Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 136 Chase
The officer on horseback looked down at him and shouted sternly, "Useless trash! A huge smuggling caravan has vanished in your jurisdiction! Are you...fucked for dereliction of duty, or were you in cahoots? Speak up!"

The lieutenant remained silent, his eyes practically blazing with fire.

The guard beside the colonel noticed the lieutenant's gaze. He subtly spurred his horse forward, placing himself between the lieutenant and the colonel, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

The officer assumed Ma Qian was just an incompetent junior officer, unaware that he was dealing with a spellcaster on the verge of losing control.

Winters Montagne is about to lose control.

From the moment he was taken to Palatour, Winters' negative emotions had been accumulating without him even realizing it.

Even during the toughest times on the islands, he had people to support him. But in Wolf Town, he had only himself.

This was the moment when his willpower was at its weakest. If the officer showed any hostility, the Venetian's remaining rationality would evaporate completely, leaving only his violent and cruel instincts.

The warhorse keenly sensed the burning anger and shifted its forelegs restlessly.

Ms. Michal instinctively grabbed Mr. Montagne's arm.

The field officer noticed the lieutenant's clenched fists and felt a surge of anger himself. He was about to continue teaching this defiant junior officer a lesson when some inexplicable intuition stopped him from doing so.

Many figures came running from Mitchell Manor.

Hearing Ms. Littlecher's scream, the Dussacks grabbed their weapons and rushed out. Leading the way was Sergei, the old man carrying a sickle he'd picked up from somewhere.

Upon getting closer, Sergei realized that something was wrong.

Even if Dusak didn't recognize his mother, he wouldn't mistake a military uniform. Old Sergei cursed under his breath: "It's a military officer, and a high-ranking one at that."

Sergei Morozov was a fearless Dusak, but his legs went weak whenever he saw an officer's uniform.

But now he has no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it.

The old man mustered his courage and stood next to the lieutenant, unconsciously swallowing hard, and shouted with a fierce but weak voice, "Hey! What do you want?"

The officer snorted disdainfully, gestured to the guard beside him, and didn't even glance at the farmer in front of him.

Little did he know that his posture actually reassured Sergei quite a bit.

Dusak followed one after another, and each of them was startled by the sight of the officer's uniform. They looked at each other, speechless.

The officer's guards grabbed the silver whistle hanging around his neck, put it to their lips, and blew it loudly.

The cavalry outside the manor also noticed something was amiss inside. When a sharp whistle sounded, the cavalrymen quickly approached their commander.

Except for a small number of cavalrymen who rode straight to the scene along the road, the rest of the cavalrymen leaped over the fences and surrounded the field from both flanks. They galloped through the soybean field without any regard for the consequences, trampling and crushing large swaths of soybeans.

The smaller cavalry force, on the other hand, subtly surrounded the Dusaks.

This is a true cavalry unit, not riders or mounted infantry, but cavalry that has undergone rigorous combat training.

Their swords were not casually hung on their waists, but rather tucked between their horse's back and thighs, ready to be drawn at any moment.

The cavalrymen moved forward little by little, compressing the space for the Dussaks. The Dussaks, carrying farm tools, were somewhat flustered, but not yet out of control.

Old Dusak Alexei slowly approached Sergei, whispering in his old buddy's ear, "Vladiminovich, see that? At least half a company!"

“I’m counting, there’s not even half a company,” Sergei replied impatiently. “Thirty-odd horses, that’s only a platoon.”

"What to do?"

"How the hell should I know!"

As the Dussacs were whispering among themselves, several figures hurried over from the manor.

“I am the mayor of this town.” The crowd spontaneously made way for him, and Girard walked up to the officer’s horse: “May I ask what Wolftown Town can do for you?”

Gerard was slightly out of breath, clearly having run all the way after hearing the news. Seeing Captain Mitchell arrive, the Dussacks all breathed a sigh of relief, a huge weight lifted from their hearts.

"You're the town mayor?" The officer glanced at the burly man in front of him.

"Yes."

"Do you know that a large group of smugglers crossed the Big Horn River from Wolf Town yesterday?"

"This...I was unaware of it."

"The officers stationed in Wolf Town have neglected their duties," the officer said coldly. "Have you reported or denounced them?"

Girard's expression froze.

“Colonel, I cannot agree with your statement.” Another voice with a slight accent came from the crowd: “Everyone present and all the gentry of this town can testify that Mayor Mitchell and the resident official of Montagne have always been diligent and conscientious in their duties and have never neglected their responsibilities. Therefore, there is no need to report them.”

Sometime later, the old mendicant monk came to Winters' side. He subtly squeezed Winters' arm and took the riding crop from Winters' hand.

The old monk walked up to the colonel, handed him the riding crop, and wore a friendly clergyman's smile: "I am Reid, a monk from this diocese. I wonder how to address you, Colonel?"

"I'm not a colonel, you can call me Lieutenant Colonel Caster." The lieutenant colonel took the riding crop and cracked it a few times, then sneered and asked, "So diligent and conscientious that you didn't even notice a large group of smugglers crossing the border? So you conspired beforehand to pretend you didn't know?"

"The Dajiao River within the territory of Langtun is over seventy kilometers long, with vast stretches of uninhabited wasteland along its banks. How could Lieutenant Montagne possibly manage such a long river all by himself?"

"Although the river is long, there are only three fording sites."

“But the three crossing points are at least twenty kilometers apart, and the northernmost crossing point is more than forty kilometers away from here. A round trip would take a whole day, but it is closer to Blackwater Town.” The old monk said cryptically, “If you think Lieutenant Montagne can handle this group of smugglers by himself, why did you bring your elite men here?”

Lieutenant Colonel Caster was speechless.

At this moment, a large number of people arrived from the manor, and the farmers who were harvesting tobacco also noticed the strangeness at the manor gate.

Hearing that a group of people of unknown origin had detained Mayor Mitchell and Lieutenant Montagne, the villagers and laborers clamored to come and help with their farm tools.

For the disorganized farmers, numbers are confidence, and now is the busiest time of year at Mitchell Estate.

Driven by herd mentality, more and more men and women flocked to the manor, while those Dussacs who hadn't been able to arrive at the first opportunity also rode over on horseback.

The crowds were enormous, creating a rather frightening scene.

Not only Lieutenant Colonel Caster and his cavalry, but also Gerard and Dussac were taken aback, and things were getting increasingly out of control.

Brother Reid looked at Girard: "Mr. Mitchell, please take a few men and persuade everyone to go back. Time is precious, don't miss the opportunity to collect the tobacco leaves."

Gerard was taken aback at first, then nodded and hurriedly left with a dozen or so old Dussacs.

"Lieutenant Colonel, according to you, the smuggling caravan has already crossed the border. So it's pointless to dwell on whose responsibility it is. The most important thing is how to solve the problem, isn't it? Please feel free to tell us what Wolftown can offer you gentlemen." The old monk then looked at Castor and said in a relaxed tone, "You know, we Wolftown people, who hate evil as if it were our enemy, have always been irreconcilable with smugglers. We wish we could eat their flesh and wear their skin."

Lieutenant Colonel Caster was silent for a moment, then said coldly, "Please provide lodging for me and my men. We'll take care of our own food. Our horses need to rest in covered areas, and don't feed them random hay; feed them concentrated feed."

The lieutenant colonel's requests were not complicated, and the old monk readily agreed.

Caster gathered the cavalry together: "Those fellows can't get far. Let's rest and recuperate here tonight, and catch up with them in one fell swoop tomorrow!"

After dismissing the farmers who wanted to help, Girard returned to the main gate, where Brother Reid explained things to him in detail.

Gerard listened and nodded, then led Lieutenant Colonel Caster and the cavalry to another estate with vacant houses to stay overnight.

"What's your name?" Lieutenant Colonel Custer asked the lieutenant before leaving Mitchell Manor.

Winters had regained most of his sanity, but his anger had not subsided: "Winters Montagne."

"Military rank?"

"second lieutenant."

“I’ll remember you, Lieutenant Montagne.” The lieutenant colonel pointed his riding crop at Winters’ nose. “You’re not happy about it, are you? Tomorrow, bring all the men you can find and come with me to pursue them. I’d like to see just how capable you are.”

After saying that, Lieutenant Colonel Custer turned and walked away without looking back.

The lieutenant colonel's bodyguard gave Winters a deep look before turning his horse and leaving.

"Judging from the officer's words, we have to set off before dawn." Sergei discussed with the other old Dussaks, "We have to notify each Dussak tonight. Let's split up and go find them, and make sure we notify everyone, so that the old and young men can have their horses ready tonight."

Alexei shook his head a few times: "Should we go and inform the farmers? Call the militia from the other villages as well, so there are more of them."

"Shut up!" Sergei showed no mercy to his old comrade. "Those officers all have four legs, but do farmers have horses? Are they going to chase after us on two legs?"

Alexei awkwardly shut his mouth.

Sergei clicked his tongue and continued, "The round trip might take more than a day. When you inform the men, tell them to have their wives prepare some dry food and water to take with them. Let's prepare for three days."

As Sergei was pondering this, he suddenly remembered that Lieutenant Montagne was still by his side; it was none of his business to make the decision.

He quickly looked at Winters: "Lieutenant, I didn't mean anything by it. Whether or not to call the peasant militia is up to you. If you say we need them, I'll go and inform them, I'll do whatever you say. But actually, having Dusac is enough, I guarantee it will make you look good, bringing them along would just be a hindrance..." "No need to inform them." After saying that, Winters also left.

Alexei looked at the bean field before him and sighed, "That officer's men are really good at riding; they can jump over fences that are over a meter high without hesitation... It's just a pity about these beans, they're almost ripe..."

……

The next morning.

The sky turned from black to gray, and then gradually began to turn blue.

"Damn it! What? They got away?" Lieutenant Colonel Caster cursed angrily, "[Palatu]!"

"It's not that they ran away," old Sergei said awkwardly. "They just can't be found."

"Then...didn't he just run away?" Enraged, Castor slammed his fist on the wooden stake. "That little bastard had some backbone, didn't he? He just ran away? Ran away? Damn it!"

The Dussacs stood to the side, their eyes fixed on the ground, none daring to look up.

Caster brandished his sword and roared, "Chase him! Bring him back! Neglecting his duty and abandoning his post! I'll kill him!"

The lieutenant colonel's bodyguard cautiously reminded him, "Sir, we still have to chase after 'that thing'... That Veneta can't have gone far. Send someone to Zhevodan and let the others go and capture it."

Lieutenant Colonel Castells grew increasingly angry: "Who was the last person to see Winters Montagne yesterday?"

The Dussacs exchanged glances and information, before finally calling over the blacksmith, Misha. The old blacksmith hadn't participated in the chase because of a leg injury.

"Was the last person you saw a deserter, Montagne?" the lieutenant colonel asked.

The old blacksmith scratched his head: "Sir, I don't know if I'll be the last one to see the lieutenant."

"What does he want from you?"

"Take the sword he made."

"Is there anything else?"

"Gone."

Did he say where he was going?

"I do not know."

Castor knew he wouldn't get anything out of the blacksmith, so he gritted his teeth and asked, "You're all protecting him, aren't you?"

"No, how could I dare?" The old blacksmith waved his hands repeatedly.

Castor let out a furious roar and cleaved the wooden ladder beside him in two with a single stroke of his sword.

"You wait, once I catch him, none of those who protected him will escape!" Caster glared hatefully at the group of Dussacs, then forcefully shoved his sword back into its sheath. "Let's go!"

"Reporting to you, sir," the old blacksmith scratched his head again, "the lieutenant also seems to have bought a bag of nails..."

……

At Mitchell Estate, Miss Little Cherke hugged her mother and cried bitterly, "Mother, is Mr. Montagne really gone?"

Mrs. Mitchell patted her youngest daughter's back gently and said earnestly, "Lieutenant Montagne never belonged here. We shouldn't be sad; we should pray for him. Pray that he can return safely to his father and mother."

……

"Sigh, why did they leave like that?" Sergei sighed, leading his horse. "I don't know where they went."

Gerard glared at Sergei: "Stop talking."

"Sigh." Sergei rarely talked back to his older brother like this: "I just wanted to see the lieutenant off, so let us see him off too."

……

Brother Reid, is Brother Winters really gone?

The old mendicant monk stroked his beard and said calmly, “You must understand, Pierre. Leaving might actually be a good thing for Winters. [Selica’s words] You must know that misfortune may be a blessing in disguise, and a blessing may be a misfortune in disguise.”

……

Many others—Father Kaman, the young horseman Anglu, the young hunter Bell—were unaware of this news at the moment.

……

Before setting off, Caster selected three of his best riders. He said to the first one, "Take this note to Zhevodan and make sure they send out their fastest horses to search along the way."

The lieutenant colonel then instructed the remaining two men: "The Venetas will definitely return to Veneta. You two go directly to notify all the garrisons along the route to Veneta and have them set up roadblocks along the way..."

As Lieutenant Colonel Castells was still giving instructions, he and his cavalrymen heard an excited shout: "Lieutenant Montagne is back!"

"Where?" Castor roared in fury.

"Over there!" A Dusak excitedly pointed to the hills a hundred meters away: "Rejčík!"

The lieutenant colonel looked up and saw a red steed leap up from behind the hills and charge down like thunder. The rider became clearer and clearer in his vision, and in the blink of an eye, he was in front of Caster.

"Lieutenant Montagne!" Caster roared angrily, "You've deserted your post..."

"Boom"

"Boom"

Lieutenant Colonel Custer's words were interrupted by two heavy thuds as he landed on the ground.

The second lieutenant untied his saddlebag and threw it in front of the lieutenant colonel.

A head fell out of the blood-soaked saddlebag and rolled all the way to Custer's feet. The lieutenant colonel looked down and met a pair of lifeless eyes.

"The car is west of Fengpingdu. Go and move it yourself."

The lieutenant wiped his nose. He had been riding a horse all night, sweating and being exposed to the wind; he seemed to have caught a cold.

……

The peace agreement between the Had and the Paratul stipulated that the Paratul would not cultivate the land west of the Great Horn River, and the Had would not graze their livestock on the land east of the Red River.

Thus, the two sides maintained a nearly 100-kilometer "no man's land" between them.

The Dajiao River thus became the natural boundary on the west side of Langtun Town.

Thirty kilometers west of Fengpingdu, Caster found the smugglers' convoy.
The cargo was intact, and the fully armed corpses were scattered everywhere, except that none of them had anything on their necks.

Judging from the traces at the scene, what Lieutenant Montagne did was simple: he rushed into the convoy, killed half of the people, and then began to hunt down the other half.

Castor's guards grew increasingly terrified as they looked at him.

"My lord," the guard said to Caster with lingering fear, "I think that guy might have really intended to kill me."

"Damn it!" the lieutenant colonel cursed, slapping his thigh. "That bastard didn't leave a single one alive!"

……

Before the Castells cavalry departed from Mitchell Manor.

Castor found Winters, who was washing his hands.

"Get ready. Wolf Village is about to conscript a hundred men," the lieutenant colonel said.

The lieutenant stopped: "Are you threatening me?"

“Kid, I’m returning a favor to you. You only realize how important it is when it’s time to conscript men.” Caster sneered, “Whether this happened today or not, Wolf Town would still conscript men; it was decided long ago. The sooner you knew, the more you could have done.”

The lieutenant colonel left, but the second lieutenant was still vigorously washing his hands, over and over again.

Winters felt a sense of fear, not because of the killing, but because he felt... peace after the killing.

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(End of this chapter)