MTL - Iron Powder and Spellcasters-Chapter 421 home
Chapter 421 Home
[Imperial Calendar Year 536][24 years ago]
[Plateau Frontier][present-day New Reclamation Province]
The sky was twilight and the autumn wind was chilling, and a group of riders fled in the desolate wilderness.
The riders come in different ages and outfits, the only thing they have in common is the visceral fear on their faces at the moment.
They were originally thirteen, but now there are only nine left. Those who were left behind were swallowed up by the vast darkness, and no one was able to catch up.
In addition to the hoofs of horses riding under the crotch, there is another hoof sound mixed with sharp whistles from the wind.
The peculiar sound of hooves had chased the riders all night, like gangrene to the bones, no matter how fast they escaped or how difficult the road they chose, they couldn't get rid of them.
"They are fast!" One of the nine riders shouted desperately at the others: "We can't get rid of it! It's better to take advantage of the strength! Let's fight!"
The leading rider looked at the horizon: it was already bright, and the outlines of the forest and hills were clearly visible. If they could not escape under the cover of darkness, there would be no chance after dawn.
He gritted his teeth and suddenly tightened the reins. His mount neighed and raised its front hooves, staggering a few steps to a halt.
"Stop running!" The leading rider gasped and yelled, "Fight with them!"
Among the other eight riders, six stopped their horses when they heard the sound, and approached the lead rider. The other two riders ran towards the forest as if they didn't hear anything.
The lead rider was temporarily unable to take care of his treacherous accomplices. He pulled out his blood-stained saber, swallowed a mouthful of saliva, and shouted: "What are you afraid of? They are also human! White knives go in, red knives come out! Kill them. , no one will dare to resist us again! We will take it here in the future!"
The other six riders also drew their weapons one after another, and in order to strengthen themselves, they roared wildly.
This group of riders, who originally had thirteen, but now there are only nine riders left, are not ordinary civilians, but horse bandits and horse thieves who make the people of the frontier talk disgusting.
For the pioneers who moved to the uninhabited frontier, horses were often the most valuable property of a family and the most indispensable tool.
Losing their horses meant they were isolated in tiny island-like settlements surrounded by an ocean of uninhabited wilderness.
So pioneers will do whatever it takes to defend their horses.
It is precisely because of this that all the horse thieves are the most ferocious, cruel, and lawless evil people.
After a while, the figure of the pursuer appeared on the hillside, also a small team of riders, about twenty people.
Seeing that the horse bandits were divided into two groups, the leader of the rider whistled, and four riders were immediately separated from the chasing team to chase the two horse bandits who fled to the woodland.
The other riders rode their horses down the hill and rushed straight towards the seven horse bandits who wanted to let go.
The bells hung on the chest straps of their warhorses jingled, the long and narrow saber gleamed with cold light, the round earrings and forehead hair fluttered in the wind, and the braided knives woven by the wives and daughters were wrapped around their hands.
On one side are veterans who came to claim their lives, and on the other side are desperate horse bandits who are at the end of their lives. Without cursing or persuading them to surrender, the two sides roared and rushed towards each other.
…
The short but fierce riding battle came to an end. The horse bandits were defeated, and the pursuers were victorious.
Blood spilled on this wild land, and it was steaming at first, but soon became cold.
A thin young rider dragged a half-dead bandit into the prisoners with difficulty, then stroked his forehead, which was stuck on his forehead, and walked towards the leading rider.
The rider led by knelt beside a companion lying on the ground, held his companion's hand tightly, and nodded.
The words of the rider lying on the ground were broken, and a coat was draped under his chest, covering the horrific wound in his abdomen. Blood flowed from under his body, pooling in puddles in the mud. Seeing that he is getting less and less air in and more and more out.
After finished his last exhortation, the dying rider squeezed out a smile. He looked at the face of his comrade-in-arms beside him, and spit out the last word with difficulty:
"thanks".
After saying that, his eyes lost their luster.
Waited until the leading rider covered his eyes for his fallen comrade, stood up straight, and wiped away his tears, before the thin young rider spoke: "Girard Pleninovich, what about the living horse thief?"
"Bring that little kid here," said Girard.
The skinny rider - Sergey - nodded and whistled, and a Dussack came to Girard with a boy of about seven or eight years old.
The little boy was obviously greatly frightened, his eyes widened and he looked around in horror. Gillard just stood in front of him, and he screamed shrilly as if he had been stimulated.
But no one blamed him because he was the only survivor of the massacre that happened just last night.
Girard held the child in his arms until the latter stopped screaming, until the latter stopped crying.
Then he carried the child towards the horse bandit who was still alive, pointed to the nearest one, and asked, "Is there him?"
The little boy struggled hard, desperately trying to hide behind Girard, and didn't even dare to look at it.
"Don't be afraid," Girard said softly. "Just nod and shake your head. Come, look at him, and tell me—is there him?"
The little boy looked at it for a long time, and nodded his head sobbing.
No need for Girard to say more, Sergey took out his saber and stepped forward, grabbed the hair of the identified horse bandit with his left hand, and stabbed the saber in the back of the latter's shoulder with his right hand, killing him cleanly.
Several other captured horse bandits witnessed their accomplices being slaughtered like pigs, begging for mercy, cursing, and crawling and trying to escape, full of ugliness.
"Beasts!" Sergey kicked a horse bandit who was trying to escape, and scolded: "Have the courage to commit murder, but not the courage to lead to death?"
Girard did not speak, until his companions brought the horse bandits under control, he pointed to another horse bandit and asked the little boy: "Is there him?"
The little boy nodded.
Sergey did not hesitate to attack, the horse bandit who was identified softened and threw himself on the wasteland.
Until the fourth and final captive was identified, the little boy shook his head.
"Without him?" Girard asked with a frown.
The little boy shook his head again.
Girard handed the little boy to his companions, crouched in front of the last horse bandit alive, and asked, "Without you?"
The last surviving horse bandit was an old man with a sparse beard that had already turned white, and one eye was stuck with the blood from the wound on his head. Say, "I...I didn't do it."
Gillard snorted in disdain.
"You...you want...what are you going to do?" The old horse bandit gasped and asked, "Judge...judg me?"
"I'm not a judge, and there is no law here." Girard drew his saber and gestured with his hand: "Pull up his right arm."
Sergey didn't say a word, he quickly took off the old horse bandit's shirt, grabbed the old horse bandit's wrist, and raised the old horse bandit's right arm.
Girard swung the knife down with an expressionless face. In a flash of cold light, the old horse bandit's right arm was chopped off with his elbow.
The severed limb was thrown to the ground by Sergey, and blood spurted out from the incision. The old horse bandit screamed in agony, almost fainting in pain.
But it was not over yet, Girard tore off a piece of cloth and restrained the broken arm of the old horse bandit. He lit a fire and burned the shoe to a dark red to stop the bleeding of the old horse bandit's broken arm.
At the same time, the other Dussacs hung the corpses of the horse bandits in a row on the trees by the roadside. Dussack, who went to chase the other two escaping horse bandits, also dragged the corpses of the horse bandits back.
Before leaving, Girard stood in front of the half-dead old horse bandit and looked down at the latter.
"If you can survive." Girard's tone was cold: "Go tell them, tell everyone like you."
"Tell them what?" the old horse bandit asked hoarsely.
Gillard leaned over to the old horse bandit: "Me."
Having said that, he walked to his mount and mounted it in the stirrups.
"The head of the horse bandit..." Sergey asked hesitantly, "Would you like to take it off for a bounty?"
"Let them rot."
With the remains of his companions and the recaptured horses, Girard walked in the direction of home without looking back.
Behind him, the corpse of the horse bandit swayed in the wind.
They will be eaten by crows, eaten by beasts, and birds and beasts will eventually die, decay, and eventually become part of this wild land along with the blood shed by Girard and others.
…
When the smoke from the settlement came into view, it was almost dusk.
The setting sun dyes everything on the earth golden, and the cool evening breeze is refreshing.
Sergey blew Dussac's minor tune, and the other Dussacs hummed softly, while the little boy with tears in his eyes hugged Girard's neck and fell asleep.
Sergey caught up with Girard on horseback, and said thoughtlessly: "The land here is very fertile."
"Yes." Girard's body swayed rhythmically with the horse.
"This year's harvest is also good."
"That's right."
"Next year... I plan to build another house." Sergey flipped his Adam's apple: "And then bring my father and mother here from the Shield River."
Girard turned to look at his fellow countrymen, partners and comrades in arms.
"I don't care what others think, but I won't go back to the Shield River." Sergey said: "My sons and daughters and their sons and daughters will not go back. We shed blood on this land, and here will be us. s home."
Silence for a moment.
"Yes." Girard stared at the green smoke in the distance and replied softly, "This will be our home in the future."
Separated from his companions, he rode his horse through the tree-lined road. The oak tree he planted when he settled here has grown to the height of two or three adults.
At the end of the boulevard, the gate of the fence.
His wife, who heard the crisp bell of his warhorse, was waiting for him.
…
…
…
[Location: Wolf Town]
[time: now]
Gillard rode on a tree-lined road that he had walked through innumerable times. The oak trees on both sides of the road were like huge umbrellas, shielding him from the scorching May sun.
The end of the tree-lined road is still his home, but it is no longer the home he is familiar with.
The faded silver bells tied to his harness made a still crisp sound, accompanied by the hoofs of the horses.
However, when he heard the bell, it was no longer his wife Ellen, but his young daughter Scarlett, who was waiting by the gate of the manor.
As soon as Scarlett saw her father come back, she ran to her father immediately, pretending to be crying and shouting, "Dad!"
Seeing her daughter coming to complain again, Gillard had a headache. Because Scarlett had cut her long hair without authorization, Mrs. Mitchell forbade her to show her face, and even not allow her to appear at the wedding reception when Pierre was married.
"Wedding grounding" is the cause of a new round of mother-daughter Cold War, but the fuse that really sparked the conflict was Mrs. Mitchell's forbidding Scarlett to go to Gervain again.
Scarlett couldn't change her mother's attitude, so she could only cry and complain to her father every day. So Gillard became a rat in the bellows at home—at both ends.
So most of the time after returning to Wolf Town, Gillard took refuge in the town hall under the guise of an office.
Gillard rolled over and dismounted, looking at his daughter's pitiful posture, he sighed helplessly: "You know, what your mother decides, I also..."
"Dad!" Scarlett hugged her father's arm, half coquettish and half pleading.
"I'm hungry." Girard said, "Is there anything to eat? Have dinner first."
Dinner time, the atmosphere is still awkward.
Mrs. Mitchell and Scarlett didn't speak to each other, and Pierre's new wife didn't know what to say. The food on the table was also plain and simple, a far cry from the hearty meals of the past.
In fact, Mitchell Manor has now lost its basic premise as a "manor" and has become a mansion with only residential functions.
Because of the previous decree of the new government in Iron Peak County to "expropriate idle land and distribute it to refugees", all the land in Wolf Township Plantation, including Mitchell Manor, was expropriated and allocated to refugees for farming.
At that time, the reasonable Mrs. Mitchell accepted the order of the new government, and even offered to help Bud to persuade other estate owners who were unwilling to hand over the land.
However, when Girard returned home, he found that the land he had saved so hard was now in the hands of others—although it was only a temporary expropriation—he was really upset.
But old Dussack didn't say anything, he just got sullen in his heart and drank sullenly at the wedding.
Gillard Mitchell's mentality is almost the mentality of all estate owners.
The haze of war has dissipated, and the invasion of Heard barbarians has also been thwarted. At present, winter wheat is thriving, and spring wheat has been sown. Xia Tiefeng County is thriving, and people unconsciously forget the sense of crisis.
The war was over, but the land was not returned—even the promised "rent" was not paid.
When I was in Gervodin, there were already quite a few wolf town manor owners who secretly urged Girard Mitchell to "talk" with the Montagne tribune, but the old Dussac refused.
But Gillard also wanted to know in his heart, when will his land be returned.
"The order to expropriate idle land." At the dinner table, Girard asked Pierre: "When will it end?"
"I don't know." Pierre shook his head.
Gillard gave an "Oh" in disappointment.
Pierre stared at the plate in front of him. After a moment of silence, he said softly: "When the tribune comes back from the Heards, I will also leave."
Except Scarlett, everyone at the table stopped the cutlery.
"Where are you going?" Pierre's new wife, Amelie, asked nervously.
Pierre said with a smile, "I'll go wherever the tribune goes."
"I'll go with you too." Scarlett deliberately nibbled on the dry bread loudly.
"No." Mrs Mitchell's tone could not be refused.
"Then I'll steal it! I'll ride a horse and leave! Mom, if you can catch up, come after me!"
After saying that, Scarlett picked up another piece of dry bread from the basket and ran away angrily.
Gillard couldn't help his daughter, and when he turned his head and met his wife's sad eyes, he had to bow his head and concentrate on the beet soup.
"Dad, Mom." After pondering for a long time, Pierre said cautiously: "I want to take you out of Wolf Town together."
"Leaving Wolf Town?" Girard was first surprised, then angry: "This is my home! I'm not going anywhere."
"Do you remember what I said to you?" Pierre explained patiently and indomitably: "Whether it's me or the Mitchell family, there is only one way to go - and that is to follow His Excellency the Tribunal. Tribunal My career won't stop at Wolf Town, and I won't stop at Wolf Town, so I want to bring you all together..."
"I'm not going." Girard said firmly: "I'm not going anywhere!"
Pierre tried to fight again, but heard the clutter of hooves and footsteps from outside.
"Mr. Mitchell!" People outside shouted from a distance: "Mr. Mitchell!"
Girard stood up and subconsciously wanted to respond, but the person who came to report was looking for Pierre.
"The cavalry team that conquered the barbarians is back!" The joy of the messenger was beyond words: "It also brought back a lot of spoils! The cavalry team is celebrating in the town! Come on too!"
…
The two streets in the center of Wolf Town are now brightly lit, like a sea of joy. Even before being devastated by war, she had never been so lively.
The barracks in the center of the town were too small to accommodate the cavalry. The victorious hussars lit fires, slaughtered animals, drank, and feasted directly outside the camp.
When the migrant farms heard the news, they sent vegetables, flour and kvass, a fermented liquid bread, as gifts. Residents who lived nearby and came to watch the fun were also invited to the banquet by the enthusiastic host.
There were also Dusa children riding horses from Dusa village to the town, and looked enviously at the majestic black-clothed light cavalry in celebration.
Among the light cavalry, there was even a skinny colonel who took out a whole box of gold and silver, and proclaimed "buy as much wine as you have", asking the people of Wolf Town to "don't hide it any more, and hurry up and take out all the wine." ".
"Dad." In the noisy crowd, Pierre asked Girard, "Don't you think... Mommy prefers to live in the city?"
Gillard, who was just about to take a glass of wine to drown his sorrows, heard this, his head slumped, and after a while, he sighed and said, "Let me think about it again."
"Okay." Pierre did not urge: "I will go to His Excellency the Tribunal."
Having said that, Pierre left his father and walked through the crowd towards the barracks.
But it was Ellen Mitchell who found Pierre first.
"Pierre." Ellen hugged her beloved son's cheek, looking sad and relieved, she said softly: "Go if you want, if you want to take your wife, take it with you... Also, take care of it Good Scarlett."
"What about you?" Pierre heard his mother's overtone, and he asked in surprise: "Do you want to stay? You never like living in Wolf Town!"
"It's okay." Ellen Mitchell wiped her tears and said with a smile, "This is your father's home, and it's my home. He is reluctant to leave here, and I will be here with him."
Pierre was silent.
In the distance, Vashka, who found her friend's figure, waved her arms and shouted Pierre's name.
…
…
On the other side of the , in the office of the garrison officer in the garrison of Revodan.
Winters felt that he no longer knew what was written on the paper—the quilled letters gradually turned into unrecognizable lines, floated into the air, and flew around Winters like flies, making Winters Si was dizzy.
And at the other end of the desk, Richard Mason set out a set of exquisite cloisonné enamel tea sets, drinking some kind of reddish liquid with gusto.
"Uh...what are you drinking?" Winters' throat was sore with thirst.
Mason took a sip: "Sugar water."
Winters felt a little familiar: "Where did this set of cups come from?"
"Yours," Mason answered contentedly, putting down his glass.
Winters smiled bitterly and poured himself a glass: "How much do I have left to watch?"
Mason looked back and said lightly, "Not much, there's a car and a half left."
Winters could not help but sigh. He thought about it for a while, and accidentally spilled the red liquid from the cup on the table, wiped it hurriedly, and then pretended to inadvertently ask: "Or I'll be here today, and I'll see the rest tomorrow..."
"You know now..." Mason took a deep breath and asked slowly, "Is there a problem with me?"
"Got it." Winters responded quickly: "Got it!"
"Then what should you say?"
"Thank you, senior!"
"I don't want to hear this."
"I'll never just pick someone and leave."
Mason snorted softly and nodded: "It's almost the same."
Then he took out a paper bag from the bottom of the second car file and put it on Winters' desk: "Actually, although a lot of things have happened during this time, there are only a few important things, you can read them all. ."
Winters nearly choked to death.
The first document in the [Important Matters Bag] is the report on the fire at the Cathedral of Gervoudin.
"The fire started at night. It is presumed that the candlestick lit the curtains. The fire started in the holy relic room, and then spread to the prayer room and the main hall." Mason sighed: "Because of this fire, if Brother Carman hadn't come back, Gervodin couldn't even find a Catholic cleric who could conduct Mass."
"Isn't that Father Edmund who was burned to death by...?" Winters picked up the report and asked casually, "How could there be 'not even a catholic cleric who can preside over Mass'?"
"Who said that only Father Edmund was killed?" Mason asked inexplicably. "When the fire spread to the prayer room, the monks in the Cathedral of Gervoudin were praying at vespers, but none of them escaped. Except for a few servants Other than that, no one is spared at the Cathedral of Gervodin. I have written to the bishop of Maplestone, asking him to send a cleric to temporarily take his place... eh? Why are you so serious all of a sudden?"
"Oh, nothing." Winters put the fire report in the drawer alone, and after a moment of thought, he looked at Mason: "Senior, please bring me all the files and testimony about the fire, but... don't alarm anyone people."
"Okay." Mason also put away his joking gesture: "No problem, I can give it to you tomorrow."
"Go on to the next thing."
"The next thing?" Mason slapped his forehead and asked angrily: "Wool! The Chihe Department sent more than 100 cars of wool! The Teltown Department sent more than 80 cars! The light can't get in! There's nowhere to put it! I have to build a special warehouse to store wool for you. What are you going to do with it? Have you made up your mind about the rate of taxation in summer? The rent of the major estates should almost be given. You can’t always pay the money if you agree to it. Hold on? Also, Berion and his brother asked to see you too..."
While talking, footsteps came from outside the door, and then there was a knock on the door.
Winters and Mason looked at each other, he put away the papers on the table, Mason also straightened his chair and sat up straight. Both of them put away their relaxed chatting attitude and showed a formal attitude.
"Enter."
Bart Charing pushed the door into the office, raised his hand and saluted: "Centurion."
Mason found that Winters was not only unhappy but a little angry to see one of his most trusted subordinates.
I saw Winters raised his eyebrows slightly and asked, "What are you doing back here?"
"Report! Submit the battle report of the Battle of Shovel Harbor to you." Bart Shalling answered meticulously.
"That kind of thing can be done by sending a messenger. Besides, haven't you already sent a good news?" Winters asked solemnly: "You dropped your troops just to report the good news to me in person?"
"Report, no!" Bart Shalling replied solemnly, he scratched his head: "It's because a little... accident happened, Tamas he... he didn't dare to come."
"What unexpected situation?" Winters' expression eased a little and asked with a smile, "Could it be that Alpha escaped?"
Bart Charing stood at attention: "Report, no! We have caught the enemy officer under the pseudonym Alpha."
Then, Bart Shalling told the story of the ambush of the small army led by Alpha.
Hearing the part about "Captain Morrow arranged an ambush in advance, waiting for the enemy to throw himself into the net", Winters nodded.
When he heard "Alpha is strong in martial arts and strong in skills, seven warriors couldn't catch him", Mason pouted, but Winters was very interested.
Finally, when he heard the "fishing net" section, Mason couldn't help laughing and praised: "That recruit is quite clever!"
"Report, Captain Mason, the problem lies in that fishing net." Bart Shalling was slightly embarrassed, and he explained: "After the enemy officer who goes by the pseudonym Alpha fell into the water, he was entangled in the fishing net and wore armor..."
"Drowned?" Winters laughed dumbly.
"Report, I didn't drown." Bart Shalling added: "But he almost drowned. After he was rescued ashore, the recruit was displeased, so... so he beat him again."
Mason laughed and shook his head helplessly.
"Since you didn't drown, then **** to Gervodin." Winters ordered directly: "I will interrogate him myself."
"Report, I have escorted him over. But..." Bart Shalling swallowed a mouthful of spit and said tentatively: "He said... his name is Axel."
Bart Charing's voice was barely audible: "He said he knew you."
[62741/100000]
[This event will probably become the dark history of the master...]
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(end of this chapter)