Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 815 - 79 New Town

Chapter 815: Chapter 79 New Town Chapter 815: Chapter 79 New Town Big Horn River, by the Floating Bridge.

A slender man dressed in Herder’s robes stared at the tips of his boots, and spoke intermittently to another group of shabbily clothed men, “The Khan praised us… You’ve done well, after disbanding, you’ll get felt tents, cattle, sheep… and female slaves…”

Despite the rewards, why were the men in such pain?

They showed no joy or pride, only numbness in most of their eyes, and a few bore expressions of anger and unwillingness.

Another gaunt man, his face covered, suddenly yanked off his scarf and spat harshly.

The sound of spitting wasn’t loud, but it stung the slender man in Herder’s robes as if he were stung by a wasp.

He jerked his head up, scanning the crowd before him and screamed hysterically, “You think you’ve got guts to run away! You refuse to work! Why blame me? What do you hate? You treat me like a dog of the Herders, but does anyone damn care about me! You…”

The man who had torn off his scarf stepped out of the crowd, walked up to the man in Herder’s robes, and said coldly, “Enough.”

Anyone who looked directly at the scar-faced man’s face was deeply shocked.

...

Where his nose should have been, there was only a hideous scar and two hollow pits leaking air.

Upon closer inspection, even within his hair, the ears that should have been there were missing.

The scar-faced man wasn’t born with deformities; his nose and ears had been cut off.

Herders didn’t chop hands or ankles—they still needed those for work. So for escaped slaves, they would cut off body parts that didn’t hinder labor or burn them with a branding iron until death.

The slender man in Herder’s robes dared not meet the scar-faced man’s gaze; he shivered and instantly fell silent, tears welling up, “Captain…”

The scar-faced man rewrapped his scarf, his gaze turning dim, “I am no longer your captain.”

Across the vast Big Horn River, a Floating Bridge spanned the two banks.

What was once an impassable barrier became a thoroughfare, with hundreds of armored soldiers and warhorses crossing the Floating Bridge into Iron Peak County, amid shouts and curses in Herder’s language, except for this small group, who spoke what seemed like common language with a Paratu accent.

Among the ragged men, suddenly one fell to his knees and burst into heart-wrenching, grievous sobs.

Why was he crying?

Was it because, although he had returned to his homeland, he couldn’t go home?

Or was it because he had personally constructed this Floating Bridge?

…

As the smoke of war had yet to reach Niutigu Valley and riders seeking help were still rushing there, Winters had already learned from Tie Chi about the existence of that Floating Bridge.

The spread of technology is one of the byproducts of war.

During the Great Wilderness War, a massive number of expeditionary craftsmen from Paratu were captured, and the Terdon Tribe thus mastered the technique of erecting Floating Bridges using prefabricated parts and even more advanced skills.

That relentless hammering sound, Winters now finally understood what it was for—preparing the construction of the Floating Bridge.

Winters’s bargaining chip was a choice for Tie Chi: to believe or not to believe that the Fire-Maker’s head was real.

If Tie Chi didn’t believe the Fire-Maker was dead, Winters, under any circumstances, would first annihilate Tie Chi’s tribe and then deal with the Fire-Maker;

Or… if Tie Chi chose to believe the news of the Fire-Maker’s death, he would lay down his weapons and surrender, giving Winters time, and sparing Tie Chi and his tribe’s lives.

Choosing between the two, Tie Chi unhesitatingly chose himself.

The premise of negotiation is trust. Does Tie Chi trust Winters? Probably not. Winters felt the same.

But when drowning, even if it’s an enemy throwing a rope, one must cling to it tightly.

Since he had resolved to abandon the Fire-Maker, Tie Chi right away revealed the Fire-Maker’s plans entirely, his decisiveness even surprising Winters.

The Terdon Tribe lacked fodder, making it difficult for the warhorses to travel long distances.

Thus from the start, the Fire-Maker had only sent part of his main force to detour, while his direct followers retreated to unburned pastures to wait for an opportunity.

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Perhaps the presence of the ships disrupted the Fire-Maker’s “strategems,” or maybe the Fire-Maker harbored even darker intentions.

When Tie Chi led his troops to the east bank of the Big Horn River and held back all of Winters’s forces, the elite of the Fire-Maker’s tent did not appear.

Where was the Fire-Maker? Tie Chi no longer cared. Winters could roughly guess, but he needed to first calm the remnants of Tie Chi’s tribe before he could deal with the Fire-Maker.

Joining hands in an oath, Winters went alone with Tie Chi into the camp of Terdon’s remnants.

Tie Chi, holding the symbol of the khan— the blue flag with nine horse tails, along with the Fire-Maker’s head, announced the Fire-Maker’s death to the people of Terdon.

The head was fake, but the flag was real.

The khan flag had initially been left by the Fire-Maker at the west bank camp as a feint. During the second crossing of the Big Horn River, the Terdon west bank camp was breached by Winters, and the guard of the flag fled with the banner.

Winters pursued the flag-guarding archer for fifty miles, eventually retrieving the flag from beneath a corpse.

With the genuine blue flag with nine horse tails and Tie Chi’s acknowledgment, the fake head became real.

The people of Terdon passively accepted the news of the Fire-Maker’s death; they had been beaten into a loss of will to fight, their lust for plunder dissipated, leaving only the instinct to survive.

Winters, in his role as “Hestas,” publicly swore an oath with Tie Chi not to harm the surrendered.

The surrender ceremony was simple; Winters personally oversaw the Terdon camp as the people of Terdon one by one emerged from the camp, leaving behind their weapons, armor, and warhorses in front of his flag, and taking away a piece of bread.

The captives were escorted to the south bank of the Panto River—there were no extra hands now to guard them.

Winters gave Tie Chi a hundred horses, fifty bows, and still expected Tie Chi to control his tribe.

After all these matters, Winters finally convened all his commanders, village heads, town mayors, and representative gentry.

Silence filled the grand tent, the air as cold as an ice cellar. Everyone who walked cheerfully into the tent sensed the abnormal atmosphere.

The intermittent cheers penetrated the tent—survivors from Iron Peak County were celebrating their victory.

Under a series of inquiring gazes, Winters calmly informed everyone, “The battle is not yet won, the elite of the Terdon Tribe might be attacking Revodan.”

…

Revodan, another mundane day.

Recent issues of “War Communication” were long overdue, and although people eagerly awaited the latest battle reports, life had to go on as usual.

Compared to the news from Panto River, the citizens were more concerned about police conditions on the north bank.

It was said that small bands of barbarian cavalry had slid into North Eight Towns and were looting and burning in the rural areas.

Revodan was fully under martial law, and citizens, alarmed at every rumor, saw flour prices starting to rise again.

On the other hand, farmers and townspeople who had fled to Revodan had become somewhat desensitized to such news; they exchanged their physical labor for bread, indifferent to the rising flour prices.

The city walls of New Town were largely completed, but the refugees couldn’t rest for a moment.

Following the plans of Mason, the Civil Guard Officer, labor teams began to build bulwarks on the outskirts of New Town and construct houses, pave roads, and lay sewer pipes inside the city.

What originally resembled a large military camp, “New Town,” was truly beginning to acquire an urban atmosphere.

New Town was like a massive construction site, where among the hard-working refugees, there was an inconspicuous one-eared man.

The one-eared man rarely spoke, making many assume he was mute. But his hard work was evident, so whether he was mute did not matter.

At noon when the bread was distributed, the one-eared man encountered another man and exchanged a few words.

That night, Ivan, who had been appointed temporary sheriff, rushed to the officer’s residence and cautiously woke the Mason Civil Guard Officer, reporting anxiously, “Sir, someone has gone missing!”

At this moment, the one-eared man referred to by Ivan had arrived at Forging Village, twenty kilometers away.

He was not called One-Ear; he used to be known as Yilsi, a name some from Vernge County might recall attached to a somewhat notorious bandit and smuggler.

“Great Thief Yilsi,” wanted for robbing an army carriage, had eventually fled into the wilderness, disappearing without a trace, but not without his family suffering the consequences.

Now, he often used his Herder language name, Bruhe, meaning Red Dog.

Red Dog knelt on one knee, staring at his boot tip, recounting the details of New Town in Revodan: “…the leader stationed in Revodan is called ‘Mason’…”

The person standing before him was none other than the Firemaker and the old Translator.

“Mason?” the Firemaker interrupted, “What does that mean?”

Red Dog racked his brains to explain, “It means a stonemason, a builder working with stones.”

“Pardon? He’s a stonemason?” asked the Firemaker.

“The names of the two-legged people are different from those of the tribes, having lost their literal meaning,” the old Translator slowly opened his eyes and spoke, “Go on, focus on the important details—start with the city defenses.”

Red Dog picked up a twig and began sketching on the ground: “There used to be no city on the south shore of Revodan. Now, this city, newly built by the stonemason leader, safeguards livestock, valuables, and food inside.”

“How many people? How much wealth?” the Firemaker squinted.

“Thousands of people, men and women. They fled to New Town, carrying their valuable belongings. Moreover, there’s plenty of food. Food delivered from the neighboring county is stored in New Town on the south shore, nourishing the people and also being transported southward.”

“How high are the city walls?”

“Not tall, quite low, only about one and a half men high,” Red Dog pointed with a twig to where the city wall met the river, “And there’s a vulnerability right here.”

“A vulnerability?” the Firemaker’s eyes widened.

Red Dog suggested, as if offering a strategy, “The stonemason leader only built half a circle of walls along the shore. There’s no tall wall or moat on the river side; I presume… it could be crossed by wading through the water.”

“How can one wade through the water with the temperature so cold?” the old Translator immediately reprimanded sharply and then asked, “How many are defending the city?”

“There are no troops; the defenders have all gone south.” Red Dog shook his head vigorously, suddenly looking up at the Firemaker before quickly dropping his gaze, “The Khan could move quickly, taking advantage of the defenders’ slow reaction to strike and capture it in one move.”

A hint of dissatisfaction appeared in the old Translator’s eyes, but he remained impassive.

“Did they discover you?” asked the Firemaker.

“Absolutely not!”

“What about others? Have they discovered anyone else?” asked the Firemaker again.

“Nor them either.”

“Very well, you may go and rest,” said the Firemaker and pulled out a gold tablet, throwing it to Red Dog.

Red Dog picked up the gold tablet, then returned it to the Firemaker, “Thank you, Great Khan, but I do not wish to keep the gold tablet.”

The Firemaker frowned, “Then what do you want?”

“I wish to be a servant within the Great Khan’s household! To be your eyes by day and your ears by night!”

The old Translator narrowed his eyes.

The Firemaker was momentarily stunned, then burst out laughing, “Then I grant you permission to stay by my side as a household servant.”

Nearly throwing his head between a pair of boots, Red Dog fervently thanked him.

“You may go.”

With profound gratitude, Red Dog left, leaving the Firemaker and the old Translator’s sight. As soon as he was out of view, his smile rapidly vanished, as if the subservient man from moments ago was not him.

Late into the night, the main force of the Terdon Tribe’s tents, which had just arrived in Forging Village, headed non-stop towards New Town in Revodan.

At the same time, the regrouped troops of Iron Peak County also advanced towards Revodan.