Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 16 Awakening the Sleeping Tiger (Part 1)

"I didn't do it!" Winters cried out, feeling wronged and aggrieved. He stumbled through the darkness, "I only burned the thief's hair!"

"It's nothing, you didn't do it."

"Look at what you're saying... I really didn't do it!"

“I know, it definitely wasn’t you. The fire is far from here.” Bard, carrying two halberds, led the way, calmly clearing Winters of the blame.

Winters had a very unlucky day. During the day, he was struck by a bolt from the blue by Ike, and at night, a female thief came after him, leaving him with injuries to his left shoulder, right arm, and feet.

The two quickly walked back to their posts at the North Gate. The junior students on duty had already heard the whistle and seen the strange phenomenon in the sky.

They assumed it was a patrolling guard who had seen a fire and blew the whistle. The short instructor on night duty was also woken up and was anxiously waiting at the door for something.

Therefore, they were all quite surprised when they saw Winters return with a bloody arm.

"What's going on?" The short instructor on duty was completely bewildered.

“There was a thief. He ran out from the direction of the school and I intercepted him. He pulled out a knife and ran away.” Winters had already prepared his words on the way back.

He decided to be smart and not mention anything related to "fire" for now.

Furthermore, women should not be mentioned, lest unnecessary misunderstandings arise and further words be wasted.

"Who dares to act recklessly on our army's territory?" the short instructor on duty roared in anger.

Winters thought to himself: He really is a daredevil; I almost lost my life too.

However, the thief had already disappeared, and for the time being, no one could do anything to her.

The immediate priority is obviously to treat Winters' injuries and figure out where the fire started.

The short instructor immediately took Winters to the staff duty room, where he took out a flint and tinder to start a fire, but failed to light it after several attempts.

Winters sighed and silently activated the Ignite spell.

The oil lamp was lit, but the light was still too dim.

The short instructor asked Winters' younger students to bring over a few more oil lamps.

Winters then remembered the female thief's dagger. Daggers are made of metal, and as long as they are not rusted, they can be used as a casting material for the Light spell.

He took out his dagger and, using the same hand gestures as when casting the Fire spell, activated Tesla's Light spell.

Magic was infused into the surface of the dagger, and the metal, after being infused with magic, released the magic in the form of visible light, instantly illuminating the room.

Taking advantage of the light, the short instructor quickly took out a small pair of scissors and hurriedly cut open the right sleeve of Winters' summer uniform.

Winters's blood had congealed, sticking the fabric tightly to the wound.

"But I gritted my teeth and endured it." The short instructor warned in a muffled voice, "This must be torn off; it can't be left on the wound. Otherwise, the wound will fester, and you'll die from a high fever."

The more than ten-year-long [sovereignty war] allowed the army to accumulate a wealth of experience in dealing with sharp weapon injuries, which was eventually summarized and incorporated into the teaching content of health classes.

Winters nodded, and the short instructor didn't waste any more words.

With a determined look, he ripped the fabric stuck to the wound off with a sharp "whoosh."

Winters was in so much pain he almost convulsed; his previously clotted wound started bleeding again, and blood dripped down his arm and onto the bed.

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves came from afar, growing louder as they approached, and soon stopped at the door of the duty room. A junior student pushed open the door and entered: "Report! The horses have arrived."

After the guard on duty noticed the strange phenomenon in the sky, he immediately woke up the short instructor on duty.

The short instructor immediately determined that the fire was coming from the port. He led a guard out of the house and ran along the main road toward the fire to find out what was going on.

As he ran, the short instructor realized he had made a foolish mistake. The fire was clearly quite a distance from the school. How long would it take to reach the school on foot?
So the two of them slunk back.

Upon their return, the short instructor sent a cavalry cadet to the school stables to fetch a horse. While he waited anxiously, like a cat on hot bricks, Winters and Bud returned to the North Gate.

The short instructor ignored the student leading the horse. He first carefully examined the fabric torn from Winters' body under the illumination of the Light spell, and then carefully examined Winters' wounds.

At this point, Winters could no longer maintain the Light spell. The intense phantom pain made it impossible for him to concentrate, and he was forced to exit the spellcasting state.

The dagger dimmed, and the only light source left in the room was the oil lamp.

"It's alright, no bones are broken. The weapon that caused the wound was very sharp, and no scraps of cloth got into the wound. The cut is also very clean, it will heal quickly. If there were a divine magic user here, there wouldn't even be a scar," the short instructor confidently assessed.

He then ordered the other trainees: "Find some clean water, dissolve some salt in it, and wash his wound. Don't bandage it."

The short instructor tore a long strip of cloth from the bed sheet, wrapped it around Winters' neck and right hand, and tied knots to make a sling similar to the one used when someone has a broken arm.

He instructed Winters, "Don't move your right arm too much, avoid aggravating the wound, it will heal faster."

After treating Winters' knife wound, the short instructor took a student and hurriedly rode off to the port area to investigate the fire.

After the short instructor left, Bud quickly prepared saline solution to clean Winters' wound.

But he was also in a dilemma. Where could he find clean water and salt so late at night? He figured that only the kitchen would have these two things, so he went out to the canteen to get salt water.

Only Winters and three junior students remained in the room. Winters and his juniors were familiar faces, as were the juniors. The four of them stared at each other, and an awkward atmosphere filled the duty room.

"Let's go to the student duty room." Winters decided to change rooms first; he couldn't stay in the faculty duty room.

"Squad leader, who could be so ruthless?" A junior cadet, after carefully examining Winters' wounds, asked with a pounding heart, "Does stealing require a knife? Besides, what's so interesting to steal at school?"

“I thought he was a guy who had skipped dorm.” Winters groaned in pain as he pulled on the knife. “But he just came up here and stabbed me with the knife.”

"Do you see what it looks like?"

"She was masked, so I couldn't see her face, but she was definitely a woman."

"A woman?!" The junior students were dumbfounded. In the lives of military academy students, apart from cooks and laundresses, they rarely had the opportunity to see other women, let alone female thieves.

The three exchanged glances, tacitly agreeing that their class monitor was perhaps hallucinating due to excessive lust. "It really is a female thief! You bastard!" Winters immediately saw through the three brats' schemes.

The female thief was indeed somewhat like a role-playing fantasy, but he was certain that the one who had just tried to kill him with a dagger was definitely a woman.

He regretted mentioning the word "woman" to his juniors. Now, their attention was no longer on the "thief," but completely drawn to the "woman."

"Was there anything unusual just now?" Winters asked.

"No, I was on duty the whole time. Just like always, I didn't hear any strange noises or see anything unusual." A junior officer shook his head.

Thank you all for the recommendation votes. Actually, I've been wondering: besides myself, no real person actually voted for me; it's possible the website used bots to give me a few encouragement votes. But regardless, these votes are encouraging me to keep writing. So if any real readers are reading this, thank you for reading and thank you for voting for me.

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(End of this chapter)