Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 175 Confiscating the house
The frightened horses rampaged through the camp, destroying the tents like a storm.

Dogs barked, hooves pounded, horses neighed, people screamed, cloth tore… a thousand sounds rang out at once, and Hart’s camp was thrown into chaos.

Several campfires were lit, but quickly extinguished, and the camp returned to darkness.

Wentes was running wildly with the little hunter when several disheveled Hed people ran into them.

One of the bare-chested Hed men roared furiously, "[Hed] What are you running for? Get the horses! Who is your chieftain?"

Winters couldn't understand what the other person was saying, and he couldn't wait for the little hunter to speak.

"Close your eyes!" He pulled the little hunter behind him, crushed the glass bottle in his hand, and cast a Flash spell at the few Hed people.

The container shattered, and the active metal powder inside was magically activated the moment it came into contact with the air, instantly turning into a dazzling white light.

The light was brighter than lightning and more blinding than the sun, and the Hed people covered their eyes and screamed in agony.

The shirtless Hed man fell to the ground, still shouting, "[Hed] Enemy! Enemy! Help!"

The retinas of the Hed people have even suffered permanent damage from the intense light, but they no longer need to worry about that.

Winters charged into the ranks of the Hurds with his sword, each strike aimed at vital points, leaving the blind Hurds utterly defenseless.

Except for one person who scrambled into the tent thicket, the rest were all killed.

"Let's go!" With no time to chase after the fleeing enemy, Winters led the little hunter out of the camp.

His leather gloves were burned through by the flash spell, and he could smell a distinct burnt odor. His palms were in excruciating pain, but he wasn't sure whether it was from being pierced by glass or burned by alchemical substances.

Alongside the camp walls formed by carriages, Palatine's spearmen and halberdiers were fighting against more than twenty Hed men.

There were well-dressed Hard sentries. There were also Hard men, just awakened from their sleep, who grabbed scimitars and joined the melee.

A towering, barbarian named Hed was completely naked, brandishing two curved swords and shouting wildly in battle.

His scimitar was knocked away, but he snatched a halberd in return, charging left and right through the crowd with terrifying momentum.

In an era when the average height of farmers was only a little over 1.6 meters, that barbarian was two meters tall, with broad shoulders and a thick waist. I really don't know what he ate to grow such a physique.

The surrounding Paratu militiamen looked like dwarfs in his presence, and for a time no one could get close to him.

"[Herd'd] Come on!" The burly barbarian swung his long halberd, smashing the brains of an unfortunate militiaman, and roared, "[Herd'd] Come on!"

Ish from Ganshui Town, gnawing on his muzzle, circled behind the giant and, seizing the opportunity, thrust his spear into the giant's lower back.

With a full-force charge, the spearhead sank completely into flesh and blood.

The giant turned back to look at Ish in disbelief, and struggled to raise his arm.

Seeing that the other party was not dead, Ish stood there dumbfounded, on the verge of dying together with him.

Six more militiamen attacked the giant from all eight directions to the west, joining forces to surround and kill the barbarian general.

The Harts were filled with despair at the sight of this scene; their numbers were too small, and they were quickly wiped out by the militia.

The archers under Hurd who were firing arrows from the camp wall also fell one after another.

Winters, having dealt with the archers, leaped onto the carriage, ripped off his helmet, and raised his scimitar.

"Uukhai!" The Parat people's cheers soared into the sky.

With no further obstacles in front, the group cut the ropes, dragged the carriage away, and tore a gap in the carriage wall.

Charles ran over and tied a white cloth around Winters' left arm. The militia armor was mixed up to distinguish friend from foe.

Charles saw that Winters' hand was dripping blood, so he took out a clean cloth to bandage it.

Winters shook off Charles and roared, "The banner!"

Gendarmerie officer Heinrich handed the regimental flag to the centurion.

"Torch!"

The crowd lit torches one after another.

"attack!"

Winters led two squads of hundreds into Heard's camp, setting fires everywhere. They had little kindling, but everything was flammable in this season.
The fire, fueled by the wind, swept across the camp from west to east.

The Heds were still desperately trying to scare their frightened horses out of the camp when they suddenly discovered a fire breaking out to the west. Terrifying shouts of battle echoed throughout the camp, as if a massive army was attacking.

Night battles are inherently chaotic and disorganized, and the defending forces' command structure eventually collapsed completely.

One person started to run away, and then all the Hud people began to grab horses and scramble to escape.

Those who still retained their rationality wanted to regroup, but no one paid them any attention; those who still had courage tried to fight back, but were surrounded and killed by the enemy.

The Paratites' method of communication was simple and direct: as long as the drums beat, the battle never stopped; wherever the military flag went, the soldiers went.

Winters tied a torch to the top of the flagpole and led his men in a charge through the camp.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Jessica and Lieutenant Mason led four other hundred-man squads to guard outside the camp and intercept the Heds who were trying to escape.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica called it the "dog-hunting tactic." Montagne's team acted like hounds that startled waterfowl, creating chaos to drive the Heds away from the camp. The real killing move was the four teams lying in ambush outside.

If all six hundred-man squads were to storm the camp, they would be unable to effectively utilize their strengths, and the other four squads would not be as capable, reliable, or efficient as Winters' men.

The fire raged on and on, and the entire camp was shrouded in thick smoke.

Winters stood still and looked around; there were no living Hurds to be seen.

As soon as the military flag stopped, the militiamen gradually gathered around.

Heinrich's eyes were red and swollen from the smoke, and tears streamed down his face. He rubbed his eyes and said, "It seems like no one's here, sir."

Winters patted the drummer on the shoulder, and the drumming stopped.

"Stop rubbing your eyes, bear with it." Winters, tears streaming down his face, tossed the military flag to Heinrich, sheathed his sword, and shouted, "Withdraw!"

After quickly determining their direction, Winters led the group out of Heard's camp.

But not long after the fire subsided a little, he led his men back into the camp.

We had to come back; everyone was starving. We were so busy killing enemies and setting fires that we hadn't seen any of the meat, mare's milk wine, and roasted whole lamb the centurion had promised.

Winters directed the firefighting efforts, but he also felt a little regretful.

He had been so caught up in the heat of battle that he wished he could burn Hart's camp three times over, forgetting everything else and even forgetting to gather food and drink.

The Paratites had to scavenge for food and loot from the ashes.

"No hiding anything! Divide it equally when we get back! Anyone who hides anything will be hanged!" Winters urged everyone, "Hurry up! Don't dawdle!"

Once the camp catches fire, it can be seen from several kilometers away.

The Hed cavalry that had launched the attack earlier would definitely return to the rescue, leaving the Parat people with little time to clean up the battlefield.

Winters took a wagon from the camp wall and harnessed it to Strong Transport.

The militiamen threw their spoils into the cart; they were mostly small items like silver scabbards, weapons, and buttons—nothing of great value. Everyone was a little disappointed.

This was the first time in Qiangyun's life that he had pulled a cart, and he was extremely aggrieved, throwing a tantrum and refusing to move.

Winters was so angry that he slapped its rear end.

The strong momentum began to move forward slowly.

Winters took out two sugar cubes and gently rubbed them against the horse's neck.

The horse snorted in complaint, stuck out its tongue to lick Winters's palm, and looked longingly at its master.

Winters shook his head helplessly, took out the last two candies, and then turned his pocket inside out to show the horse: "That's all!"

Only then did Qiang Yun lift his leg.

The sound of hooves approached from behind. Anglu rode Redmane to Winters' side, and when he saw that it was Strong Fortune pulling the cart, his eyes widened.

"How is it?" Winters asked the young stable boy.

Anglu nodded.

"Thank you."

Anglu shook his head again.

The two exchanged questions and answers, as if they were playing a riddle.

The most valuable spoils were not gold and jewels, but the thousands of horses. The herd had been frightened away by Winters's "Startle the Wild Beast" maneuver and had to be gathered back.

Dusac was naturally in charge of gathering the horses, while Winters' secret order was: select three hundred well-fed warhorses and hide them away. "The lieutenant colonel informs you to clean up the battlefield as soon as possible and rendezvous with him," Anglu said, carrying with him the official order.

"okay, I get it."

Anglu saluted and rode away.

The fire started quickly and went out just as fast, and the camp was soon burned to the ground. Before the smoke had even cleared, the land was charred black as far as the eye could see.

The once densely packed tents are now reduced to blackened wooden poles, still crackling and burning.

Before dawn, the militiamen, some carrying torches and others using the light of embers, rummaged through the ashes for food and valuables.

Militiamen would occasionally find leftover jerky, burnt cheese, and so on. No one bothered to pick and choose; they would just wipe it on their clothes and share it.

Charles, clutching a leather bag, ran gleefully to Winters' side: "Mother's milk! Sir!"

"Mare's milk?" Winters was also pleasantly surprised; he was extremely thirsty, his throat was practically on fire.

But as soon as he pulled out the stopper, he remembered the promises and boasts he had made before the battle, and felt too embarrassed to start eating.

They let themselves go before, and now they have to pay the price.

Winters sighed and handed the bag back to Charles: "Distribute it to everyone, so that everyone can drink a little and soothe their throats."

Charles looked completely unwilling.

“Go ahead.” Winters swallowed.

The precious mare's milk was passed from hand to hand among the militiamen, each taking a small sip before passing it on to the next person.

Ish only took a sip; he really wanted to gulp it down. But everyone else was just moistening their throats, and he didn't want to look like a fool in front of his comrades.

He walked to the embers of the tent and casually swept them with his foot.

Blood Wolf said there were golden cups, silver bowls, pearls, and gems in this place, but so far no one has seen anything.

Although she knew Blood Wolf was probably just bragging, Ish couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

Because if he could bring home two—no, even half a gold cup—he wouldn't have to be a farmhand anymore; he could buy a small plot of land and work for himself from then on.

Even though Ish didn't believe in the existence of the Golden Cup or the Silver Cup, he still held the deepest and most sincere hope when he charged toward Hart's camp.

But Ish has given up all hope; he just feels like he's been a bit foolish.

He casually swiped his foot back and forth in the ashes a few times, and suddenly, he bumped into something hard.

Ish's heart clenched suddenly.

The embers still glowed red, and Ish couldn't wait to pry them open with her bare hands. The hard object reflected a unique golden luster in the firelight.

Ish grabbed the scalding hot golden bowl: "My lord! I've found the golden cup!"

Winters, Charles, Heinrich… everyone heard Ish’s excited shouts. The militiamen ran to Ish’s side and surrounded him as he walked to Winters’s side, holding the golden bowl.

“My lord! This is what I found.” Ish carefully showed the golden bowl to the centurion.

Winters initially thought his men had mistaken the bronze bowl for a gold one, but after examining it closely, he couldn't help but gasp: "This looks...like it really is gold!"

Ish was so happy she almost fainted.

“Ish, this golden bowl must be handed over to the public.” Winters said somewhat embarrassedly, “But I promise that it will be divided equally as previously promised. I will only take one share, just like you.”

Ish's face turned from red to white, and after much hesitation, he finally presented the golden bowl to Winters.

“I wouldn’t dare touch it.” Winters gave a wry smile and called out the name of the military policeman: “Charles.”

"exist."

"Register and compile a list."

"Yes"

"Heinrich."

"exist."

"You keep a close eye on this thing."

"Yes"

“How about this?” Winters thought for a moment, then looked at the lucky one who had found the golden bowl: “Ish, you and Heinrich will be in charge of overseeing the safekeeping of all the spoils. You two will also nominate two more people to help look after the spoils.”

Soon, several respected militiamen were elected.

The spoils of war were placed on the carriage, clearly visible, and guarded by three militiamen and two military policemen, who supervised each other.

"Stop watching! Hurry up! Time is running out!" Winters urged his men to speed up: "No holding back, no testing military law."

The militiamen scattered, leaving the heavy gold bowl on the carriage.

Everyone was greatly encouraged and quickened their pace.

"I found it too!" another person shouted.

This time, it was a huge gold belt buckle, engraved with beautiful patterns, found on a charred corpse.

Winters unexpectedly discovered that the owner of the belt plate seemed to be the bare-chested Hedman who had been blinded by the Flash spell and then killed by him.

The group continued searching towards the center of the camp and found some gold and silver utensils, as well as decorative items such as gold knife handles and scabbards.

The further east you go, the more valuable items you'll find.

The Parat people were enraged, wanting to dig up every clump of ashes and every remnant of a tent.

"Sir! There's a large tent at the far east end!" Another militiaman ran up to report: "It wasn't burned!"

This camp is getting more and more interesting, and the lieutenant became intrigued: "Take me there quickly!"

At the easternmost edge of the camp, down the hillside, stood a large tent. It was truly a "large" tent, at least ten meters wide, almost the size of a house.

Most interestingly, this large tent sits atop a giant vehicle and appears to be movable.

Upon reaching the main tent, Winters finally understood why his men dared not enter: the main camp had been burned to ashes, but only this tent and the small area behind it remained unscathed, which was extremely eerie.

"Bring me a rope!" Winters didn't dare to be reckless either: "Drag it down for me."

Hooks and chains were used to secure the four walls of the tent, and the militiamen worked together to overturn it with brute force.

“What is this thing?!” Winters stared in disbelief.

The tent was empty—no, there was someone inside, a golden "person".

A golden statue stood in the center of the tent, silently and calmly watching the crowd.

The golden figure was three heads taller than Winters, with golden eyes, nose, and ears, rendered with just a few strokes, yet remarkably lifelike, except for its mouth.

Everyone present was completely dumbfounded.

The militiamen, now hesitant and fearful, asked, "Sir, what should we do?"

"What are you afraid of!" Winters refused to believe it was pure gold: "It's definitely gilded! Bring me a knife!"

He scraped off several layers of gold dust, and if Winters wasn't mistaken, it was also gold inside.

The camp was eerily silent after the fire, and some militiamen were even trembling.

Ish stammered, "This...this isn't some kind of heretical idol, is it?"

Winters remained silent for a while, then suddenly threw down the knife and burst into laughter: "Heretical idols are great! I wouldn't dare take a Catholic ritual object! Hahahaha! What's there to be afraid of? Move them away! Move them all away!"

The wagons carrying the spoils were instantly overloaded, and militiamen immediately set off to find more wagons. Winters also sent men to Lieutenant Colonel Jessica for help, as he needed more horses.

Besides the golden statue, there were also many scattered gold and silver ritual objects in the tent, all of which were packed up by Winters.

In the past, these things would have been enough to surprise everyone. But now, compared to the golden statue, they suddenly seem insignificant.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica rushed over upon hearing the news and was also greatly startled.

Winters was surprised to see the one-eyed tough guy looking fearful; this was the first time he had ever seen such a thing.

Jessica pulled Winters aside and said hoarsely, "We...we've probably ransacked the Teldon tribe's property..."

[Note: Telden was one of Hart's three major departments.]
Golden statue used for sacrificial rites.jpg
Of course, theoretically speaking, the golden statue used for sacrificial rites that General Flying Cavalry captured should have been made of bronze. Moreover, General Flying Cavalry defeated a large Xiongnu army, which is different from Winters's raid on a camp.

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(End of this chapter)