Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 131 Funeral and Militia

The young men dug the grave the night before. It was in the cemetery of the Wolf Town church, next to the resting place of other old Dussacs.

At this moment, these young people, who were born and raised after their fathers moved here, are standing behind the grave with shovels, waiting to add soil back in.

A few pine planks and a handful of nails made up the old hunter's coffin. Winters, Girard, and two other old Dussacs carried the coffin all the way to the cemetery.

They placed the coffin beside the grave and stepped aside. The number of people who came to say goodbye to Ralph was unexpectedly large; not only Dusa residents, but also villagers from both the east and west banks of the river were present at the funeral. Even some Protestants traveled from the villages of South New and North New, which are farther from the town center.

When the villagers from the other four villages paid their respects to Bell, Winters learned that the hunter Ralph was also a veterinarian, herbalist, and forest rescuer, and that all the villagers from the other four villages who came to the funeral had benefited from his kindness.

Priest Anthony, dressed in full black vestments, presided over the ceremony. Holding the Gospel, he recited long passages of scripture with intonation and led the mourners in prayer. He then read the Catholic funeral prayer once more.

Having spent a long time with Ralph, Winters never considered the respectable hunter to be a Catholic, much less his son. The hunter and his son did not attend Sunday services, and there were no religious items in their home.

But when the old hunter passed away, he was given a Catholic funeral, which left those who knew the inside story at a loss for words.

After Father Anthony finished reciting the prayer, he looked around and asked, "Is there anyone who would like to say a few words?"

Just as Gerard was about to speak, Sergei stepped out of the crowd and stood in front of the coffin. It was too late for him to stop him.

Gerard Mitchell's heart leaped into his throat.

It should be noted that only half of the disputes and fights among the people of Dusa are caused by strong liquor, while the other half are caused by the custom of "saying a few words" at funerals.

Funerals and the deceased are considered especially sacred by the people of Dusa, and they do not have a tradition of only offering kind words.

With the utmost respect for death, mourners speak their minds freely in front of the coffin, without concealing any true thoughts.

The consequence of speaking frankly and without reservation is often a big argument, followed by the hot-tempered Dussac resorting to fists, and in some cases even escalating to knife fights, gunfights, and more funerals.

Gerard's biggest worry right now is that Sergei might say something inappropriate, and he doesn't want to see any argument or anyone get hurt.

“Ralph Pradov, old Yermo’s second son, you all know him without me introducing him.” Dusac, who always walked with his chest puffed out, was gone, and the old man’s eyes were filled with tears.

Sergei choked up as he said, “Yermonovich was our old brother. All the Dussacks who were old enough to be on the field had served with him. We fought side by side, cutting down peasants and northerners. We were sent south together to kill rebels and fight the Hed barbarians. I’ve never seen anyone better at archery than him… In the battle at Shitang Ferry, I don’t know how many Dussacks died. My horse was impaled, and my thigh was pierced by a rebel spearman. If Yermonovich hadn’t carried me out, I would have died there too.”

As he spoke, the old man broke down in tears. The villagers from the other villages had more nuanced expressions, but many old Dussacs were already secretly wiping away tears.

Sergei's son, Vasika, ran out to help him up, but the old man insisted on finishing his sentence: "Our old brothers, every one of them who dies is one less. I regret it! I regret not understanding before! I regret it! Yermonovich is a true hero, a true Dusak. We ostracized him before, we wouldn't let him into the village, we were bastards! But he has paid his debt, and the past should be wiped clean. Dusak's son should be Dusak, and Ralfnovich should be Dusak too. That's all I have to say! Anyone who disagrees, I'll be waiting for you at home!"

After saying a few words, old Sergei shook off his son's hand and strode back to where he had been standing. Winters noticed that the other villagers didn't seem to care much about what the old man said afterward, but the people of Dusa were clearly quite surprised.

It seemed that Sergei's speech was too impactful, and no other Dusa people said anything. However, a few villagers from the other four villages spoke about the old hunter's kindness to them and their gratitude.

After this final procedure, the old hunter's coffin was lowered into the grave. The young hunter, Bell, wept as he sprinkled the first handful of soil, then shovelful after shovelful of earth onto Ralph's coffin.

As the old hunter's grave was gradually filled in, some people couldn't help but cry softly, and Winters was also deeply saddened.

The old hunter's left arm was barely sewn onto the corpse with needle and thread. Because the body was "too incomplete," no lady dared to handle the needle, so Winters and Carman had to do it themselves.

Following the trail of blood, the militia who arrived later discovered the dead lion and its cub in a cave. In addition, they found half a fresh corpse, and... the head of the youngest son of the Rostov family.

There were also some scraps of clothing, but those didn't matter.

It can be concluded that this was also a man-eating lion. The village of Dusa was not attacked by one wild beast that night, but by two.

The steed Teleqing fought a giant bear to protect the herd, but was no match for it. When it was finally found, its internal organs had been eaten, which is consistent with the bear's habits.

The couple who were having a tryst in the woods unfortunately became the prey of a giant lion. The lion dragged away and ate the girl, and after feasting, it killed the boy who had chased after them.

This explains Ralph's long-standing question: why would the beast, having already eaten its fill of horse meat, still prey on the couple in Dusa Village?

On the day the old hunter and the giant lion perished together, the giant lion had actually killed a villager from Beixin Village and dragged the body back to its lair to eat—which was the half-body that the militiamen found.

Upon learning that a girl from Beixin Village had gone into the mountains to chop firewood and had not returned, Ralph immediately set out to search for her. When he discovered the tracks of a giant beast, he sent his son to seek help from the garrison lieutenant, while he himself continued to follow the tracks.

What happened next caught everyone off guard.

The knowledgeable Brother Reid identified the giant lion that died at the hands of the old hunter as likely the legendary "cave lion".

This giant lion got its name from being found in cave paintings, and there are also ivory statues and clay sculptures to prove its existence.

However, the problem is that the murals and sculptures depicting cave lions were created by prehistoric humans. Some theologians even believe that the murals may have been created before the Tower of Babel was built.

Therefore, even the world-traveling monk, Brother Rhett, dared not confirm that the creature was the so-called "cave lion," because no one had ever seen what a cave lion looked like. Furthermore, no historical records mention such a behemoth.

If that thing really is a cave lion, then this species has a history of at least several thousand or even tens of thousands of years, which is simply unimaginable.

But the old mendicant monk was certain of one thing: that thing was definitely not an ordinary lion. Of everyone in Wolf Town, only Brother Reid had ever seen a live lion—he claimed to be the only one.

The old monk insisted that ordinary female lions didn't look like this, nor were they this large. He had never seen such a giant lion, either in the East or the West. He suspected that only the Nemesis Lion from the Twelve Trials of Hercules in ancient mythology could possess such a size.

Winters had only ever seen images of lions on military banners, as had the old Dussacs. Others had never even seen a picture of a lion, let alone a live one.

Therefore, Brother Reid possessed absolute authority, and even if others were skeptical, they could only accept the old monk's explanation.

The old mendicant monk wrote letters to some naturalists and entrusted them to traveling merchants to be delivered to the Gevort Cathedral through church channels. But no one knew when they would receive a reply.

The cumbersome communication method reminded Winters of where he was—after living in Wolftown for some time, he had almost forgotten that this was the edge of the "civilized world".

Winters took this opportunity to send a letter home, again through Brother Reed's church channels. The letter itself was a message, and he cautiously kept it brief, simply inquiring about his family's situation.

But the verification work was not urgent. Another heavy matter weighed on the minds of the people of Wolf Town: Why would such a giant beast come to such a small place as Wolf Town?

Winters thought even deeper: this was a lioness with cubs.

This means... there is at least one male lion still in existence.

Even going back to that giant bear, it must have had a father and a mother, right?
Could there be even more gigantic beasts deep within the forest, in places untouched by humans, in the majestic mountains beneath that golden peak? Could these two encounters be just the beginning?
Thinking of this, Winters couldn't help but shudder. He suddenly realized that although the two ferocious beasts had been killed, the Wolf Town militia could not be disbanded. Not only could they not be disbanded, but militia training had to be made a regular practice.

Furthermore, an armory should be established, and some "real weapons" should be purchased. In this way, when encountering similar situations again, the people of Wolf Town will no longer need to use javelins and sabers to deal with ancient beasts.

Otherwise, if another beast plague were to occur after he leaves his post, it would be very difficult for Mayor Mitchell, who is over fifty years old, to completely reorganize the militia.

Moreover, the great hero who dealt with this beast plague—the old hunter Ralph—is no longer alive. Where can the people of this remote town find another spellcaster officer?

After Winters shared his ideas with Girard, he received Girard's approval and strong support. Mayor Girard Mitchell not only supported the normalization of the militia but also strongly recommended the formation of a formal security force in Wolftown.

For a town, a sheriff and a security guard are essential law enforcement forces. Sheriffs are generally full-time, while security guard members can be full-time or part-time, depending on the size of the town and its budget.

Wolf Town is in a rather awkward situation. Although it's called a town, its permanent population is less than ten people, it only has two dirt roads, one running horizontally and the other vertically, and it has no city walls.

Incidentally, in Common, the word "burger" is derived from the word "burg" (wall), meaning a person who lives inside a walled city.

Wolftown in Ghevorden has nothing, but legally it is indeed a "town." However, before Winters took office, it had neither a sheriff nor any security personnel.

Therefore, when Girard served as both mayor and resident official, the town government had virtually no law enforcement capabilities.

Even for trivial matters like "lumberjacks fighting with villagers," Girard would personally take up his machete, or he would have to go to Dusa village to ask his old subordinates for help.

Moreover, such incidents as "lumberjacks fighting with villagers" were actually quite frequent, happening almost every week, much to the annoyance of Mayor Mitchell.

Even Winters, who had only recently taken office, encountered this once, when several young men from the village of Hedong were beaten black and blue. At the time, Winters was busy guarding against the beast plague, so he reprimanded both sides and then let them go.

In order to realize his dream of making Wolftown a truly prosperous town, Gerald Mitchell very much hopes to establish a formal security force.

In his view, a security guard might not be necessary, but it's essential. Maintaining security is crucial to attracting more people to reside permanently in the town center. Ideally, guard members should be full-time, but part-time is acceptable.

Mayor Mitchell also offered to help Winters resolve its budget issues. The town directly funded the arming and hiring of a security force.

The officers stationed in the newly reclaimed lands wielded considerable power, as did the town mayors. The Palatine Council was only concerned with collecting taxes; as long as the taxes were paid, nothing else mattered. The town mayors possessed almost the same power as the imperial tax collectors.

Moreover, because all property rights belonged to the army, the people in the newly reclaimed land had to pay taxes for almost everything they did. They had to pay taxes for gathering firewood in the mountains, for fishing in the river, for setting nets to catch birds, and so on. And these taxes were in addition to the basic agricultural tax and poll tax.

For example, a hunter's family, in addition to paying head tax and road tax, also had to pay taxes for hunting in the mountains. They needed to provide eight deer hides and eight fox pelts as hunting tax each year, or pay three large silver coins.

As for the Mitchell family, they own a small boat, so regardless of whether Gerald Mitchell fishes or not, they still have to pay fishery tax.

These additional taxes are levied annually, and some are mandatory, such as the firewood tax. Farmers have to pay this tax even if they only burn their own straw all year round, making it essentially a poll tax.

Winters could hardly believe his ears when he heard Brother Reed casually discussing these "exorbitant taxes." The taxes on the newly reclaimed lands of Palatine were completely different from those of Venetia, almost worlds apart.

The ruling class of the Republic of Veneta largely left the rural areas to their own devices. The Republic of Merchants, on the other hand, is inherently calculating, accustomed to weighing everything on a scale, viewing everything as a business opportunity.

The Commercial Republic needs currency—real gold and silver, precious metals that can be traded. In addition, the Republic requires manpower and supplies to maintain its trading fleet and urban handicrafts.

What farmers lacked most was precious metals, and small households couldn't save much money. Farmers traded with each other through barter for many years. The smallest silver coin was too large a face value for farmers and had to be cut into smaller pieces for use in the countryside—these were called "silver coins".

Therefore, in the eyes of the rulers of the Republic of Venetia, the cost of squeezing money from the peasants was simply too high. For every silver coin squeezed from a peasant, two silver coins had to be spent on the standing army responsible for suppressing the peasants.

What a loss! It's a complete rip-off! This is a deal that's guaranteed to lose you a fortune!
Moreover, frequent peasant rebellions would disrupt the supply of materials and manpower to cities.

Therefore, taxes in the rural areas of the Republic of Venetia were mainly levied in kind, and the governor was only responsible for collecting taxes annually and suppressing bandits (because bandits would rob caravans on the Cuche Road, which was very bad for business).

All the wealth of the noble Venetia Commercial Republic resides in the city, the city, and the city.

The city is the key. As long as the city has a continuous supply of resources and manpower, whether the farmers live or die is not of much concern to Governor Vineta.

However, precisely because of this, the farmers in the Republic of Venetia have the lowest taxes among all the republics; they only need to pay a fixed amount of grain each year.

At other times? Let them fend for themselves, don't cause trouble. [Note: However, farmers in the Republic of Veneta do not enjoy any civil rights, such as being prohibited from carrying weapons in cities.]
“Isn’t this rebellion? How can this be tolerated?” Winters said incredulously to the old mendicant monk, “If this kind of tax were levied on the farmers of Veneta, the city of Aquamarine would be set on fire by the rebels.”

“Young man, what do you think Dusac is good for? Every town in the newly reclaimed lands has a Dusac village. Why do you think the Council of Palatour would go to such lengths to arrange it this way? And why is Gerard Mitchell from Dusac the mayor?” Brother Reid narrowed his eyes, smiled, and patted Winters on the shoulder: “You are too young and too simple.”

"Uh... Could it be that Dusac was specifically created to suppress peasants?" Winters was almost speechless with shock: "But I think Dusac Village in Wolf Town has a pretty good relationship with the other villages?"

"Is it alright?" the old cultivator asked with a smile. "Is it really alright? Kid, I told you you had a slow political sense, but you didn't believe me. If you put some of your martial arts skills into politics, you'd be a promising talent."

“It’s…okay…?” Winters stammered when asked. He thought about it carefully: “The two Protestant villages were indeed not very friendly to the Dusa people, and the attitude of the other two villages is also a bit complicated now that I think about it.”

The old monk laughed heartily: "That's right, politics is very subtle. Do you know what the other four villages call Dusa Village behind their backs?"

"Isn't it just called Dusa Village?"

“Wrong, they call it ‘Tartar’ village. Tartars are barbarians, people who eat raw meat and drink blood.” The old mendicant monk circled his head and recited a few lines of ancient text with intonation: “Do you understand?”

“Hmm…” Winters didn’t know how to respond for a moment.

"The relationship between the villages in Wolf Village is actually quite good," Brother Reid chuckled, taking a leisurely sip of Mitchell's homemade wine. "Gillard Mitchell may seem rough and uncouth, but he's wise beyond his years and quite adept at leniency. He turns a blind eye to the other villages fishing and hunting rabbits without paying taxes, and to their illegal cultivation of small plots of land."

The Mitchell family also had a capable wife, which naturally eased tensions between the villages. Small towns like Wolftown were plentiful in the newly reclaimed lands; some governed with leniency, while others were strict. I've traveled to every small town in the new reclaimed lands, and speaking of excessively harsh places, I've witnessed massacres of entire villages! Tyrannical rule is as fierce as a tiger; from the Far East to the Near East and here, the whole world is like this.”

I love writing settings; it makes me happy.

The words "citizen" and "city wall" are German puns. The etymology I saw was quite interesting. The English word "hamburger" comes from the German word "Hamburg," which is composed of "Ham" and "Burg," meaning "Ham protected by walls." The mayor, "Burgermeister," is simply the "Lord of the Citizens," or, in a more dramatic way, "Master of the Citizens."

Because I wanted to adjust my sleep schedule, I went to bed at midnight last night without any problems. I spent the whole day writing this chapter, so I don't know whether to count it as yesterday's or today's. I'll try to write a little more in each chapter to make up for lost time.

Thank you to all the readers who voted for the book before;
Thank you to readers Tianjingtou, 54yue, and Wujiushao Xiaogao for the recommendation votes. Thank you everyone.
Thank you to the following readers for their recommendation votes: Wujiushaoxiaogao, Dandingdehuiguo, Zhonghuajia de Huangtuzi, 20181010005850390, Behere370, Jiangxue Diaoweng, Lixiangsanxun de Moudashu, 54yue, Tianjingtou, 20191007064305842, Kunkun, Yueyezhifeng, Yanyunsan, and Kamen Rider Shuangfen. Thank you all.

I remember every reader who voted for the book, and I'm truly grateful for their continued support.



(End of this chapter)