Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 14 Unexpected Situations (Part 1)

“Your academic performance is so good, you won’t be sent overseas.” Winters was really unwilling to accept this.

“I applied for an overseas assignment myself,” Bard said, surprising yet calm.

"What!" Winters jumped to his feet, staring at Bard, not understanding why his best friend would choose to walk down a path of death.

A thousand words in my heart condensed into one: "Why?"

“It’s alright, overseas assignments aren’t as bad as you think.” Bard patted the stone bench. “Sit down and let me explain.”

“You know my family situation,” Bud said slowly.

Winters nodded slightly.

This was a sensitive topic, so Winters never talked about it, but he knew that Bard's parents were tenants at the monastery.

“My parents were both tenant farmers; they were hardworking and devout good people. They worked very hard to raise me.” Bader’s expression was gentle yet solemn.

“I know,” Winters sighed.

The standard for evaluating a person should not be the amount of wealth they possess—but that's just a saying.

“Everyone else was sending gifts and making requests everywhere, but I didn’t. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to go, but because I didn’t have the money to smooth things over and make connections.” Bard was coldly ruthless.

There was no resentment in his tone: "It's not my parents' fault that we don't have money; it's not anyone else's fault that we have money to give gifts. That's just how it is, and although I'm dissatisfied, I can only accept it. So going overseas is an inevitable result."

“Even if we can’t stay in the United Province, we should still take a gamble! Go to another republic.” Winters said painfully and helplessly, “Overseas assignment is a dead end! In Veneta, some people would rather go to jail than go overseas. And the assignment isn’t just about money!”

“I’m not so outstanding that I can ignore money, and I’m not a spellcaster.” Bard continued to coldly expose the wound: “In fact, even those classmates who spend money to make arrangements, many of them are still sent overseas, let alone me? Someone has to go.”

“There’s always a chance, don’t give up!” Winters pleaded, even crossing the line: “I’ll lend you the money.”

“I’m not resigned to my fate; on the contrary, I’m fighting against it. From the moment I left the monastery, I’ve been battling fate, and this time I don’t want to wait for others to judge my destiny,” Bud said firmly. “I accept that I don’t have the freedom not to go overseas. But I at least want the freedom to choose where overseas to go.”

“After all, overseas assignments come in many different destinations.” Bard chuckled softly, then returned to his unhurried pace: “If I cling to a sliver of hope, I’ll end up in the worst place overseas. By applying to go overseas, at least I can choose.”

Bathed in the faint light of the moon and the pipe, Bard's expression was calm and resolute.

Bard had his reasons, but they were too cruel. Yet Bard was right; he chose the optimal solution within the worst possible outcome.

Winters felt a tightness in his chest, a mixture of indescribable resentment and helplessness.

He collapsed onto the stone table, swallowing back the thousands of words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Is it meaningful to criticize those employees who accepted bribes for personal gain?
Is it useful to scold those classmates who asked for favors and gave gifts?
Bud still had to go overseas in the end. Winters's thousand words turned into a sigh.

“Don’t be sad for me. I’m already content to go from being a servant in a monastery to an officer in the Army Officer School.” Bud described his future life as an overseas officer with ease and joy: “Going overseas is a good thing. I heard that the salary for overseas assignments is three times that of staying in the homeland. If I stay in the United Provinces, I can’t even afford a uniform. If I go abroad, at least I have a chance to help my parents redeem their land.”

The more Budd talked, the more upset Winters became.

He roared, startling several guard dogs in nearby houses.

The barking of dogs rose and fell.

Bud patted Winters' leg, indicating to his friend that he understood everything.

The two fell silent again, the only sounds being the chirping of insects and barking of dogs, and the puffing of Bud's cigarette. A short while later, footsteps approached from nearby.

A mocking voice reached Winters' ears.

"Well, you two, instead of patrolling properly on night duty, you're hiding here smoking? Were you the ones yelling and shouting just now?"

Two more military officers carrying halberds emerged from the darkness, one after the other. The one in front muttered as he walked, "What are you howling about in the middle of the night? Come on, help me start a fire too..."

Two second-year military cadets were on night duty at another gate. They were patrolling nearby when they heard someone shouting and saw flickering lights. So they came over to investigate and, incidentally, wanted to start a fire.

When they got to Winters and Bud, they saw the three stripes on Bud's uniform sleeve and realized that the two senior students were the ones smoking there.

The military academy's structure is modeled after the army's, and the army's class system is the same as the military academy's class system. The two second-year students who bumped into the senior student apologized repeatedly: "We're sorry, platoon leader. We're really sorry! We didn't know you were on patrol."

Winters was in a bad mood and didn't want to pay them any attention.

But Bard kindly waved to them, not only refraining from reprimanding them but also helping them light their cigarettes.

However, Bard had already smoked almost all his tobacco and was unable to light the tobacco in the two fighting bowls.

Winters sighed and reluctantly took the pipe from his junior, Bard.

He had already mastered the art of ignition after using two consecutive ignition techniques.

The two junior students, probably never having experienced a spellcaster igniting a fire with magic before, stared wide-eyed.

"Let's go." Winters shoved the pipe into his junior's hand with annoyance.

The two junior students thanked them repeatedly and hurriedly ran away.

The two were also wondering to themselves: What's wrong with these two third-grade class monitors? Why aren't they sleeping in the duty room? What are they doing patrolling?

After the two junior students had walked away, Bud put his pipe away.

He stood up and straightened his clothes. He said to Winters, "Let's go for a few more laps, so our juniors don't laugh at us for only knowing how to slack off."

Winters lay on the stone table, his legs dangling in the air. He had no interest in patrolling: "I'll sit a little longer, then go back to the duty room to sleep. It's the last night anyway, I'm skipping my post."

“Then you can rest here for now.” Bud didn’t insist. He wanted to take one last look at the school: “This is my last shift. I won’t have the chance to go back to school for night duty again. I’ll go take a few more laps around and come back to find you later.”

After saying that, Bard picked up his halberd and left, his footsteps fading into the distance.

Winters didn't say anything.

He was deeply affected by the fact that Bud was about to be sent overseas. For the first time, he had the real feeling that he might never see his best friend again after tomorrow.

He lay on his back on the stone table, listening to the chirping of insects around him, his mind blank.

After a while, Bard's footsteps returned.

When Winters heard that Bud had returned, he felt it was pointless to stay there all alone—he decided to go for a couple more walks with Bud.

So he sat up straight from the stone table, smiling, and asked, "How come you..."

Wait! The person who came isn't Bard!
(End of this chapter)