just the two of us. How about I get you some water?"


    "I''ll drink your..."


    "Forget it, Andre,e over here and sit down." Seeing the slim guard being slippery, Winters didn''t want to watch Andre get mocked by his words, so he called out softly to Andre.

 Chapter 55: Chapter 30 A Mess_2

    Andre snorted coldly; he too had realized that, despite his polite speech, the skinny man in front of him was imprable. He walked straight back to Winters,y down on the ground, shut his eyes immediately, and casually grabbed a handful of wheat straw to use as a pillow.


    Winters was now sitting cross-legged on the ground, shirtless, while Bard inspected the area on his back where he had been hit by the butt of the ck-robed man''s gun.


    It''s necessary to mention a counterintuitive piece of knowledge: even in a future when humans begin to use lightweight polymers to make firearms, guns still weigh more than cold weapons. An unloaded assault rifle weighs at least five pounds, while Winters''s Longsword weighs only three; let alone in this era where wooden stocks were still in use.


    Therefore, in those days, using a firearm the wrong way around was essentially like using a hammer. Many musketeers who found themselves in closebat didn''t even bother to draw their swords, preferring to swing the butt of their guns to strike their enemy instead.


    The initial hit with the butt of the gun hadn''t hurt Winters too much, but now a dull pain had begun to throb in his back.


    "These assassins struck viciously." Bard smacked his lips as hemented, pressing gently on the bruised area with his fingers: "Does it hurt when I press like this?"


    "How can it not hurt? You''d feel pain if you were hit too," Winters said with a wry smile.


    "I mean, do the bones hurt?"


    "It''s bearable, a bit painful, but I can hold on."


    "That''s good; the bones should be fine. You probably didn''t get hit too hard because you were wrestling with him." Bard spected about the situation and gave his medical advice: "In any case, even if the bones were broken, there''s nothing to be done but to let them heal. Regardless, you should rest properly for a month without causing any trouble."


    "That scoundrel was insufferable, secretly wearing a breastte under his robe." The more Winters thought about it, the angrier he got, his impotent rage ring: "If I had been wearing te armor too, do you think he could have injured me?"


    As Bard helped a grimacing Winters, who winced in pain when he lifted his arm, put his clothes back on, he casually remarked, "Really? I actually thought those ck-robed men had pretty formidable swordsmanship."


    That hit home for Winters. Reflecting on his fight with the assassin, he said earnestly, "Definitely formidable; the ck-robed man who hit me with the butt of his gun had very precise control over the distance. And their swords had their center of bnce at the hilt, making them extremely agile. In a true one-on-one duel, I probably wouldn''t stand a chance against him; I''d have to call on Aike for a secure victory."


    "I reckon you could search the whole bay and not find more than a few swordsmen as skilled as the master." Bard said with a smile.


    "Ha-ha, that''s justpetition. After all, we''ve seen bloodshed. If it was a fight to the death, Aike might not be able to handle us now," Winters said, a smile creeping onto his face as he thought of Aike. He continued with enthusiasm, "I''ve reached a new understanding of swordsmanship. If I were to carry a short gun like those ck-robed men... even against Aike, I wouldn''t be afraid. Hmm, one might not be enough, carrying two would be safer."


    "Then did you figure out how he managed to fire the musket without a match?" Bard had been unable to understand this point.


    "I didn''t catch it; it must be some special design." Winters shook his head. He hade into close contact with the ck-robed man''s musket and confirmed there was no match lit, but he had been unable to discern the specific mechanism.


    However, Winters recalled subduing the ck-robed man on the jetty and said cheerfully, "That guy carried a specially made firearm, and still I knocked him out with a kick. If hispanion hadn''te to his rescue, I might have taken him alive. Once we''re out of here, I''ll reinforce my boot tips with metal tes. Next time I''ll kick his jaw to pieces."


    He bragged somewhat proudly, "I''m increasingly feeling that the battle we fought during boarding with pirates is very important. Aike truly might not handle the two of us now."


    "What practical experience? It''s merely the art of killing we''ve honed," Bard''s sentiment didn''t carry the same pride as Winters''s; he was bittersweet: "I can''t even imagine what my father and mother would think if they knew I had killed someone."


    This statement struck a chord with Winters; what would his own family think if they knew he had taken several lives? His pride melted away instantly.


    Winters tried tofort Bard dryly, "Haven''t we spent so many years at the military academy learning this very skill? Cough, it''s a necessity. Don''t overthink it. Like Andre said, ''just think of yourself as a tool,'' that''ll make it easier."


    Just then, a startled yet ted voice came from the other end of the cell, "The major has woken up! He''s awake!"


    A few hours earlier, Winters and Major Moritz had jumped into the sea to avoid an explosion, but it wasn''t until he had started choking on water that Winters remembered he couldn''t swim.


    As he panicked, iled his limbs around, and was on the verge of drowning, a pair of strong arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him back to the surface.


    Even now, when Winters recalled the feeling of nearly drowning, he couldn''t help but shiver all over.


    Winters initially thought it was the major who had saved him, but once he was dragged ashore, he realized it wasn''t the major who had saved him but his old ssmate, Benwei.


    What about the major? There was no sign of the major on the sea surface; it turned out the major couldn''t swim either!


    Without the time to exchange pleasantries with Winters, Benwei dove back into the water.

 Chapter 56: Chapter 30 A Mess_3

    It took quite a while before they saw him emerge from the water, holding the major aloft.


    The major, just dragged back to the shore, was breathless. The dock workers employed every method they could think of, from pounding on his throat to sucking his nasal passages, to revive him from the brink of theherworld.


    But after briefly regaining consciousness and his breath, the major again fell into aa.


    Soon, the army warrant officers were surrounded by customs guards who had hurried over upon hearing themotion. The confused warrant officers faced off with the even more confused customs guards.


    Following negotiations, General Layton ordered the warrant officers to "proceed with dignity to the customs office to cooperate with the investigation." Thus, the warrant officers were not searched, allowed to keep their luggage, and were "politely" escorted into the rooms of the anti-smuggling department.


    Major Moritz was originally supposed to apany General Layton to the anti-smuggling chief''s office for a "rest," but since the major was still unconscious, he remained in the cell under the care of the warrant officers.


    The just-awakened major was extremely feeble, barely opening his eyes and half-opening his mouth, with his lips trembling slightly.


    "Water, get water quickly," the major''s ssmate who was supporting him urgently called for help.


    The lean guard hastily poured a cup of water, which was passed hand to hand to the person in front of the major. Everyone was in a flurry to prop the major into a semi-sitting position, carefully feeding the water to him.


    As the water trickled into the major''s mouth, the warrant officers all breathed a sigh of relief.


    However, hardly had their hearts settled when the bit of water they fed the major was spat back out.


    Everyone was dumbfounded.


    Seeing the water he had fed being regurgitated, Winters too was stunned.


    But as he watched the major''s haggard face, a lightbulb went off in his head, and he suddenly had an epiphany about what was going on.


    The major needed a drink!


    Winters shouted at the two guards, "Alcohol! Bring alcohol! Not water! Quickly bring alcohol!"


    "Sir, where am I supposed to get alcohol at a time like this?" the lean guard said helplessly. "I don''t even have alcohol to drink, can''t you just make do with water?"


    "(Expletive)! If you can''t find it, go to your superior!" Seeing the sly official still trying to be slippery at a time like this, Winters was furious and roared, "Bring alcohol! Or I''ll kill you!"


    The two guards were so frightened their faces turned pale, and the lean one quickly left the cell.


    He returned shortly with General Layton and the cell block''s head guard.


    The cell door creaked open, and General Layton briskly walked over to Major Moritz''s side. Seeing that the major had regained consciousness, he too let out a sigh of relief.


    The warrant officers poured the grape wine brought by Layton into a cup and fed it bit by bit to Major Moritz.


    This time, the major didn''t spit it out. His Adam''s apple moved up and down, clearly indicating he swallowed the drink.


    Winters thought he saw a trace of satisfaction on the major''s face, with tears seemingly swirling in his eyes, and hisplexion greatly improved.


    The major drank a full ss of red wine before signaling to the cadet that he didn''t need any more.


    Seeing that Major Moritz was markedly better after downing a ss of wine, General Layton bent over and asked with concern, "Major Moritz, how are you feeling now, can you speak?"


    Unexpectedly, the major paid no attention to General Layton''s words,pletely ignoring him. Layton''s face immediately showed some irritation.


    Winters exined sadly to General Layton:


    "General, the major has lost his hearing."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the line of demarcation for having lost hearing in both ears¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    P.S 1: Until the Sino-Japanese War, some of our forebears who were not adept at bay fighting still fought against the Japanese army using the technique of wielding their rifles like war hammers.


    P.S 2: If you have any rmendation tickets or such, could you please give them to me? Thank you.

 Chapter 57: Chapter 31 Old Friend Comes

    "General, the Major has gone deaf."


    Upon hearing Winters''s words, Major General Layton turned pale, his eyebrows arching, his pupils slightly dted, as he repeatedly asked, "What happened? How did he go deaf?"


    What kind of person could make Major Moritz, who was both a spellcaster and a master of swordsmanship, go deaf?


    It was he himself.


    The thunderp on the dock still filled Winters''s ears with a faint screeching noise; that deafening thunder wasn''t Zeus venting his anger or Thor swinging his hammer, but the effect of the Major''s angry shout amplified by a sound spell.


    Sound spells, including the one that caused the burst of sound, belong to the same category as sound amplification spells, but the former is simply a more powerful, intensified version of thetter.


    Sound amplification spells merely multiply the volume of spoken words several times, mostly used to conveymands; whereas the burst of sound spell endows the voice with the might of thunder, capable of destroying a person''s sense of bnce. If a sound amplification spell is a garden hose nozzle, then the burst of sound spell is like the legendary Urbain siege cannon.


    This incredibly powerful burst of sound spell repelled the ck-robed assassin, saving Winters''s life.


    But it also caused Winters to still suffer from tinnitus while directly rupturing the Major''s own eardrums.


    The burst of sound spell is recognized as the most powerful among sound spells, but it''s also the least practical.


    It is an indiscriminate attack; the closer one is to the source of the sound, the stronger the spell''s power.


    And who, generally speaking, is closest to the source? Of course, the spellcaster himself.


    Especially for someone like the Major, who is both a spellcaster and the source of the sound - regardless of the power of the sound spell, the one who suffers the most severe damage is always the caster himself.


    That is why the burst of sound spell is currently considered impractical.


    On the dockside walkway, once Winters realized the Major was a spellcaster and saw him bleeding from both ears, he immediately understood that the Major had, in his urgency to save him, cast the burst of sound spell without wearing any protective gear.


    He exined the principle of the burst of sound spell and the Major''s ruptured eardrums as sinctly as possible to the General and his ssmates, who listened and sighed in dismay.


    "We can use paper and pen tomunicate with the Major. Right now, he just can''t hear sounds, speaking and reading shouldn''t be any issue," Winters suggested with a furrowed brow, his heart filled with guilt and apology towards the Major, who became this tragic figure in his quest to save him.


    Everyone thought it was indeed a good idea and quickly brought paper and pen.


    While Major General Layton dictated, Winters wrote, the quill scratching against the paper, a line of text flowing from its tip: Major Moritz, Layton D. Castel is speaking with you. Can you make your own judgment as to whether you have regained consciousness?


    The Major stared at the paper and nodded his head.


    Another line was written: Do you still remember who we are?


    The Major nodded again.


    A third line: What does the number 4 represent?


    The Major''s mouth curled into a wry smile as he helplessly chuckled, took the quill from Winters, and scrawled unevenly: My head feels heavy and foggy, and I''m very tired, but my mind is clear.


    Winters took back the quill and continued to trante Major General Layton''s words into text: Can you hear sounds right now?


    The Major gently shook his head.


    Winters continued writing: You might have gone deaf.


    The Major''s expression was as calm as a cidke, and he nodded lightly, his eyes seemingly saying: I know, I understand.


    Major General Layton asked another question: Can you speak now?


    The resigned smile returned to Major Moritz''s lips. The Major cleared his throat and responded in a voice three times louder than normal, "I can''t hear sounds! I can''t control the volume of my voice! I can speak! But I do not wish to speak right now!"


    Major General Layton asked a few more trivial questions, to which Major Moritz responded one by one.


    Seeing that Major Moritz indeed had regained his rity of mind, Major General Layton''s furrowed brow rxed slightly. Noticing the Major''s state of fatigue, he asked the Major if he wished to leave this "room."


    After receiving a negative answer, Major General Layton left the Major in the care of the warrant officers and briskly left the cell, apparently to go and have another spat with the customs bureaucrats.


    Winters had wanted to let the weary Major rest properly, but instead, the Major insisted on staying alert and refused to lie down. He signaled to the warrant officers to help him sit up against the wall.


    An official''s rank carried substantial weight; a whole four levels higher was a different story altogether. Even for the Major''s own well-being, Winters had no choice but to offer powerless "advice" in writing: You should rest properly.


    The Major took the quill: I am fine, I just need to know our current situation, there are some questions I need answered.


    Winters grabbed another quill: Have you used the burst of sound spell before? Can your hearing be restored?


    Seeing Winters''s worried face, the Major smiled and wrote: I wouldn''t say I''mpletely deaf, I can still hear the sound of my teeth shing, which means it''s just eardrum damage. I have been through this once before, a period of convalescence should restore my hearing; there''s no need to worry.


    Relieved that the Major had confirmed his hearing could recover, Winters finally breathed easier, feeling much more at ease.


    The Major''s pen nib danced as he asked in detail about the major and minor incidents that urred since the Bandit Gull docked.

 Chapter 58: Chapter 31 Old Friends Arrival_2

    Winters, though wishing to allow the major to rest, could onlyply with his will, answering each question with statements as concise as possible.


    The two men engaged in conversation through the use of pens, repeating the process of query and response.


    As more intelligence was gathered, the major''s spirit seemed to improve. He even drank another ss of red wine midway.


    After understanding the information Winters and the other warrant officers knew, the major closed his eyes, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the paper as the warrant officers exchanged puzzled nces, watching the major seemingly lost in thought.


    The major appeared to be dozing off, and after a short while, he finally reopened his eyes.


    This time, his eyes regained their former brilliance. He wrote swiftly on the paper: "It seems we''re suffering from an undeserved disaster."


    The major was indeed correct, Winters wrote: "Yes, those assassins were clearly targeting those travelers. We were just implicated. Now that customs can''t find the assassin, they''re not letting us leave, probably hoping to pin the me on us."


    A derisive snort came from the major''s nose. He shook his head indifferently and wrote: "Tell everyone to rx; this matter doesn''t concern us, customs can''t do anything to us. Has the military department been notified yet?"


    Winters nodded and wrote: "One of the conditions for our ''cooperation with the investigation'' is that we must inform the Army Department."


    Despite his pale face, Major Moritz seemed quite rxed. He wrote with a smile: "Then by tomorrow at thetest, customs will have to let us go. If those high-ranking officials in the military department take it to heart, we might be going home tonight."


    Major Moritz''s confidence inspired the warrant officers, igniting a me of hope in their hearts. Hope was the most precious thing; with it, even being trapped here wouldn''t be too unbearable.


    The tip of the major''s pen moved subtly: "Let everyone rest, don''t crowd around me, I''m fine. Just eat and drink whatever you like, and wait to go home."


    Receiving the word, the warrant officers dispersed and sat back down in various parts of the cell, finding ways to pass the time.


    Winters was about to help the major lie down on the straw bed to rest when he suddenly recalled something, an intelligence that might be very important, a piece of information he wasn''t sure if he should share with hisrades.


    He scanned the room, noting that the others'' attentions were elsewhere, even Bard and Andre had returned to their luggage. He then picked up the quill again, dipped it in ink, pulled out a new sheet of paper, and wrote quietly to the major: "You''re an army spellcaster, right?"


    Major Moritz, puzzled, nodded.


    Winters continued to write: "The assassin shot at you, and if I''m not mistaken, you used a Deflection Spell to turn the bullet away, right?"


    The major nodded again.


    Winters went on: "Deflection Spell is a very difficult spell, right?"


    Clear-minded, the major seemed to have a slight premonition of what Winters was implying. He pursed his lips and nodded.


    Winters nced around once more, ensuring that only he and the major could see the paper in his hands. After hesitating repeatedly, he finally resolved to write: "Among those four travelers, there''s also a spellcaster."


    The major''s brows knotted, he lifted his chin slightly, signaling Winters to continue writing.


    Winters wrote quickly, his handwriting bing sloppy: "If I''m not mistaken, one of the guards among the travelers used a Deflection Spell at the dock. The musket was fired at close range, yet the bullets hit the ground."


    The major''s expression turned grave; his eyes fixated on Winters. Winters read from those eyes the question the major wanted to ask: "Are you certain?"


    With a forthright and determined nod, Winters confirmed; he had seen with his own eyes how the assassin''s musket, aimed directly at the guard, inexplicably struck the stone bs of the dock. His penmanship grew resolute: "I am certain of what I saw. Others must have seen it too, but I dare not confirm it with them."


    Major Moritz exhaled heavily, clearly convinced by Winters''s expression and attitude. He believed Winters was not lying. The major ground his teeth for a moment and deftly tore off thest two paragraphs Winters had written, ripping them into small pieces and swallowing them, chasing them down with a gulp of wine.


    Winters stared dumbfounded as the major "destroyed the evidence," momentarily stunned.


    Having set down his wine ss, Major Moritz wrote quickly on the paper: "Do not speak of this to anyone, and let no one from customs know. We will discuss this matter after leaving this ce."


    The major paused, then added a phrase: "A secret discussion."


    Winters nodded in understanding. In the Senas Alliance, only the army possessed magicians; the spellcaster training system was almost entirely the army''s exclusive domain. If customs found out that one of the parties in the dock confrontation was a spellcaster, they would never let it go easily.


    Smiling, the major penned another sentence: "Just in case, you should eat the rest of the paper as well."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the line that obliterates all traces¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Bard stared in surprise as Winters, having returned from the major''s side, was now gulping down the major''s wine. His eyes widened, and he asked Winters, "I thought you didn''t drink?"


    Warrant Officer Montaigne belched lengthily, and replied irritably: "I choked."


    "What does choking have to do with drinking wine?" Bard was confused.


    "To wash it down."


    "Wouldn''t water suffice?"


    "This wine eases my heart."

 Chapter 59: Chapter 31 Old Friend Arrives_3

    "Are you drunk?" Bard couldn''t help butugh and cry at these bizarre responses. He looked up at the other end of the cell and asked, "How is Major Moritz?"


    "Hmph, he''s just fine," Winters said with a tinge of annoyance. "He''s gone back to sleep."


    Bard was even more confused, "What''s wrong with you? You seem to have suddenly taken a strong dislike to the Major."


    Next to Bard, Andre slept soundly with his hat covering his face.


    "Stretching it." Winters pushed Bard and Andre aside and heroicallyy down on the ground: "Move your butt over and make some room for me too, I''m going to sleep for a bit as well."


    With the fullness from the nt fibers and the slight intoxication from the alcohol, Winters quickly entered a state between sleep and consciousness; he could still perceive the sounds around him, but his consciousness was almost in chaos, and soon he would fall into a deep sleep.


    At this critical moment, he heard someone shouting, "Which one is Winters Montagne? Who is Mr. Winters Montagne?"


    Winters jolted awake when he heard his name being called. He sat up straight, pped his head, and spent a few seconds trying to be fully alert.


    Once his brain started working again, Winters responded with a grumpy morning voice, "I''m Montagne, what is it?"


    "Pleasee out for a moment." The door of the cell creaked open, and the head of the cell, in a polite tone, said, "Someone wants to see you alone."


    At these words, Winters'' heart skipped a beat, then raced.


    His mind raced with thoughts, "They want to interrogate me alone? Did the customs people see what I just wrote? Has there been an informant? Are the customs really that sinister? Should I wake up the Major first?"


    His mind teemed with frantic spections, but on the surface, Winters still managed to appear calm. Like someone who had just awoken, hezily asked, "Who wants to see me? What is it for?"


    The cell head did not answer but kindly repeated, "Pleasee out for a moment; someone wants to see you alone."


    Winters thought to himself morosely, "It seems I can''t escape this ordeal today. How did customs find out what I wrote? Damn sinister!"


    But fortunately, the Major was foresighted; all the evidence had been destroyed. Winters made up his mind, either customs would have to cut open his and the Major''s stomachs, or he would stick to his story and refuse to admit anything.


    With a n in mind, Winters stood up withposure and straightened his clothes.


    Bard furrowed his brow and challenged the cell head, "What, are you going to torture him?"


    "He wouldn''t dare," Andre shouted as he sprang up from the ground, having not been asleep after all.


    The cell head, still without saying anything extra, simply lifted his arm and gestured for Winters to follow.


    Winters patted Bard and Andre''s shoulders to reassure them, loosened his cor, and with the eyes of hispatriots upon him, he walked out of the cell with a scoff.


    The silent cell head walked ahead to lead the way; each prison cell had twoyers of doors. Winters followed him through the double doors and entered a long corridor, with prison doors intermittently lining both walls.


    The prison of the Customs Office was a single-story standalone building, and therge cell where the warrant officers were ced was just one of the rooms used to confine prisoners guilty of minor offenses. The environment could be ranked among the top, so it was made avable to "invite" this group of army officers for a temporary stay.


    There were many more cells harsher than this, and customs filled them all up with people.


    The Customs Office was a significant source of revenue for the Republic, having been granted independent enforcement powers tobat smuggling by the Senate.


    Since transborder smuggling was essentially undermining the Customs Office''s authority, they took their anti-smuggling efforts very seriously¡ªso seriously that the Office had a special section ofnd designated for a prison built to detain the smugglers they caught.


    The hatred of a tax collector for a smuggler runs as deep into the bone as the hatred of a merchant for a tax collector.


    Winters followed the head of the prison ward through door after door, exiting through a small door at the end of the corridor and was led to the deeper parts of the prison.


    Until the head of the ward stopped in front of a small door and made a gesture inviting him into the trap.


    Winters felt a bit scared, but his expression betrayed no sign of panic. He secretly swallowed, pushing open the wooden door with disdain.


    Inside the room, there were none of the torture devices he had imagined, only a square table in the center with four chairs around it.


    Behind the square table sat a middle-aged man, toying with a small knife.


    This person was tall and thin, withrge bone structure and eyes, his dragon-like gaze was full of life, and his facial features were of noble appearance.


    Winters recognized this man, not only did Winters recognize him, but he also knew Winters, even when Winters was still an infant.


    Winters''s eyes widened, and his mouth gaped, he was just about to blurt out "Uncle" when he swallowed the word back down forcefully.


    But he still couldn''t suppress the surprise in his heart and called out another familiar title:


    "Colonel?!"


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the line that knows you are an old friend¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Excerpt from "Winters'' Spellbook: Speed Enhancement Spells"


    Spell Name: Wright''s Deviation Spell


    Description: An advanced version of the Arrow Flying Spell, it elerates objects like bullets and arrows through magic towards awful direction, causing them to deviate from their original trajectory.


    Difficulty: A (Extremely Difficult), to cast the spell precisely on high-speed moving objects in an instant, demanding high burst strength, precision, and casting range.


    Notes: Once this spell is mastered, projectiles will have difficulty prating (but it probably can''t guard against a stab in the back).


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Excerpt from "Winters'' Spellbook: Sound-Based Spells"


    Spell Name: Yvede''s Sonic st Spell


    Description: A more powerful version of the amplifying spell, it can scare enemies, shatter their eardrums, and disrupt their bnce.


    Difficulty: B (Difficult), requires the spellcasters to have extremely strong spell burst strength, otherwise, it is just akin to yelling; the spell''s power increases with the increase of spell burst strength.


    Notes: This spell really has more problems than solutions, if one cannot solve the technical challenge of "injuring the enemy a lot but oneself a little," then this spell will never truly be usable inbat.


    P.S. 1: Every spellcaster has their own spellbook for recording learned spells and their own original spells and includes somebat experience and insights;


    P.S. 2: If you have any rmendation tickets, could you please cast them for me? Thank you.

 Chapter 60: Chapter 32: Visit

    Chapter Continue:


    The middle-aged man waiting for Winters in this small room was none other than Winters''s uncle by marriage, the husband of Winters''s mother''s younger sister, a military academy ssmate who had been through life and death with Winters''s father, and Winters''s close kin¡ªAntonio Serviati.


    "How could customs possibly know everything!" Winters cheered in his head, originally thinking he would have to undergo some severe punishment, only to find out that it was just a "prison visit," making him overjoyed.


    The guard leader who had brought Winters here bowed respectfully and left the small room.


    The heavy wooden door screeched as it closed, leaving only the uncle and nephew alone in the room.


    Antonio walked over joyfully and hugged Winters tightly, ruffling his hair, and eximed with heartfelt emotion, "You rascal, look at you! You''ve truly grown into a man now! You''re the spitting image of your father when he was young. I almost thought the gods had taken me back twenty years, letting me see your father walk in through the door."


    The tone of Winters''s uncle was deep and mellow, filled with six parts joy and four parts sorrow.


    Winters felt sentimental and affected by his uncle''s emotions, but at the same time, the sudden disy of affection made his skin crawl.


    Six years of closed boarding school life had profoundly affected his personality; ssmates are not family, and men do not express emotion to each other in such an affectionate manner¡ªin fact, men hardly evermunicated emotions at all.


    Therefore, Winters, out of the Ivory Tower of the military academy, was very ufortable with such intimate bodynguage. In Antonio''s eyes, Winters was still the kid who pestered him to learn swordsmanship, but what Winters felt now was mostly embarrassment and helplessness.


    "How are Kosa and my sister? How are the Great General and the junior generals?" Winters hurriedly tried to escape his uncle''s "pincer attack" with words.


    "They are all fine, all missing you," Antonio let go of his arms, wiped his eyes with his palm, and took in a breath through his nose, seemingly not yet out of the emotional state, "Let''s sit down and talk."


    Antonio led Winters back to the table by his arm.


    No sooner had Winters''s bottom touched the chair than he eagerly asked in a low voice, "Does the military know we have been detained by customs?"


    Seeing Winters''s cautious appearance, Antonio couldn''t help but chuckle with a snort, "Of course they know. It''s not even ''the Pce''¡ªonce the docks make a noise, within two hours the whole of Sea Blue City knows. Now the rumors outside are overwhelming. The city is buzzing with tales of the Va Army smuggling goods, intercepted by customs resulting in a big fight, with some even saying that hundreds were killed. Everyone''s making it sound so believable."


    ''The Pce'' was a colloquial reference to the Va Army headquarters, which was built sovishly that the citizens mockinglypared it to a royal pce. Over time, ''the pce'' and ''the throne'' became nicknames for the army headquarters among the soldiers.


    "So is my uncle from the army here to get us out?" Winters, ted, thought it seemed they would be leaving this dreadful ce soon.


    Antonio smiled and gently shook his head, "No, I''m just visiting as a rtive right now."


    "Why?" Winters''s smile froze, utterly astonished, "If the army already knows we''re locked up, why don''t they send someone to get us out?"


    "Hmph, obviously because those fools at customs have made a big blunder." Antonio snorted with a blend of scorn and contempt in his smile, "Those customs bastards have their brains filled with mud, first detaining you all without exnation. Now they can''t admit their fault and still can''t let go of their pride, they actually want to have a joint meeting to ''request'' to take you all back from customs. Do you think ''The Throne'' would agree to that?"


    As the army headquarters was mockingly referred to as ''The Pce,'' the small conference room where the army''s highest authority, the senior officers'' joint meeting, took ce was naturally the room with the most power in the pce¡ªand so, the senior officers'' joint meeting also got dubbed ''The Throne.''


    "That''s shameless!" Winters was shocked and angry after learning about the custom authorities'' petty schemes, his eyes wide, nostrils ring violently, and he abruptly stood up, knocking the chair over.


    Winters, fuming with indignation, said, "What right do they have to do this? We were just implicated."


    "Don''t rush, don''t rush," Antonio pulled Winters to sit down, his tone light and cheerful, "Haha, you have just the same temper as your dad... Ah, as one gets older, one tends to reminisce about the past too often. Sit down and listen to me exin everything slowly."


    Winters knew he had been inappropriate for shouting at his uncle in a burst of anger, he smiled apologetically at him, and mentally chastised himself yet again to be more restrained and calm in the future, and he set the chair upright and sat down again.


    "Anyway, the situation is like this, customs has made a foolish mistake, but doesn''t want to lose face and expects us to clean up their mess, wanting The Throne to speak up first," Antonio spread his hands in a rxed gesture, dismissively saying, "It''s delusional¡ªthey think the army willpromise its dignity just to wipe customs'' ass? Now you''re stuck in the middle. But it''s no big deal, customs won''t dare do anything to you, they still have to coddle you."

 Chapter 61: Chapter 32 Visit_2

    "We''re hardly being catered to," Winters said with a wry smile. "We''ve all been thrown into cells, though at least the conditions are clean. However, there''s one severely injured person who I think would be better off if we could get him out for proper care."


    "Severely injured? Is it a cadet officer?"


    "No, it''s Major Moritz."


    "Moritz van Nassau?" Antonio''s eyebrows shot up, and a puzzled expression appeared on his face, clearly interested by the name Moritz.


    "I don''t know the Major''s full name," Winters shook his head. In the few short days they''d interacted, he only knew the Major as Moritz and was unaware of any other parts of his full name.


    "Hmm," Antonio stroked his chin with a tentative voice, "In the army, I''ve only heard of one person named Moritz,st year''s third ce in the army sports meeting swordsmanship event. They said he''s also a spellcaster, is that him?"


    Upon hearing his uncle''s description, Winters nodded, "A master of swordsmanship and a spellcaster, then we must be speaking of the same person."


    "A master of swordsmanship and a spellcaster," Antonio mused with surprise, "he alone could probably handle a fullpany of a hundred men. Just how many enemies did you encounter to injure such a character so severely?"


    "The Major''s main injury was from nearly drowning; he also burst his eardrums due to the impact of his own spells, which led to temporary deafness." Winters exined the cause of the Major''s injuries as straightforwardly as he could: "Additionally¡­"


    "Hold on a moment." Antonio stopped Winters and pulled out a small notebook from his pocket, then fetched ink and a quill pen from a cab in the corner of the room.


    Once he was ready to take notes, Antonio seriously said to his nephew, "That fool Layton sent back only bits and pieces of information, and the pce has received contradictory reports. Rumors are flying everywhere. Tell me exactly what happened at the harbor this afternoon from start to finish."


    Winters started from the moment their ship docked, recounting in detail to his uncle about the four passengers, the assassins, and the explosion. To avoid detracting from the main issue, he briefly mentioned the encounter with the pirates, and to prevent eavesdropping, he did not disclose the fact that among the four passengers was a spellcaster. After all, they were in the territory of the customs; who knew if there were pipes being used for ndestine listening?


    Antonio listened intently to Winters'' ount of his experiences with a grave face, his pupils involuntarily shrinking when he heard his nephew was nearly killed. But he remained silent throughout, nodding asionally and jotting down key points on paper.


    "That''s it," Winters concluded his recount of the assassination and explosion at the dock. He really wanted to speak to his uncle about the skirmish at sea and the great fire in Guidao City. He had many questions and hoped for his uncle''s wise counsel, but clearly, this was not the time.


    Chapter Read:


    Antonio pondered Winters'' story in his mind,ing to a conclusion.


    He rubbed his temples and said, "Then, this has absolutely nothing to do with the army! Our cadet officers happened to be involved only because they acted out of a sense of justice."


    "Exactly!" Winters pped the desk, but then he remembered the passenger who could use the Deflection Spell, quietly thinking to himself that it might have some connection to the army, but definitely none to the cadet officers.


    "What on earth is customs thinking? Instead of going after the assassins, they locked you all up," Antonio put away his notebook, "Don''t worry, if it''s unrted to us, then the customs can''t expect to pin this mess on the army''s head."


    Winters nodded emphatically, bolstered by his uncle''s stance.


    "Tell your peers not to worry; eat and drink as they usually would. Let''s see how long customs intends to keep you under house arrest," Antonio, full of confidence, imparted his strategy to Winters: "You are not criminals. Demand whatever you need, and if customs dares to withhold it, smash through this ce. They''re just a few guards; can''t you handle them?"


    Winters was about to remind his uncle that walls have ears, but then it dawned on him that perhaps his uncle was deliberately using this opportunity to apply pressure to customs. He thus yed along vigorously, agreeing with a series of "Yes."


    However, he was still worried about Major Moritz and asked in a low voice, "What about Major Moritz? He would be best cared for in a tranquil ce."


    Antonio thought for a moment and then answered slowly, "Moritz cannot leave just yet. The Throne won''t ask for him proactively; I will have customs arrange for a doctor to treat Moritz."


    He then added with a smile, "Rest assured, it''s customs who should be praying for Major Moritz''s health now, praying that he doesn''t die in their cells. If something happens to Moritz, the customs headquarters will get to see what the army''s cannons look like."


    Winters nodded vigorously once more; whether anyone from customs was eavesdropping or not, Antonio''s threat was no idle one.


    The Sea Blue Republic''s various power institutions all have strong independence.


    To be precise, it isn''t that the government oversees various departments of power, but rather that these departments of powerpose the government of the Sea Blue Republic.


    Therefore, it''s not umon for these powerful institutions to engage in armed shes over irreconcble differences.


    While to date there hasn''t been any use of firearms, it''s not unimaginable for the army, if pushed too far, to wheel out their cannons and give their brethren a taste of "grapeshot''s breezy touch."

 Chapter 62: Chapter 32 Visit_3

    As for the neighboring Federated Provinces and the Republic, the situation there was even worse. So much so that Va philosophers like Conte once sarcasticallymented, "The Provincial Army is not the military of the Federated Provinces; the Federated Provinces is the nation of the Provincial Army."


    As the first regime to overthrow the emperor and aristocracy on this continent after the ancient Muro Republic, each member state of the Federated Provinces was still groping its way in constructing a political system for the post-Imperial Era. To this day, none had been able to satisfactorily answer the simple yet troublesome question, "What do we do without an emperor?"


    "Oh, and there''s this." Antonio pulled out a small basket covered with a white cloth from under the table and pushed it towards Winters with a smile, "Take a guess, what''s it?"


    Winters leaned in to take a deep whiff and said happily, "Actually, I smelled the aroma when I entered the room, I just never got around to asking."


    He lifted the white cloth and inside were neatly arranged rows of small pies, with anotheryer of white cloth beneath. Judging by its thickness, there seemed to be a total of threeyers in the basket.


    These pies had a unique shape, rolled up from inside out into chubby cylinders. Rather than calling it a pie, it was more like a rolled pastry.


    The dough was made from the precious refined white flour, and the meat filling was seasoned beef. It required rolling the white dough thinly, evenly spreading the beef filling, rolling it into a long strip, steaming it until done, and then cutting it into small sections.


    The ratio of white flour to water, the force used in kneading, the preciseness of fermentation, the seasoning of the meat filling¡ªany slight misstep in these procedures could make a significant difference in the final product''s taste.


    This "dessert" was a recipe from Winters'' mother''s family, now the unique skill of Winters'' aunt. Winters would confidently im that in Va, this was the only ce you could find it, with no other branches.


    Food is the deepest bond to one''s hometown, and one''s pte has profound connections to their life experiences.


    Winters didn''t care about hygiene, directly grabbing a whole piece and putting it into his mouth. With a moderate salty taste, rich and juicy meat filling, and a properly fermented crust... The familiar vor finally gave him the true sensation ofing home. Before he could savor it enough, the pie was already gone.


    "I heard yesterday that the ship you came on had already reached the outer harbor. Early this morning, Kosa started preparing this in the kitchen for you," Antonio said affectionately, watching his nephew eat greedily with both hands. "I didn''t expect such an incident... When I heard I wasing to visit you, she insisted I bring it over. Hey, this really turned into a prison visit."


    After eating a few, Winters thought of Bard, Andre, and the others from his same period, so he put the pie he was holding back.


    Seeing his nephew stop, Antonio asked in puzzlement, "What''s wrong? Has it gone bad?"


    Antonio knew his nephew''s capacity; just six years ago when Winters was in Shanqian, he could eat two catties of such pies in one go. Let loose, this whole basket wouldn''t be enough to fill him.


    "No, I want to save them to take back for my friends to try," Winters said carefully as he covered the basket again with the white cloth, tucking in the corners.


    Antonio inspected his nephew''s eyebrows, eyes, nose, and jawline carefully, then chuckled, "You''ve grown up so much now. I still remember when you were a kid, you and your sister would fight over these pies¡­"


    As his embarrassing past was exposed, Winters'' cheeks flushed, and he hurriedly stopped his uncle from disclosing more old stories, "Let''s not talk about that. I was wrong back then, and I have deeply reflected on it."


    Antonioughed heartily, finding joy as middle-aged people often did in revisiting children''s embarrassing histories. But then he suddenly became serious, gazing directly into Winters'' eyes.


    Winters sensed the shift in the atmosphere and listened attentively.


    Antonio asked his nephew earnestly, "Do you want to leave this ce now?"


    Upon hearing Antonio''s words, Winters'' first reaction was confusion. Then he realized his uncle wasn''t joking¡ªAntonio definitely had a way to help him leave the prison right now if he wished to.


    Winters asked himself: Did I want to leave that prison cell?


    The answer, of course, was yes. No matter how good the prison environment, it was still a prison: low, damp, crowded, with a floor full of pits and uneven mortar, not even afortable ce to lie down.


    There was also no way to pass the time in the cell, one could only sit withered in the prison room, where every second felt as long as a century.


    But, if I were to leave that cell, it definitely wouldn''t be alone. Everyone else was in prison too, what would it look like if I ran off by myself? If I were to leave, I must leave with everyone.


    Having realized this, Winters shook his head: "When everyone leaves, I will go out too."


    Antonio watched Winters''s eyes, then suddenly burst intoughter, "Good! Such is the spirit befitting of the son of vis!"


    Antonio forcefully rang the bell on the table and leaned back heroically in his chair.


    Before long, a middle-aged man dressed in a silk customs official''s uniform came through the door. The customs bureaucrat had a radiant smile on his face as he stood beside Antonio, rubbing his hands and asking in a low and obsequious voice, "General Serviati, have you finished talking with your nephew?"


    Antonio also smiled, saying, "We''ve finished. There''s something I really must ask of you."


    "Of course, of course," the customs official nodded eagerly.


    "This matter is truly embarrassing to bring up." Major General Antonio Selviati''s smile was now warm enough to melt ice caps, "My wife has only this precious nephew, spoiled beyond belief. We''ve heard about the hardships this child faces in the customs prison, it''s been causing quite a fuss at home..."


    "Rest assured, as an esteemed Corps Commanding General personally guarantees him, I will certainly honor this request. I''ll exin to the director and chief - you can take your nephew with you right now," the customs official quickly ascended thedder of the conversation.


    "That would be really wonderful..." Major General Antonio''s expression suddenly changed, and he abruptly turned his tone, "But I have found that the environment of the customs prison is very helpful for young men to temper their minds, Ensign Winters!"


    "Present!"


    "I order you to stay in the customs prison! Without orders from the Army Department, even if customs asks you to leave, you are not to leave!"


    "Yes!"


    The customs official, thinking he had solved a thorny problem for his senior leader, was now dumbstruck, but Major General Antonio did not let him off that easily.


    He grabbed the cor of the customs uniform, dragging the customs official closer, and with a fierce and terrifying voice said, "Listen well to what I''m about to request! Go back and tell that old coot Hurd, the army will ''snatch'' people back, but absolutely will not ept them back passively. If this matter isn''t settled to our satisfaction, I''ll lead my troops and tear down your customs headquarters!"


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªHere''s the divider line for the old coot¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    In fact, I think fermented food is the type of food that best reflects the influence of life experiences on personal dietary preferences. It''s hard for adults to get used to unfamiliar fermented foods they didn''t eat as children, because many fermented foods basically just taste like decay, such as the infamous pickled auk.


    Thanks to "Old Wang of Social Justice" for the rmendation ticket.


    I used to give myself a rmendation ticket every day, but I always felt that voting for myself was a bit too shameful; rmendation tickets should be praise from the readers, not self-ttery by the author. So, I might as well ask for tickets from all you readers. If you have a rmendation ticket, please cast it for me, bowing in gratitude.

 Chapter 63: Chapter 33 Treatment

    The cell was the same as before, but the environment had slightly improved.


    The guards brought in a lot of wheat straw and hay, covering the uneven mortar floor.


    The cell door wasn''t locked anymore, allowing the warrant officers to freely use the guard''s toilet, instead of having to use a bucket in the cell.


    The message conveyed by Major General Antonio bolstered the warrant officers'' confidence. As he had said, Customs now found itself in a difficult position, not daring to mistreat these army officers, and even trying to amodate the warrant officers'' demands as much as possible.


    Inside the cell, Winters and his peers were eagerly watching a famous doctor, invited by Customs, diagnose and treat Major Moritz.


    "Don''t all crowd over!" The old doctor red fiercely at the warrant officers and scolded harshly, "With so many of you crowding around, it''s dark and nothing can be seen clearly, move aside! Let some air in!"


    This old doctor wore a monk-style robe made of fine silk satin. He sported a handsome goatee and his tone of rebuke was very much like that of a high-ranking officermanding and full of presence, clearly a man of great skill.


    Upon hearing his words, the warrant officers immediately took several steps back obediently to make space, and to avoid blocking the light, they all sat down on the ground. However, they still couldn''t suppress their curiosity and craned their necks to watch.


    The warrant officers left the best spot for venttion and lighting in the cell for Major Moritz, whoy on the only straw mattress in the cell. However, regardless of the improvements, the location was still a prison, not a sanatorium, and the doctor clearly was dissatisfied with the environment.


    The doctor, reputedly hired by the Smuggling Division of Sea Blue City at great expense, ced his right hand on Major Moritz''s wrist, twirled his beard with his left, and lowered his eyelids, deep in thought.


    "What''s he doing?" Winters gently nudged Bard''s leg and whispered.


    Bard narrowed his eyes and thought for a while, "He may be feeling the pulse? Diagnosing illness by sensing the heartbeat. I''ve read about this diagnostic method before, I think it was in ''The Canon of Medicine''?" Bard shook his head, "I can''t remember clearly."


    "Medicine box!" The doctor''s eyes sparkled suddenly, and he transformed back into a live person, evidently having reached a conclusion, "Bring the medicine box."


    The assistant who came with him hurriedly took off the wood medicine box slung across his body and respectfully handed it over to the doctor with both hands.


    The mood of the warrant officers was instantly energized, and the atmosphere in the cell began to get agitated.


    They were simply too bored¡ªa group of lively and restless young men confined without any form of entertainment; even a wooden stick could amuse them for half a day.


    The doctor took off a key that hung around his neck with a thin rope, and with a click, unlocked the golden lock of the wooden box. Although the box was small, inside was an entirely different world; as the lid was lifted, the whole box slowly unfolded like flower petals.


    The warrant officers sitting on the ground all issued sounds of admiration in unison.


    A hint of imperceptible smugness appeared at the corners of the old doctor''s mouth. In Sea Blue City, whether it was nobles and high officials or wealthy merchants and magnates, all were amazed by his meticulously crafted medicine box.


    Winters watched the renowned doctor open his exquisite medicine box and then take from one of thepartments... a knife.


    Wait, a knife?


    Winters'' previously excited smile froze as he watched in horror as the old doctor grabbed the major''s hand with his left and lifted the knife with his right as if to cut the major''s wrist.


    Several gasps were heard throughout the cell.


    "Wait a minute!" Winters yelled anxiously, leaping to the major''s side, grabbed the doctor''s wrist firmly, twisting it and snatching the knife away, and demanded sternly, "What are you doing?"


    The doctor''s assistant, seeing his teacher struck, quickly moved to engage with Winters, but he barely lifted his arm before he was pulled down and subdued by Winters'' peers.


    The doctor himself was nearly scared to death by Winters, already in his fifties or sixties, his old arms and legs couldn''t withstand such force, and his wrist was almost twisted off by Winters; he trembled as he retorted, "What, what, what are you doing?"


    Winters was both angry and amused as he gestured with the knife in his hand, "I''m asking what you''re doing with this."


    The old gentleman recovered a bit of hisposure and angrily responded, "It was you who asked me to treat this gentleman."


    "Yes, that''s right, but what are you doing taking out a knife?"


    The doctor, shaken by Winters'' insistent references to the knife, scoffed back, "I''m treating this gentleman; do I need to exin to you?"


    "If you''re willing to exin, of course, I''m very keen to listen," Winters challenged evenly.


    "Hahaha." The doctorughed in irritation at Winters, "Have you read ''The Medical Writings of Muro''?"


    "I haven''t."


    "Have you read ''Aphorisms of Kradi''?"


    "I haven''t."


    "Have you read ''On Water, Air, Fire, Earth''? Have you read ''On Trauma''? Have you read ''The Heidegger Notes''?"


    "I haven''t."


    "Then do you understand the theory of humors?"


    "I don''t."


    The doctor became furious, "Then what do you want? You don''t understand anything, yet demand exnations from me?"


    Winters was also angry, "You wanted to cut the major''s wrist with a knife, and I will not allow it!"


    "What do you know?" The doctor pointed at Winters'' nose and rebuked, "This gentleman has drunk too much seawater after nearly drowning, resulting in an imbnce in bodily fluids and toxic blood umting in his liver. The liver and the right arm are interrted; it''s necessary to let out the toxic blood from his right arm!"

 Chapter 64: Chapter 33 Treatment_2

    "I''ve only heard of soldiers bleeding to death on the battlefield, never of bloodletting as a way to save people!"


    "Nonsense! Where did you learn your medical skills to be so presumptuous in front of me?" the old man blew his beard and red.


    Winters replied coldly, "The Army Officer Academy!"


    "Isn''t the Army Officer Academy meant for teaching how to kill? Since when is it qualified to teach medicine?"


    "The military academy doesn''t teach medicine, but I learned a bit in hygiene ss¡ªif there''s a wound bleeding, you need to find a way to stop it, but no one ever taught me to draw blood deliberately when there''s no external injury!"


    "Can external bleeding and internal toxin umtion be considered the same?"


    "I don''t care! The major is very weak now, and I absolutely can''t agree to you bloodletting him. Is that the only treatment you have?" Winters didn''t bother arguing with the doctor and firmly refused to allow the bloodletting of the major. All of Winters'' medical knowledge came from the hygiene courses at the military academy, which in turn originated from practical experiences summed up during the Sovereign Wars.


    The old man was so infuriated by Winters that he was almost having a stroke, and he bellowed resentfully, "You won''t let me bleed him, then I won''t treat him at all! If this gentleman''s condition worsens, it will be your responsibility! Don''te looking for me!"


    With that, he snatched his knife back from Winters, hurled it into his medicine box, mmed the wooden case shut, and stormed off angrily.


    His assistant cast a hateful nce around the cell and then sullenly followed the old man.


    Having driven the doctor away, Winters actually felt a bit guilty, but he believed he wasn''t wrong this time.


    He said helplessly to his ssmates sitting on the ground, watching him, "Can bloodletting even be called a treatment method? It really could kill the major."


    "Good job!" Andre cheered loudly and started pping vigorously, "I''ve always found that old pretender annoying!" The others joined in the apuse, and sporadic ps echoed within the cell.


    Winters nodded in gratitude to Andre, now finding an endearing quality in Andre''s character. The guy had no real sense of right and wrong¡ªor rather, his sense of right and wrong could be summed up in five words: stand by your own. His own people were always right, the enemies always wrong.


    The major couldn''t hear anything, but he saw the doctor and Winters seemed to have started arguing, his assistant was held down on the ground by the other warrant officers, and then the doctor left in a huff.


    He picked up a quill pen and wrote on a piece of paper, passing it to Winters: What happened?


    Winters smiled bitterly and wrote back: That doctor just now said that toxins are umting in your blood, in your liver, and wanted to bleed you from the arm. I didn''t agree, so he left.


    After reading this, the major nodded and wrote: It''s normal, the world doesn''t recognize our medical experience, thinking we are just a bunch of executioners, while we merely sum up patterns in practice. Thank you, you did right by not allowing him to use bloodletting.


    Getting the major''s understanding was a big relief for Winters. What he feared most was that the major himself would support bloodletting, which would make his own rush to prevent the doctor turn into a farce.


    Suddenly remembering that the major hadn''t properly eaten ever since, Winters wrote: Do you want to eat something?


    The major shook his head; he had no appetite. Most of the time now, the major was in a sleep state, eager for news updates, and he picked up the pen to write: Any new developments at the customs?


    Winters replied: None at the moment, but the attitude there has softened a lot.


    Looking at Major Moritz''s face, which had be slightly sunken, Winters suddenly remembered the scene at the dock when he had shouted to the major to aim at the opponent''s head, yet the major still fired at the opponent''s chest armor. It seemedical in retrospect.


    So, Winters wrote with a smile on the paper: If you had aimed at those assassins'' heads back then, it would be the customs awarding us medals now.


    When the major used the Arrow Flying Spell, Winters heard a teeth-gritting sound of metal deformation as silver coins collided with armor; the assassins were even forced to retreat repeatedly to offset the impact.


    Such power wasn''t inferior to arrows shot from a bow of over a hundred pounds. The assassins weren''t wearing helmets, so a hit to the head would certainly be fatal.


    Major Moritz wrote with a resigned smile: Hands were shaking, couldn''t aim, so I aimed for the torso instead.


    Winters didn''t understand the major''s meaning at a nce, but when he recalled the major''s condition before disembarking, he immediately understood.


    Based on Winters'' current understanding of magic, the Arrow Flying Spell essentially involved elerating an object as much as possible within one''s spell-casting range, in essence, like throwing darts with a "third hand"; uracy was all about "feel."


    The major''s spellcasting material for releasing the Arrow Flying Spell was a silver coin he constantly fiddled with, leading Winters to conjecture that the major constantly practiced coin tricks to maintain his feel for the spell.


    However, during thest days on the Bandit Gull, Major Moritz''s hands shook uncontrobly due to alcohol withdrawal symptoms. He couldn''t even perform coin tricks, let alone expect any uracy from the Arrow Fying Spell.


    General Antoine-Laurent believed that Spellcasters shouldn''t use any addictive substances, as they could destroy their precious magical abilities.


    Winters had previously blindly followed the general''s teachings to abstain from drinking and smoking, but now the way Major Moritz''s magical abilities had suffered due to his heavy drinking was a real lesson for Winters.


    Winters really wanted to urge Major Moritz to give up drinking for good; he dreamt of bing a powerful Spellcaster like the major.

 Chapter 65: Chapter 33 Treatment_3

    A spellcaster attuned to such high levels of magic yet addicted to alcohol was like someone trampling on Winters'' most treasured possessions, a piercing irony indeed.


    But he was well aware that unsolicited advice was a big taboo. Drunkenness was the major''s personal choice, and he had neither the position nor the right to say those ''I''m only saying this for your good'' kind of words.


    Seeing Major Moritz begin to grow tired, Winters helped the major lie down and watched as he fell back into a deep sleep.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    At the same time as Major Moritz slipped into dreams, still within the Customs Administration office, still in Hurd''s office, the same few people, the same stifling atmosphere persisted.


    The directors of Customs were still just burying their heads in smoke, and this time, Hurd joined the ranks of the haze creators.


    The situation now was: everyone from the top to the bottom of Customs knew that these army officer trainees were innocent and had to be let go, but no one dared to be the first to propose it.


    Whomever broached this solution, the customs leadership would immediately take the out offered, agree amicably, with a big fuss, see off this gue of the Va Army.


    But the person who proposed the solution would bebeled as groveling to the Army, a disgrace to the customs'' dignity. Thisbel would be mentioned over and over again inter internal criticism, and the branded person would be stepped on by ten thousand feet.


    The directors thought Hurd was waiting for his subordinates to step up and ease the leader''s worries, the directors were waiting for Hurd to disy his leadership qualities and take the thunder for his subordinates.


    Meanwhile, the two chief regiments of the Va Standing Army were ready and waiting outside the city, awaiting the Throne''smand to move out and snatch the people.


    It was still the Director of Smuggling Prevention who first spoke up: "We can''t just fall out with the Army over such a trivial matter."


    Expressing weakness didn''t mean he was a defeatist at heart.


    "Afraid of what? Let theme! Who are they trying to scare with their big guns? As if we don''t have big guns ourselves," the Tax Director roared as if spoiling for a fight.


    The one starting with a high pitch wasn''t necessarily a true hardliner.


    "Can''t make up your mind? Let''s do a minority obeys the majority, how about an anonymous collective vote among the directors and above?"


    Oh? Here was someone wanting a piece of the pie, attempting to overthrow the top administrator.


    Hurd sat behind his desk, calmly enjoying his tobo.


    At fifty-eight, he was considered on in years for this time and age.


    His thoughts were no longer sharp, his body no longer nimble, his temples were grizzled, and his cheeks began to show age spots.


    But his mind was as clear as a mirror. He sat on the chief customs officer''s chair, seeing through everyone''s petty schemes with utmost rity.


    What was it to falsely capture a few army warrant officers? It was just that they saw he was about to retire, and so even the smallest of issues could make all hell break loose.


    He had long had his decision in mind, he just wanted to calmly finish his tobo pipe while assessing what his subordinates were really worth.


    The next customs chief administrator, barring any ident, would be chosen by the fifteen-member financemittee from the current directors.


    Hurd had to ensure that the ce where he had devoted his life''s work, the Va Republic Customs, would fall into the right hands.


    "I''ll handle it." This was a voice rarely heard at director meetings, forthright and calm.


    Hurd gently tapped the tobo ash out of the pipe bowl.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the helmet-wearing dividing line¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Winters had acted as a "medical troublemaker," but this was by no means an encouragement for the readers topete in medical knowledge against the doctors in the real world. It''s just that in the alternate world where Winters was,pared to some doctors, barbers who treated wounded soldiers were closer to the truth, because practice is the only criterion for testing truth.


    Furthermore, it may be hard to believe, but prior to the formation of modern medicine, ancient European physicians also used herbal remedies and pulse diagnosis techniques.


    Herbs need no further mention, most of which were used by monks in monasteries and recorded by them.


    As for pulse diagnosis, the first chapter of Italian Benvenuto Cellini''s "Autobiography" mentions his father knowing some Latin and a little bit of medicine, diagnosing his pulse when he was sick, and even using it to assess his moods.


    However, whether this technique was introduced to the Latin region from the Arab region, or if it was a long-standing diagnostic method of the Latin people, is something I don''t know.


    P.S. Thanks to Break-arm Stream and Social Justice Wang for their rmendation tickets, and thanks to Old Wang for his reward. It really pleases me that living people read the stories I write.

 Chapter 66: Chapter 34: Arriving Home

    Later that evening, after infuriating the doctor, Winters inexplicably received a small bag jingling with reward coins from the smiling customs boss and a Customs Third-ss Service Medal was pinned to his chest.


    Amid the discordant march yed by the makeshift orchestra, Winters and Bard carried Major Moritz on a stretcher as they were escorted out of the smugglers'' prison.


    The heavy prison gate closed with a resounding "bang" behind them, leaving thirty-three warrant officers and one seriously injured major dumped at the prison entrance.


    Is that it, then? Is the matter resolved?


    Where are we supposed to go now?


    What about Major General Layton?


    The officer trainees looked at each other, at a loss.


    "Anyhow, let''s get some wagons first! We need to get the major back to the army headquarters," Winters proposed loudly. It was better to act than to stand around idly; they certainly couldn''t take turns carrying the major all the way back to the army headquarters, could they?


    His contemporaries apparently found his proposal sensible. With someone willing to lead, things became easier. Several proactive individuals immediately went to look for wagons.


    "Hey! Why did that scoundrel from the customs give us money?" Andre pped his thigh hard, "I get it, it''s taxi fare they''ve given us!"


    The smugglers'' office was quite secluded, unlike the docks where coachmen were always waiting to be hailed. The warrant officers finally managed to stop two proper passenger carriages and also acquired two mule-drawn carts and a donkey cart for hauling hay from nearby farms.


    But when it came time to assign seats, no one wanted to sit in the donkey cart. The mule carts at least had a small cabin; the donkey cart was nothing more than a wooden board with two wheels and no shelter.


    After all, they were all officers; you can''t treat warrant officers as if they''re not cadre. It would be utterly embarrassing to ride in such a petty donkey cart.


    "Alright, folks, stop dawdling," Winters said helplessly: "I''ll take the major in the donkey cart since the stretcher won''t fit in the wagons anyway."


    The warrant officers, in high spirits, rushed to im their seats, while Major Moritz, still groggy and unaware, was settled quite clearly by Winters and then somewhat confusedly hoisted onto the donkey cart. Bard also got on.


    "You might as well take the wagon too; this donkey cart really is beneath you." Deep down, Winters felt the same shame as his peers at the thought of riding in the donkey cart.


    But he had opened his mouth to suggest finding transport, and now he''d have to swallow the consequences.


    "I''m from The Federated Provinces," Bardughed heartily: "This isn''t my hometown, and nobody in Sea Blue City knows me."


    "Ah," Winters sighed deeply: "But this is my hometown."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ªSeparator¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The guards outside the Va Army headquarters watched as five animal-drawn vehicles, fourrge and one small, pulled up at the militarypound''s entrance. As they were about to step forward to reprimand these clueless country bumpkin drivers, they saw a swarm of young men in uniform miraculously emerging from the carriages one after another.


    In this era, shoulder and arm badges hadn''t been invented yet, and the way to distinguish between soldiers and officers was to look at the cut of their clothes, while distinguishing higher-ranking officers involved checking the material and adornments of the uniform.


    Thus, although the army officer trainees were in their summer uniforms, their cut was unmistakably that of an officer''s uniform, and the guards at army headquarters, well-versed and knowledgeable, would certainly not misidentify them.


    A few guards didn''t dare to neglect them and immediately sent one of their numbers to report to the headquarters building.


    The sudden return of these junior cadets threw the army headquarters into disarray. Everyone had vaguely felt that this matter wouldn''t end amicably and feared that it would ultimately lead to a major conflict, with some of the morebative already secretly preparing for a fight.


    No one expected the customs to change their tune so quickly, releasing everyone just like that. The practical and face-saving resolution from the customs caught everyone at the Va Army headquarters by surprise.


    However, the efficiency of the army officers was high, and they managed the unexpected event swiftly and appropriately.


    Major Moritz was taken into the care of the medical staff.


    The warrant officers were escorted toplete their reporting process and were registered.


    After reporting, the warrant officers were divided into two groups. Those whose homes were not in Sea Blue City were taken to the officers'' club for amodation, while those from Sea Blue City went home to their respective families afterpleting the reporting process.


    Winters and Bard temporarily parted ways as Bard was housed in the officers'' club. At the fourth intersection after leaving the army headquarters, Winters and Andre also temporarily bid farewell, each making their way home.


    Six years had passed, and the city had undergone great changes. The old uneven streets were now paved with new stone, and many of the shopfronts and buildings from his memory had changed signs, but there were still a few unchangedndmarks to guide him.


    Guided by memory, Winters found his way home.


    When he opened the courtyard gate and stood before the familiar, beautiful, two-story stone house, he suddenly felt an inexplicable panic.


    He took a deep breath and knocked on the door knocker.


    "Who is it?" A crisp female voice called from inside the house.


    Though the voice sounded different, Winters recognized it. A smile spread across his face, "It''s me."


    The door cracked open, and a small head peeked out. A pair ofrge eyes, very much like his uncle''s, blinked at him: "Brother! You''re back!"


    The door was flung open, and the young girl rushed out, clinging to Winters''s neck, shouting back into the house, "Mom! Brother''s back!"

 Chapter 67: Chapter 34 Arriving Home_2

    Winters once again felt startled by this unexpected affectionate gesture, and, being awkward and unsure of how to respond, he simply gently rubbed the girl''s hair.


    "Ouch, let go of him, let your brother get into the house," a woman in her thirties with high cheekbones, ck phoenix eyebrows, and a dignified and graceful demeanor hurried out and pulled the girl from Winters''s neck.


    However, she herself couldn''t help but shed tears, stretching out her arms to tightly embrace her precious nephew.


    She grabbed Winters''s shoulders and pushed him away, taking two seconds to examine him carefully. Then, pulling Winters close again, she kissed his cheeks. Her crying became more intense; she could hardly speak clearly, only murmuring over and over, "You''re back, you''re finally back."


    Now, Winters felt like a doll being yfully manipted, being moved around at will, and he responded with a grin, "Auntie, I''m back."


    For most people, family members are a gender-neutral presence, rarely described in terms of beauty or ugliness. Although handsome men and beautiful women might attract stares on the street, people seldom examine the faces of their rtives closely.


    Even from the everyday proximity to their rtives, they be too familiar yet too strange, their faces fixed in one''s mind, but many people would struggle to urately describe them.


    So Winters did not measure these two women by the standards of beauty or ugliness. Although he was feeling out of his element, this was just the normal reaction of an adult being treated like a child. He simply felt veryfortable by their side.


    "Mom, let go, let my brothere inside," the girl grudgingly pulled her mother''s arm, rescuing Winters from his auntie''s death grip hug.


    "Right, right, right, look at me," Winters''s auntie wiped her tears,ughing as she offered to help Winters with his luggage.


    Of course, Winters couldn''t let the women carry his belongings. His auntie didn''t insist, leading Winters inside instead. The girl wrapped her arm around Winters''s left arm and clung to him once more.


    The older woman was Kasha Serviati, Winters''s aunt, and the girl was his cousin, Elizabeth Selvidi. They named their daughter after Winters''s mother using her name.


    After entering the house, Winters saw a sturdy ginger cat walking out from the sitting room.


    In Sea Blue, the climate is warm, and to facilitate heat dispersal, cats tend to be on the smaller side. But this orange cat had a robust bone structure, thick shoulders and legs, and a stocky build, quite different from the local felines.


    The cat strutted out with its tail held high, the tip bent into a hook, and with a proud look, it walked to Winters''s feet, unabashedly rubbing his cheeks against Winters''s trouser legs, purring loudly.


    "Great General!" Winters scratched the top of the cat''s head and stroked its back. Just as he was about to reach for the excess flesh on its belly, the cat coldly shook its head and walked away with a swagger.


    "The Great General still recognizes me," Winters said, undeterred by the cat''s disdain, happily sharing with his aunt and cousin.


    "How could it not recognize you?"


    "And where''s the little General?"


    After entering and passing through a short corridor, turning right would take them into the sitting room. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. As soon as Winters sat down in the sitting room, a tabby cat that was smaller than the previous ginger cat came running out, meowing "mie mie."


    "Little General!"


    The tabby cat jumped right onto Winters, its ws piercing through his clothes and making him gasp from the pain. Winters hastily grabbed the Little General with his right hand to prevent it from scratching him and possibly drawing blood.


    The Little General meowed and rubbed its cheeks against Winters''s cor, licking his chin with its barbed tongue, which Winters found quite painful.


    "Haha, why is the Little General so enthusiastic?" Winters looked helplessly at his aunt and said, "But you really should trim its ws."


    "He''s missed you so much," his aunt answered affectionately.


    "Get off me," the girl said bluntly, grabbing the tabby by the scruff of its neck and setting it down on the floor.


    However, the tabby was relentless, circling around Winters''s feet and meowing nonstop, like a chatterbox. It didn''t meow like other cats but made a short "mie" sound instead.


    "Look at you, look at you, really turning into a strapping young man," Kasha said, sitting to Winters''s right, holding his right hand and speaking with a wealth of emotion, "These eyebrows and eyes really bear a resemnce to your mother. Elizabeth would have been so happy to see you all grown up."


    This was already the second time since Winters had gotten home that he''d been told he looked like someone else. Do rtives all have a different take on resemnce?


    Winters wasn''t as sentimental as his aunt. He replied with a smile, "Really? The Colonel said I look like my father."


    "Hmph!" Kasha red and raised her eyebrows, "How could that be? Look at this nose, these hair, these eyes, you''ve got the Granashi bloodline. I''ll find your grandfather''s portrait for you, you look just like him when he was young. The Colonel is just talking nonsense! Wait until he gets home tonight, I''ll have to deal with him properly."


    The Colonel is the home nickname for Major General Antonio Serviati, because once during an argument with his wife, he retorted in frustration, "I''m at least a Colonel, and you should give me some respect," and it stuck.

 Chapter 68: Chapter 34 Arriving Home_3

    From then on, Kelsa called her husband a lieutenant colonel and even forced her nephew and daughter to do the same, so that when Winters met his uncle at the customs prison, he subconsciously called out "Lieutenant Colonel."


    "E, take your brother to drop off the luggage first." Kelsa remembered that Winters had just returned home and asked with concern, "Are you hungry? You must not have had much to eat at customs. I''ll cook something for you."


    As she spoke, she stood up and walked towards the kitchen.


    "No need, Auntie," Winters hurriedly stopped his aunt. "I''m not hungry, I''m just a bit tired and would like to sleep for a while."


    "How can you not eat? I''ll make some snacks¡ªquickly," Kelsa said, ignoring Winters''s opinion as she walked towards the kitchen.


    In the military academy, Winters was the junior ss leader; in front of soldiers and civilians, he was an officer; on the Bandit Gull, he was a warrior daring to jump ship; among his peers in Va, he was vaguely seen as a leader.


    But at home, his family status was still that of a child, slightly higher than his sister and the little general, but much lower than the Great General. So, he could only watch helplessly as his aunt walked through the service door towards the kitchen.


    "Brother, let me take you to your room," the young girl pulled Winters up from the soft chair in the living room. "After you left, Mom had the servants clean it every day¡ªit''s even cleaner than before you went to school."


    Leaving the living room and crossing another corridor, they went upstairs. With a smile, Elizabeth pushed open that familiar door, and memories, long sealed, tumbled out as the door swung open.


    There was a charred mark on the wooden floor where Winters had burned it ying with fire as a child. Therge and small wooden swords he used to learn swordsmanship with his uncle still leaned in a corner, above which hung a dartboard. The bed was covered with a clean white sheet, the desk polished spotless,


    "See? Isn''t it cleaner than when you were here? I''m the one who checks it every day," Elizabeth said proudly. But Winters was immersed in memories and heard nothing.


    Gently touching these familiar old objects, Winters finally opened the wardrobe.


    He had merely opened it casually, wanting to see if the clothes he used to wear were still there. But to his surprise, five or six new outfits, all adult-sized, hung neatly inside.


    "These were all made by your aunt," Elizabeth''s voice came from behind. Sheined to Winters, "You wouldn''t send back your measurements despite your aunt asking you to, so she had to guess the size. After you left, she made new ones every year, only to throw them away. She would never dare to send them to you, and just put them here, worried you mighte home with no clothes to wear."


    "I could only wear the cadet uniform at the academy, so sending back my measurements would have been pointless. The three cadet uniforms I had were enough," Winters said, feeling a warm current in his heart. He gently closed the wardrobe door and smilingly said to his sister, "It''s about you, though. Do we still have home tutors?"


    The young girl stuck out her tongue, "I''ve grown past the age of needing home tutors. I''m now learning painting with Madam Anguis."


    "Learning to paint?"


    "Yes. Yup, the lieutenant colonel just can''t stand to see me idle and has to find things for me to do. Now, Mom sighs every day, pondering how to get me married off."


    Wintersughed heartily upon hearing this: "After all, you are a growndy now."


    "But I''m not worried," Elizabeth said with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous smile. "With you taking the brunt, as long as you''re not married, the biggest pressure is not on me."


    The sharp retort from the young girl instantly extinguished Winters''s mirth. Sheepishly, he ced his luggage on the table and began emptying it out, item by item.


    First came some everyday items. Then the more valuable ones: his spellbook, some spellcasting materials he''d sneaked out from his magic ss, his handwritten manuscripts from the military academy, ss notes, and a few genuine printed books.


    To digress for a moment, printing technology had been in Va for over a decade, but Winters, like the clergymen in the old church schools, still mainly used manuscripts and copied books himself. Even printed books, which utilized the printing process, were very expensive and mainly used for printing scripture which was always in demand.


    However,pared to past times, this was a significant stride forward, mostly because advances in papermaking improved the quality of paper while lowering its cost. In the past, theologians and priests would rent books page by page¡ªnote, rent, not buy¡ªas a single book could cost as much as a craftsman''s entire annual ie. Hence, not only was it expensive to be a priest, but attending a theological college was even more so.


    It was the advancement of papermaking and the introduction of printed books that enabled the Alliance army to emte the structure of theological colleges and establish tuition-free schools to train officers at a lower cost. The fact that the military academy charged no tuition made it highly attractive to arge number of poor but ambitious young people.


    But let''s get back to Winters.


    After taking out the other small items, Winters finally took out his shoulder bag from the deepest part of the luggage.


    "Brother, is that blood on the cloth bag?" Elizabeth eximed with her hand over her mouth.


    "No," Winters replied calmly, "it''s red wine."


    This bag was the one Winters had used on the night shift when he encountered the female thief, after which he was taken to fight the fire and then lost consciousness,ter being carried onto the Bandit Gull.

 Chapter 69: Chapter 34: Home_4

    So, the shoulder bag had never been washed, covered in bloodstains from Winters everywhere: stters from the fight, smears from handling the whistle.


    "Really?" The girl was skeptical; she was no fool. But her brother''s tone was calm and unflustered, not seeming to be feigned.


    Winters opened the shoulder bag and carefully took out the female thief''s dagger, which he had returned to the bag after their encounter.


    Elizabeth''s eyes lit up, and she reached for the dagger: "What is this? It''s so pretty."


    Winters was startled and lifted the dagger high, out of his sister''s reach: "Be careful, it''s sharp."


    With his height and long arms, no matter how the girl reached, she couldn''t touch the dagger. She simply hugged Winters''s left arm and coaxed him: "Just let me see it, please? I''ll just look, I won''t take it, is that okay?"


    "Alright," Winters relented: "I''ll hold it for you to look, but be careful, it''s very sharp."


    Before, Winters had either casually stuffed the dagger into the bag or pulled it out to stab someone, so this was, in fact, the first time he had properly examined the weapon he had confiscated.


    The de of the dagger was about twenty centimeters long, about two fingers in width, double-edged, with a straight edge and no fuller. It resembled a short sword, but it had no guard or quillons, just a sleek, straight hilt.


    There might have been decorative patterns originally on the de, but since Winters had used it to cast the Luminosity Spell, it had turned red and ck, covering everything. However, the red and ck patterns on the de gave it an eerily beautiful look.


    The handle of the dagger had no decorations either; it was wrapped in some kind of leather over a wooden grip. Thin strands of some silver-colored metal were twisted into a cord and wrapped around the handle of the dagger with a one-finger interval, ending in a smooth counterweight sphere.


    Winters spected that the metal wire on the dagger''s hilt might be silver, and even if it wasn''t, the craftsmanship required to weave three strands into a cord was not something an average artisan could manage.


    Although the de was not visible at the moment, when he stabbed people on the ship, the dagger slid into the body as if cutting through butter, suggesting the steel was of good quality as well.


    From all the evidence, this seemed to be a rather fine dagger. Unexpectedly, the female thief cared quite a bit about her "dining utensils."


    "This little knife is so pretty." Elizabeth, taking advantage of her brother''s distraction, snatched the dagger and started making gestures in the air with it.


    Watching his sister clumsily wave the sharp weapon, Winters felt his heart leap with fear, worried she might identally cut herself, and he kept saying: "E! Be careful, that dagger is very quick."


    In truth, the more Winters mentioned the sharpness of the dagger, the more Elizabeth wanted it.


    Winters hadn''t realized, from a male perspective, that the dagger had been originally used by a woman; although its design was simple, itspact and exquisite construction naturally would attract the eyes of a girl. Moreover, since Winters had "colored" it with the Luminosity Spell, Elizabeth was even more reluctant to part with it.


    Hearing his words, Elizabeth stopped, blinked, and yed hard to get by obediently handing the dagger back to her brother.


    Then she hugged Winters''s left arm again, ying the spoiled child: "Brother, can you give me this little knife? Please? The safety in Sea Blue City has been terribletely, let it be for my self-defense?"


    "I''m afraid you might hurt yourself."


    "But I''ve used kitchen knives before, and even craft knives, and I''ve never hurt myself," Elizabeth retorted sharply and quickly. Winters had never been able to win an argument with her since they were young.


    "It''s designed differently, this dagger is really dangerous, and you could very easily hurt yourself with it." Could it not be dangerous? Winters thought. In his hands alone, the dagger had already taken three lives, not to mention its previous owners; it might be the deadliest thing in the house.


    "Then you can teach me how to use it."


    Winters was at a loss for words. He had only love and tenderness for his sister, and he couldn''t say things like "What does a girl need with something like this?"


    He sighed, finally conceding defeat: "Okay, I''ll give it to you. But the dagger doesn''t have a sheath now. Wait until I make one for you, okay?"


    "Isn''t it just a sheath? I can find some leather and sew one right now." Elizabeth cheered triumphantly, now that she had gotten her way.


    "Fine, make the sheath, and thene get the dagger from me, okay?"


    "You''re the best, brother!" Elizabeth nted a kiss on her brother''s face and hurried off to her room to sew the sheath.


    Winters shook his head, the image of his sniffling, tearful little sister who used to fight and cry with him still vivid in his memory. When had she be so...


    Astonishing? Not quite right.


    Understanding? Not quite right either.


    Very good at persuading people? Even less so.


    In any case, she had changed; truly, a girl changes eighteen times between childhood and womanhood.


    As he pondered, he emptied the shoulder bag, and a small white silk parcel fell out. Winters picked it up and took a while to remember this too belonged to the female thief.


    But Winters was very tired now, with no interest in what was inside the parcel, so he casually tossed it back onto the table, pulled the white cloth off the bed, and copsed onto it as if he had lost all his strength.


    He closed his eyes.


    Time to sleep.


    ...


    ...


    But he couldn''t sleep!


    Curiosity overpowered sleepiness; he still wanted to know what was inside the little parcel.

 Chapter 70: Chapter 34 Homecoming_5

    Winters abruptly stood up, walked to the desk, and unraveled the white silk cloth.


    Inside was something that looked like a small notebook?


    The notebook''s front and back covers were yellow, with a texture that felt like some kind of leather, possibly cowhide?


    There was a sp on the side.


    Winters opened the sp, filled with anticipation, and opened the notebook...


    ...


    ...


    What??


    It''s nk?


    He flipped through the notebook back and forth, only finding a tiny letter ''L'' at the lower-left corner of thest page.


    ''L''?


    What the hell is ''L''?


    Winters tossed the notebook back onto the desk with self-mockery, thinking, "Lieutenant Montagne, what were you expecting? A treasure map? A huge secret? Some unspeakable novel? That female thief probably can''t even recognize letters."


    He sighed and copsed back onto the bed.


    He hadn''t had a good rest for two days.


    As his mind rxed, fatigue came knocking at his door.


    On this familiar bed, all his physical pains were soothed away.


    Sleepiness overtook him.


    He drifted off to sleep.


    ¡ª¡ªI am the dividing line for the notebook with nothing written in it¡ª¡ª


    Although marrying one''s cousin was quite normal in this era, I assure you there will be no orthopedic content in this story. I hope to depict independent, intelligent, self-respecting, and admirable female characters, but essentially this is still a man''s story, about steel, gunpowder, and Magic.


    (Although up until now I have yet to let Winters "discover the ultimate secret of Magic," Orz, I promise, it''sing soon.)


    Elizabeth Serviati is Winters Montagne''s sister, and although they''re cousins, they grew up together and are as close as siblings from the same mother. Their rtionship is purely familial, with absolutely no romantic affection involved.


    ¡ª¡ªI am the orthopedic-free dividing line¡ª¡ª


    Moreover, before the invention of papermaking and book printing, books were astoundingly expensive, and ordinary people hardly had any need to read, with most books being copied and consumed by clerics. The early papermaking technique was subpar in quality, so scribes continued to copy texts on parchment, for after all, copying was a tough job, and certainly one would want to write on the best paper avable.


    ording to the paper "Standards of Living in the Later Middle Ages" by Christopher Dyer, published by Cambridge University Press in 1989


    In Ennd of 1397, the University of Oxford spent 113 pounds to purchase 126 books of an average 77 pages each, with ''pound'' referring to a pound of 92.5% pure silver. The average cost per book was about 0.830 pounds of silver, and the definition of ''pound'' in terms of weight has not changed much over time, approximately 376.482 grams of silver by today''s standards.


    Converted into today''s silver price, one book is nearly 1500 RMB.


    But considering the purchasing power of precious metals at the time, it was a fortune.


    This was because the outflow of precious metals in 14th century Ennd led to a currency shortage, inting the purchasing power of precious metals;


    At the same time, today''s low silver prices are due to mass mining, which has nearly turned silver into an industrial material, losing its mary properties.


    Even after movable-type printing was introduced in Europe, book prices remained high due to the limited audience. Like I mentioned before, many swordsmanship masters in the 15th and 16th centuries went bankrupt trying to print manuals and even resorted to embezzlement to fund their printing, only to end up hanged...


    Thus, movable-type printing was mainly used to print religious books because only this genre had a broad enough audience to worry not about sales and to spread the cost. During the Protestant Reformation, Protestants were fervent in printing pamphlets and vernacr versions of the scriptures.


    Furthermore, Selika''s widespread use of woodblock printing technology was an impressive achievement in reducing book prices. Yet it might be precisely because of a barely adequate technology that there was less motivation to improve, which ismentable. In the tenth year of the Daoguang era, when Li Yao printed "Southern Border Chronicles" in Hangzhou using movable-type, it actually cost more than woodblock-printed books. Woodblock printing technology suppressed the development of movable-type, eliciting a sigh.


    ¡ª¡ªI am the ''blessing in disguise'' dividing line¡ª¡ª


    Thanks to the social justice advocate Old Wang and book friend 20181013204343295 for their rmendation tickets


    Thank you so much, bowing in gratitude. To im that this story is purely written for oneself would be disingenuous; thank you for the recognition.

 Chapter 71: Chapter 35: Internship Volunteer

    The early military organization of human civilization consisted of property owners who provided their own weapons, armor, and horses for military service. These politically empowered property owners were known as citizens in the Gumlu Empire and as nationals in the Gusalica Empire.


    From this period on, the ability of amander to inspire the morale of troops became extremely important.


    In small-scale scuffles involving less than a dozen people, a silver-tongued leader was less useful than one who led from the front.


    But when a thousand people were fighting desperately against another thousand, how to make soldiers willingly follow one into hell became a skill that could determine victory or defeat.


    The crudest and simplest method was "money in ce, men in ce."


    But money was not the problem; theck of money was the problem.


    Waging war was burning money, something that military strategists through the ages have repeatedly emphasized as an important consideration.


    In wars, it''s rare for money to be on time; it''s the norm for it to bete.


    Since ancient times, generals and kings who have lost their lives due to unpaid military sries are asmon as hairs on an ox.


    Not to mention the distant past, let''s just look at the recent events. A symbolic incident marking the full outbreak of the war for sovereignty urred 38 years ago when Duke Arleans, dubbed "The Butcher," led his troops over the Sheltering Mountain Range to attack the rebels in the Duke of the Mountain Foothill Territories.


    Inter generations, historians from the Alliance would find thousands of metaphysical reasons, such as ''good always triumphs over evil,'' to exin why Duke Arleans could initially crush the rebels but eventually ended up besieged in a lonely castle, defeated, and dead by his own hand.


    But in this era, when this history was still a living memory and not just words in a book, every member of the Allied Army who had experienced the war for sovereignty knew why they could win: because Duke Arleans had run out of money.


    If King Richard IV could have paid Duke Arleans his military sries on time, the Federated Provinces Republic might still be the Mountain Foothill Duke''s Territory of the Empire.


    Duke Arleans, the Empire''s most capable andbativend armymander in the past hundred years, did not die by his own sword but rather due to bankruptcy.


    While money cannot buy true die-hard soldiers, in the feudal era, as long as one could ensure that his soldiers were well-fed, warmly clothed, and paid on time, one could be called a great general, inevitably reserving a spot in future history textbooks.


    Most of the time in history, the biggest issue facing officers was not how to convince soldiers to go to battle, but how to persuade a group of soldiers who were hungry, cold, and underpaid to fight, and this was true for both sides of the conflict.


    At this time, an inspiring pre-battle speech was the simplest and most effective method.


    A capable officer, with just a few words, could make his soldiers red-eyed and howling with readiness to charge forward.


    The brigadier general currently speaking at the podium clearlycked such eloquence. He had earnestly written a speech, but when he spoke, it was in one dull tone with no modtion, like a wooden xylophone with only one string left.


    As soon as the brigadier general opened his mouth, Winters could only feel his head swell and his eyelids begin to fight each other, blinking more and more frequently.


    The sun was westward, and the warrant officers were sitting in pairs or threes in the stuffy little auditorium of the army headquarters, in a meeting.


    This was an introductory session, originally intended to introduce internship positions within the various departments of the army to cadet officers.


    But the person on the stage was so hypnotically boring that Winters struggled to concentrate and only heard some repetitive nonsense. If it weren''t for Bard poking him secretly, he would have fallen asleep long ago.


    One person after another came and went from the podium, each exining their respective departments. Although a number of senior officers spoke, their prowess was about the same as that of the initial brigadier general.


    Throughout the auditorium, there was a pervasive sense of dullness, and it wasn''t just Winters¡ª all the warrant officers were drowsy and wobbly.


    Winters was really struggling to stay awake; his head gradually drooped, and his eyes closed. This time Bard didn''t wake him up because Bard couldn''t hold on either. As for Andre, he hadpletely let himself go, and if you listened carefully, you could even hear his quiet snoring.


    Just as Winters was about to fall deeply asleep, a thunderous drum sound suddenly came from the podium.


    ording to legend, an ancient wise king, after killing a dragon, made a war drum with the dragon''s hide as the drumhead and the dragon''s bones as mallets. When this drum was yed, it could be heard for a hundred miles around.


    This myth was originally told by Selika to Winters as a bedtime story when he was a child, but Winters now felt that the drum might be right there on the podium.


    That drumbeat startled him from his drowsiness, causing him to break out in a cold sweat, instantly dispelling all traces of sleepiness. All the cadet officers in the auditorium immediately perked up.


    Winters looked towards the podium, but instead of seeing any legendary dragon drum, he only saw a smiling person in officer''s uniform ncing around the auditorium.


    This individual appeared to be just over thirty, with sharp eyebrows, deep-set eyes, a prominent nose, and thin lips. He stood at an average height among the tall military officers, yet his presence seemed to tower over everyone else.


    Winters stared at the officer standing in front of the podium, and then there was another drum sound from that direction. This time, Winters saw it clearly.


    There was no drum at all; it was just the officer snapping his fingers. A regr snap could not make such a loud sound, and the answer was obvious: this was a Spellcaster who had amplified the sound of his finger snap with a sonic spell.


    However, Winters was puzzled; in his memory, the amplification spell only worked on the sound emitted by the Spellcasters'' vocal cords. He had never seen Spellcasters amplify external sounds before.

 Chapter 72: Chapter 35: Internship Volunteer_2

    Seeing that his method had captured the attention of every apprentice officer, the officer smiled smugly and nodded.


    "Are you all awake? Actually, I was almost asleep just now." The officer''s voice was clear and piercing, yet much louder than when ordinary people spoke; everybody in the auditorium could hear him perfectly, which was obviously the effect of a spell to amplify sound.


    Winters thought to himself that amplifying one''s voice was not difficult, but maintaining such stability was. For spellcasters, using a spell wasn''t as simple as pressing a button to achieve a certain effect.


    Spellcasters'' process of using spells is more akin to muscle exertion. Major Moritz''s burst of loud noise was the release of as much magical power as possible in an instant, like throwing a punch with all one''s might, striving for explosive power.


    And this officer was controlling the volume extremely smoothly through his spell, speaking while casting, as if he were tightrope walking while reciting poetry. Ordinary officers might not find this impressive, but for spellcasters, it was nothing short of an outright show of skill.


    Winters found himself interested in this senior spellcaster.


    The officer continued indifferently, "I don''t want to waste everyone''s time, so I didn''t prepare a speech, and I have very little to say."


    With one hand, the spellcaster swept over all the apprentice officers in the small auditorium: "You graduated from the foremost military academy on this continent. Did those few say you were the most promising and brightest youths in the Army?"


    "The most promising and brightest youths?" The officer snorted coldly, raising his voice, "Where? I don''t see any! Every active-duty officer in this auditorium is an alumnus who came before you, and at best you will only be like us!


    Bing a bureaucratic Army officer who can bore you to sleep like dead pigs, what future and prospects is that? Every one of us hase all the way from where you are standing, so let me give you two pieces of advice as a senior."


    This sudden denigration snapped all the warrant officers to attention, as sharp criticism often attracts more attention thanvish praise.


    The officer raised a finger: "First, everyone here has been singing praises of their department''s work, but let me tell you, it''s none of your concern. You''re just apprentice officers; in theing year, you''ll only do trivial chores! Copying reports, changing ink... that''s about it."


    Winters and Bard exchanged wry smiles, as the lieutenant colonel pped every warrant officer''s face resoundingly.


    Then he raised a second finger: "Second, even though you''re only responsible for odd jobs, you''ll be doing them in the most powerful violencer in this continent!


    Listen up! You will have the chance to observe up close how the power center of the Va Army operates and makes decisions, an opportunity that officers from misceneous backgrounds would die for! If being so close to power doesn''t excite you, then you don''t deserve to be officers; better to take off your uniforms and scram right now!


    Go on! Dismiss! Go run errands for the officers and generals! But if a general''s wife sends someone to ask about her husband''s evening schedule, tell them he has a meeting, got it? I''ve said all I want to say! That''s it, assembly dismissed!"


    The warrant officers burst intoughter, and the small auditorium was filled with sustained, enthusiastic apuse.


    "Who is this guy? Which department head?" Winters, pping vigorously, asked Bard.


    Bard flipped a page in his notebook: "Lieutenant Colonel Field Drums."


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am a lowly line separator¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Late that evening, at dinner time. Aunt Cosha and Cousin Elizabeth were busy in the kitchen, while Antonio and Winters were setting the table.


    The big general, enticed by the aroma, was moring at the kitchen door, unable to enter, and could only lie by the door, licking his fur to soothe his craving.


    "How did the meeting go this afternoon? Which department do you want to apprentice in?" Antonio asked Winters as he distributed the utensils.


    Every year, the warrant officers returning to Va would have such a meeting, aiming to acquaint these new military academy graduates with the basic structure of the Va Army and allow them to choose their departments for apprenticeship.


    Although in theory the choice was voluntary, if too many people applied for a certain department, that department would pick a few apprentice officers, and the other applicants would be distributed to departments where no one had applied, preserving a roughly even allocation of apprentice officers to the various departments of the Army.


    "I want to go to Lieutenant Colonel Field," Winters answered earnestly while cing tes, genuinely attracted by the lieutenant colonel''s charisma.


    "Field Drums?" Antonio appeared mildly surprised.


    Winters nodded, "Yes."


    Antonioughed at the name, musing jovially, "He''s a famous troublemaker. Zio is always ranting about tossing him over to the Historical Office. If he weren''t a spellcaster, he would have been shipped overseas a long time ago."


    "Maybe," Winters considered it wiser to listen obediently as his uncle made fun of the lieutenant colonel who might be his superior; he scratched his head and said, "I just feel like Lieutenant Colonel Field is more sincere when he speaks."


    "Someone who dares to say anything, if not sincere, what is he?" Antonio''s tone carried no hint of disapproval; he just found the situation amusing.


    After setting the tableware, both men sat waiting for the meal to be served.

 Chapter 73: Chapter 35: Internship Volunteer_3

    Antonio opened a bottle of wine, but Winters, having witnessed Major Moritz''s situation, avoided alcohol as if it were the gue and stuck to water instead.


    Winters carefully reflected on the lieutenant colonel''s performance during the meeting today and said, "Actually, I might not make it, Lieutenant Colonel Field was very popr today, and I expect there will be quite a few people applying to hismand."


    "Do you want to go?" Antonio asked his nephew casually after taking a sip of wine.


    Winters nodded vigorously, "Of course, I do."


    "Then go for it, it''ll be good for some training," Antonio said in a rxed tone.


    Winters'' eyes lit up; he understood his uncle''s meaning and got a little greedy, "I also have a friend from the cavalry who''s applied to go to Lieutenant Colonel Field''s, uncle, could you possibly..."


    Antonio didn''t mind at all, smiling as he said, "Then he should go with you. What''s your friend''s name?"


    "Bard, Gerard''s Bard."


    Aunt Kosha came out with a basket of cut bread and, seeing the two men in the house drinking and chatting, pped her brother on the back with an air of indignation, "You two sure have it easy, starting to drink before even setting the table,e and help out."


    Antonio and Winters were herded toward the kitchen by Kosha. Antonio seemed to remember something and cocked his head to ask his nephew, "You do know what department that kid Field is in charge of, right?"


    "Something with an M, I didn''t quite catch it; Lieutenant Colonel Field didn''t mention it himself." Winters felt too embarrassed to admit to his uncle that he had almost fallen asleep at the time.


    "Haha," Antonioughed, patting his nephew on the shoulder, "It''s MP, Military Police."


    "What? Military Police?" Winters was certainly familiar with Military Police; weren''t they just the military school inspectors? Hardly a popr role.


    "Dad, you take this, and brother, you take this." Elizabeth assigned tasks to the two men before rushing off to attend to something else.


    Antonio and Winters each carried a deep iron pot, one filled with stewing meat and the other with soup. The aroma of the stewed meat was appetizing, but Winters'' mind wasn''t on it at all, "Lieutenant Colonel Field is in charge of Military Police?"


    "To be precise, Field is just the head of the Military Police department at Va Army''s headquarters," Antonio carefully exined to his nephew, "The soldiers of a Standing Army regiment are managed by their Military Police unit; any army personnel whomit offenses in Sea Blue Citye under the jurisdiction of the garrisonmand''s Military Police unit; the Military Police department that Field oversees is an empty establishment set up just for that thorn in their side. It has a very narrow jurisdiction and practically doesn''t manage anything."


    After exining these intricacies unknown to outsiders, Antonio asked his nephew, "So, do you still want to go to Field''s now?"


    "I do," Winters affirmed with a nod.


    "Oh?" Antonio seemed puzzled.


    "Lieutenant Colonel Field is a very capable spellcaster, and I want to learn magic techniques from him."


    "Then go for it, go and learn, that will be good," Antonio nodded, his attitude still rxed, "Although Field has never worked under me, the fact that Zio has been driven half mad by him a few times and still couldn''t bear to send him overseas, setting up a sinecure just to keep him at the headquarters, shows that the man must be capable of something."


    With the food all set on the table, the four people took their seats again. Kosha, clearly delighted, began the prayer before the meal, and the four joined hands to form a circle as Kosha began chanting.


    All spellcasters in the Gulf Alliance are atheists, firmly believing that their abilitiese from knowledge and training, not from the grace of any existing deity.


    Winters was naturally no believer; he just yed along with Kosha not to hurt her feelings. However, he had his own convictions¡ªnever to recite the prayers, remaining silent every time.


    Winters was now preupied with thoughts of his internship; as soon as the pre-meal prayer was over, he couldn''t wait to ask his uncle, "I don''t understand why the internship ces are all in governmental units? Why aren''t we allowed to intern with the real army?"


    "Because there aren''t that many armies," Antonio said.


    "What?"


    Antonio patiently exined: "Where are there so many troops for you to intern with? Otherwise, why would you be thrown into governmental units? These days, most officers work in governmental units, and not many actually lead troops. There are three regimental numbers in Va, two of which are Standing Armies; each Standing Army also only maintains half of its troop strength in peacetime, namely one chiefpany plus fourpanies."


    Winters was astonished by Antonio''s words. ording to his uncle, the entire Va Republic, in theory, had three regiments, but only two were Standing Armies, and the actual force was just a little over one regiment, more than five thousand men.


    After the Sovereignty War ended and Richard IV withdrew his troops, schrs began seeking answers from ancient texts to the question "What to do without an emperor?"


    Finally, they found the answer they wanted: In ancient times, the people of Muro had also overthrown their king and established the kingless Muro Republic, which thrived for hundreds of years.


    "So, we are not the first to do this," the schrs breathed a sigh of relief.


    Since history had an example of sess without an emperor, it meant having no emperor was no big deal.


    Thus, from then on, the Senas Bay Alliance feverishly imitated the Muro Republic in all aspects, from politics and military to even artistic works, fully reviving the Ancient Empire.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 74: Chapter 35: Internship Volunteer_4

    This period of history waster known as "reforming through antiquity" because these imitations were simply putting new wine into old bottles. They simply borrowed the name of an old system to implement new policies.


    Take politics for example, the Republic of the Muro and the Republic of the United Provincials both call themselves republics, but they are entirely different matters.


    The former was a noble republic; whereas thetter had ughtered the nobility, creating a republic of the citizen ss, with vast rural areas not included within the republic''s jurisdiction.


    In terms of the military, they also imitated the Muro Republic by establishing legions, adopting the structure of squads of ten, centuries, cohorts, and legions.


    But now, with matchlock guns having be widespread, their formations aside, in terms of tactics, training, or the bnce of melee and ranged weapons, the two are utterly different.


    "How could our forces be so few?" Winters hurriedly asked.


    "Is a little over five thousand men considered few?" Winters'' naive question left Antonio speechless.


    He exined to Winters with resignation, "These are over five thousand full-time, standing soldiers! Kid, do you know how much money it costs to support a fully professional soldier who does not engage in any other profession? If you want someone to fullymit to being a soldier, you at least have to pay them an apprentice craftsman''s wages. This means paying the sries of five thousand craftsmen, plus taking care of their food, clothing, housing, and travel, as well as weapons and equipment. To be honest, if it wasn''t for the need to maintain a deterrent force, I would think even five thousand is a bit too much."


    "But what if there''s a war?"


    "In the event of a war, we temporarily call up reservists. Reservists also draw military pay, so after the war is over, they must be quickly disbanded. Thirty years ago, during wartime, there were refugees everywhere; you could pull in soldiers with just a mouthful of rice. Now it''s different. Waging war is burning money. For dealing with scattered bandits and a few farmers who refuse to pay taxes, the standing army is enough."


    "What?" Winters was thoroughly dumbfounded, "Isn''t the standing army established to resist foreign enemies?"


    "Haha, how could that be? The greatest role of the standing army is to deter internal enemies. It would not be enough to rely on these few thousand men against foreign adversaries."


    As the conversations between the two, young and old, became more animated, Elizabeth, seated aside, was also spellbound, but Tess was very angry.


    She had put a lot of effort into preparing dinner, and yet none of the three others at home were eating properly, nor was anyone praising her culinary skills. She felt very wronged at the moment.


    Tess suppressed her anger and knocked on her cup, "Can we not talk about things outside of the dinner table while we eat?"


    "Ah, this beef stew is really excellent." Antonio immediately noticed that his wife was in a bad mood, and he hastily signaled to Winters with his eyes, praising his wife''s great cooking skills again and again.


    Elizabeth, another family member of lower status, also got the hint and loudly eximed about how fragrant the beef soup was.


    Winters offered half-hearted praise as well; his head was full of the military secrets his uncle had just shared, and he really couldn''t fit anything else in.


    After a few bites of his meal, he couldn''t help but ask his uncle, "So afterwards, once I''m assigned to the office, does that mean I''ll only be doing clerical work for life?" He had thought he would be leading troops, but it turned out to be different than what he had expected.


    "Don''t be in a hurry. Once you be official officers, you will take turns leading troops in the units. Right now, there are too many officers and not enough soldiers, so you have to wait your turn."


    "Uncle, was it like that for you when you graduated from the military academy?"


    Antonio said proudly, "It was different for your father and me back then; we had wars to fight, so we went directly to the units to lead troops. Nowadays, there are no wars, so there aren''t that many soldiers, but peace is actually a good thing."


    Antonio paused, then added, "You guys don''t need to worry. It might not be long before we need to call up the reservists..."


    Tess once again knocked on her cup forcefully, "If you want to discuss these matters, go to the study after dinner!"


    Even someone as slow as Winters now realized that his aunt, a volcano, was on the verge of erupting.


    Praising thedy of the house once again became the main content at the dining table.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the dividing line that only praises the chef at the dining table¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Although weapons and tactical concepts have evolved countless times, the military structure of the Alliance''s various republics stillpletely copies the Muro legions, as if possessed by the Muro spirit.


    Each legion is primarilyposed of infantry, with cavalry and artillery serving as independent support units.


    For infantry, every 8 men form a squad;


    (That''s right, isn''t itmon knowledge that a squad has only 8 men?)


    Every 10 squads, totaling 80 men, form a century;


    Every 6 centuries, with 480 men,prise a cohort;


    9 cohorts of 480 men, plus a prime cohort of 750 men, totaling 5070 men, make up a legion;


    Cavalry and artillery serve as auxiliary legions, used collectively and under the directmand of the legionmander.


    The number of artillery and cavalry corresponds to the actual situation and fiscal policies of each member state.


    For example, since The Federated Provinces backs up to the Victory Arsenal, the legions of the Provinces are equipped with a number of cannons far exceeding those of other member states.


    And the Hignd Republic (Republic of Ptu), with its abundance of fine horses, ces greater emphasis on cavalry, and consequently, pays less attention to the development of infantry.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªI am the dividing line of legions reborn¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Thank you to social justice advocate Old Wang, book friend 20181013204343295, and longbow expert Li Gong for their rmendation tickets.


    Thank you for the reward from the vampire-ying Lan Qie.


    A bow in gratitude.

 Chapter 75: Chapter 36: Field Work

    Winters smoothly obtained an internship opportunity at the headquarters of the military police, but he was the only one. Since he learned that the military police was not a good ce to go, he felt there was no need to drag Bard into it, especially since Bard was not one of the Spellcasters.


    Bard wanted to go to the Equipment Department''s Horse Administration, and Winters asked his uncle for help. Andre found his own way to the Training Department, and the three friends separated for the time being.


    Standing at the entrance to the military police office, Winters adjusted his cor, smoothed the wrinkles on his uniform, and straightened his belt. After meticulously tidying up his appearance, he gently knocked on the door three times.


    "Come in." A voice slightlycking in vigor emanated from inside the room.


    Carrying his cap under his left arm, Winters pushed the door open and entered. Immediately to the right upon entering was a square table, behind which sat a golden-haired young man in his early twenties who was writing something on paper.


    He smartly saluted, and the golden-haired young man, in a fluster, hurriedly stood up, attempting to return the salute. Just as he raised his hand, he hesitated and put it down again, opting instead to bow deeply.


    Blushing, the golden-haired young man exined, "I am not an officer, just a scribe. There''s no need for you to salute me."


    Winters also felt a bit nervous, he even hadn''t noticed earlier that the golden-haired young man was wearing civilian clothes rather than a uniform. He smiled and extended his hand to the golden-haired youth, who shook it shyly.


    "Are you here to see Colonel Field?"


    "Yes, I am Winters Montagne, ordered to intern here for a year."


    The golden-haired young man, Morlock, busily came around the table and led Winters further into the office, saying, "The colonel isn''t here right now, please take a seat and wait for a while. My name is Morlock, and I am the clerk of this office."


    Guided by Morlock, Winters sat down on a long bench at the other end of the room, taking the opportunity to carefully observe the office space.


    The room allocated to the military police was situated in a corner on the second floor of the entire Army Headquarters building, clearly someone wanted the colonel to be as far away as possible.


    Although the room was in a remote location, its corner position afforded excellent lighting. The office was very tidy, with only a few desks and chairs and several filing cabs, devoid of decorative items, it felt refreshingly uncluttered to the eye.


    Besides the door he had entered through, there were two other doors in the office. The space behind the door to the west appearedrger and was obviously Colonel Field''s office. As for the other door, it was unknown whaty behind it.


    "Would you like some tea?" Morlock pulled out a set of porcin cups and ced them on a small table in front of Winters. It seemed the military police hadn''t entertained guests in a long while, as the cups were covered in ayer of dust. Morlock quickly took out a handkerchief and started to wipe the cups.


    "Don''t bother, I don''t drink tea," Winters hastily stopped Morlock. People in the Gulf Region liked to brew their tea with spices such as pepper and cinnamon along with leaves from the Far East. Winters always found the taste bizarre and never got used to it.


    "Then what would you like? Alcohol? Water?"


    "Thank you, but there''s no need to trouble yourself." Seeing Morlock''s frantic manner, Winters couldn''t bear to see him continue to fumble around: "Rather, could you please give me an introduction to the military police office?"


    Morlock scratched his head: "I can''t exin very well, as I am just a clerk. Please forgive any inuracies."


    "Please go ahead."


    "Actually, there''s not much to say about the headquarters'' military police. There are two officers¡ªyou make the third¡ªand a centurion of military policemen. It''s good for you to intern here; the work is very rxed, solely responsible for standing guard at the Army Headquarters. Anyway, no one dares to cause trouble here, so usually just arranging the guards'' shifts is enough."


    So that was it. Winters finally understood why his uncle had said that the headquarters'' military police was a department specifically established for colonels. Named military police, but actually guards, it was indeed degrading for a colonel to only lead a centurion.


    Morlock pointed at the door to therge room: "That''s Colonel Field''s office."


    "And what about the other door? Whose office is that?" Winters indicated the other door that led to a smaller room.


    Without looking back, Morlock said, "Oh, the officer for that office took leave and hasn''t been here for quite some time. Currently, in the military police, it''s only you and Colonel Field."


    At this point, Winters started to feel slight regret. Bard had gone to the Horse Administration, where he could enhance the family''s traditional horse-raising expertise; Andre had gone to the Training Department, which would presumably be interesting as well.


    From the once noisy group of more than thirty peers, Winters now sat here alone, suddenly feeling a bit lonely.


    As he sat there lost in thought, the door to the military police was violently kicked open, and a dynamic figure burst into the room, ignoring Winters''s presence, and kicked open Colonel Field''s office door with equal force before walking in.


    A loud shout came from the office: "[Expletives capable of making a deaf person cry]!"


    After a short while, Colonel Field emerged from his office with a rigid expression, and Winters quickly stood at attention and saluted.


    Field, with a hoarse voice, cut straight to the chase as he asked Winters, "Who are you?"


    Winters calmly presented his dispatch letter with both hands, "Interning officer Winters Montagne, reporting as ordered!"


    Field took the dispatch letter, nced over it hurriedly, his attitude neither warm nor cold, "Hmm... Infantry branch?"


    "Yes!"


    Colonel Field''s gaze shifted to the insignia of the Society of the Three and Five hanging on Winters''s chest.


    "Spellcaster?"

 Chapter 76: Chapter 36 Outfield Work_2

    "Yes, sir!"


    "Which spell are you proficient in?"


    "Uh, the Fire series."


    Hearing that it was the Fire series, Colonel Field chuckled dryly and pointed to Winter''s chest, "Take off that badge. Are you afraid outsiders won''t know you''re a spellcaster?"


    It was only then that Winters noticed that Colonel Field didn''t wear the badge of the Tri-Circle Association, and he recalled that Major Moritz didn''t wear a badge either.


    Proud of his spellcaster status, Winters wouldn''t have worn that badge every day at the military academy. However, considering that two senior officers didn''t wear badges, there must be a reason; he swiftly removed his badge and put it in his pocket.


    Colonel Field gazed into Winters''s eyes and said in a grave voice, "I have only two requirements, keep a tight lip and follow orders. Meet these two conditions and we''ll get along very well. Learn them, and you are a qualified officer."


    "Yes, sir!" Winters snapped his heels together, standing at attention once again.


    "How are your horse-riding skills?"


    "Decent."


    "Did youe to the pce on horseback today?"


    "No." Winters''s home was not far from Army Headquarters, just a short walk away, so there was no need to ride.


    "Go to the stables, lead out my horse, and get one for yourself; meet me at the entrance."


    Winters really hadn''t expected that on his first day as an intern, he would be sent on an outdoor task. Wasn''t it said that the job here was easy, just scheduling guard shifts?


    He crisply saluted once more and was about to set out.


    "Wait!" Colonel Field stopped Winters again, "Where is your sidearm?"


    Winters was stunned, "I don''t have a sidearm, only a longsword."


    "How can an officer not carry a sidearm? Wait here."


    Colonel Field quickly walked back to his office. Soon, he emerged with a saber in hand, tossing it to Winters as he said generously, "This is my Dusack, carry it for the time being."


    Winters caught the saber thrown by the colonel from the air. The weapon, scabbard and all, felt heavy, even heavier than the longsword.


    The de was slightly curved, about eighty centimeters long, with a simple, curved guard, resembling a cavalry saber. The ck wooden scabbard was unadorned, except for the pommel which was carved into the shape of an eagle''s head.


    He drew the sword a handbreadth and saw that it was sharpened on one side, with a thick spine and thin edge, featuring two fullers along the de that shimmered with a menacing cold light. There was also the scent of oil.


    Without a doubt, this was a well-maintained real deal.


    "You can go now," the colonel gestured with a wave of his hand.


    Winters nodded, gripping the Dusack, and strode out of the Military Police office.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª This is the genuine ''catching the de'' line separator¡ª¡ª¡ª


    He left Army Headquarters.


    Colonel Field rode his ck steed up front, while Winters followed behind on his own military mount, keeping half a horse''s length of distance.


    On this mission, Colonel Field had only taken Warrant Officer Winters with him, without any Military Police escort.


    There were quite a few pedestrians on the road, preventing the horses from galloping, so they proceeded with just a brisk walk.


    As they went further and left the city area, where there were fewer pedestrians, Colonel Field no longer deliberately controlled his pace, giving a gentle flick of the whip and nudge of the spurs against the horse''s ribs.


    With just a light signal, his majestic ck horse instantly understood his master''s wish, snorted happily, and with a sudden burst of muscr power in its limbs and chest, elerated rapidly, carrying the colonel at breakneck speed along the suburban dirt road¡ªthe ck horse, too, felt stifled in the city and was eager for a good, fast run.


    The little ck horse indeed enjoyed this, but Winters was distressed.


    Being naturally taller andrger than the major, even with excellent riding skills, he was not suited to be a jockey.


    His horse, provided for officers''munal use by the stables of Army Headquarters, was already less superb than the colonel''s ck horse and was quite worn from daily use, quickly falling arge distance behind.


    After a few strides, Colonel Field realized Winters had fallen behind. The colonel pulled the reins, and his ck horse, just warmed up and not yet satisfied with the run, whinnied discontentedly and slowed down.


    Winters then caught up, feeling embarrassed. He resolved inwardly to find himself a truly fine horse in the next few days topete with the colonel.


    The two rode the entire way in silence, with the colonel not disclosing their destination and Winters not asking. Yet, the farther they went, the more familiar Winters found the road; he tried hard to remember where he had traversed this route. Atst, he recognized it.


    Wasn''t this the way to the Customs Prison?


    Indeed, as Winters had guessed, they stopped at the grand entrance of the Customs Prison¡ªexactly the ce Winters had been "invited" to leave two days before.


    The colonel handed Winters the reins and walked straight up to the prison''s main gate, kicking it hard. His force was so great that the three-meter-tall, six-meter-wide oak doors shook on their frame.


    A small door on therger one opened, and several fierce-looking guards, holding long spears, ran out. They were about to start cursing when they saw the military uniforms and swallowed their dirty words back down.


    The leader asked politely, "What can I do for you gentlemen?"


    Colonel Field retrieved a sealed letter from his saddlebag and tossed it to the guard, "Give this to the person in charge here; tell him toe out and see me."


    The guards exchanged nces, and one of them quickly went to deliver the message.

 Chapter 77: Chapter 36 Fieldwork_3

    After a while, the main gates of the customhouse''s anti-smuggling prison swung open, and the warden came out in person to meet Colonel Field, leading him and two military officers into the prison.


    Returning to this ce after less than two days, Winters felt slightly emotional. Entering the prison as a guest rather than a prisoner certainly felt different.


    The warden didn''t lead Field and Winters into the main building but took them around the exterior wall to a small stone house.


    Even before approaching the small stone house with a wooden roof, Winters could smell an odor that made one want to vomit. It was clear the warden was prepared, as he pulled out a sachet to cover his nose and mouth.


    The colonel, expressionless, looked with contempt and disdain at the warden who couldn''t help but react to the smell. Winters followed the lead, striving to keep his face straight and trying not to show any signs of difort.


    The three of them stopped outside the stone house, with the warden frowning as he said, "The guards from the security department have been waiting at the archive building since early this morning. I''ve sent someone to notify them, they should be here shortly."


    He nced slyly at the two army officers, smiling as he spoke, "It''s too smelly inside. You''d better wait out here instead of going in to look first."


    Colonel Field observed the customhouse warden with a deep gaze, and from the deepest part of his nostrils, he let out a cold snort. He kicked the door open and entered, with Winters following closely behind.


    Upon entering the stone house, the stench became even more intense and sickening, almost urging one to vomit out thest bit of content from their stomach. The wretched stench brought to Winters'' mind the most disgusting thing he could imagine in the world:


    It was as if the gas bloated from a skunk''s corpse that had been left to rot in a sealed cave for a hundred years.


    Winters finally understood where they were¡ªthis was the prison morgue.


    Inside the stone house, flies danced wildly as three naked male bodies wereid out on wooden nks, most likely the source of the horrid smell.


    The bodies were covered with a snowke-like powder which Winters deduced to be salt.


    Using salt to preserve was an ancient method of preservation; certain civilizations used this technique to keep the heads of their enemies. However, it was clear that the pickling had not been very effective on these three, as some kind of liquid oozed from underneath their bodies, dripping from the nks onto the ground.


    Two more people entered from outside, their noses and mouths wrapped with cotton cloths filled with spices, appearing quite surprised to see two military officers entering the morgue without any protective scent gear.


    The leader adjusted the brim of his hat and saluted the two officers politely. Winters returned the gesture in simr fashion, while the colonel just nodded, his face expressionless.


    The leading man quickly introduced himself, "I''m Lop, an officer from the customhouse security department." He pointed to the man behind him, "This here is my deputy, Colonel Naro."


    Colonel Field, however, did not introduce himself. Instead, he went straight to the point, "Are these the three bodies?"


    "Not three," the security officer said with a wry smile. "Four."


    With a wave of his hand, his deputy walked to the far end of the room and lifted up a filthy bup cloth, revealing a fourth body underneath.


    To be precise, it wasn''t aplete body, just several parts of one. It was evident the original owner of the corpse had suffered some unspeakable and tragic fate, leaving only half remaining.


    Winters had killed pirates and had seen them executed on deck by their own mates, most needing more than one chop to sever their heads, a scene utterly bloody.


    He thought his mind was well-trained, but the gruesome sight of the half-corpse still made it impossible for him to look directly. He slightly turned his head away, avoiding the sight.


    Yet, Colonel Field simply nodded, his expression unchanging.


    Understanding the colonel''s demeanor, Lop, the security officer, said, "We''ve seen the bodies. Let''s discuss the rest outside. I know the two of you army officers have seen it all and can disregard it, but I can''t stand another second in this room. Let''s step out, shall we?"


    Winters instantly felt a surge of appreciation for the customs officer, but he remained as impassive as Colonel Field.


    The colonel nodded, and the four of them left the house. The warden outside had long since disappeared.


    As they walked, Lop, the security officer, exined in a casual tone, "The prison folks only know about using salt for preservation, but they don''t know you need to remove the innards first. With the weather being so hot, the bodies rot from the inside even though they might look intact outside, which is why they look like this. But you can''t me them. When prisoners die, they''re kept for a couple of days before being imed by family, or they''re buried straight away if they have none. They''re not used to dealing with bodies for so long."


    The four men continued walking until they were about twenty meters upwind from the morgue before they stopped.


    Lop handed a dossier to the colonel from his deputy''s hands and began to speak, "Everything we''ve found is in here. The four inside arrived at Sea Blue Port on a three-masted schooner called the Bandit Gull with your cadet officers this year..."


    What Lop didn''t know was the tumult his words were causing in Winters'' heart. The dim light in the morgue, coupled with the distortion of facial features caused by post-mortem muscle contractions, meant Winters couldn''t recognize any of the deceased.


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