Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 190 Processing
Time! Time! Time!

The most important thing right now is time.

As soon as the supply train moved all of the Blank Lion's assets, the Palatine army immediately set about destroying Bianli—at this moment, many troops were still on their way back to the main camp.

However, the operation to destroy Bianli was quickly halted.

By a twist of fate, the torrential rain not only destroyed the gunpowder, but also turned the originally dry and flammable briquettes into a sponge soaked with water.

Acrid smoke filled the city of Bianli, but in reality, very few houses were set on fire.

The house could still catch fire from the inside; the problem was that the fire spread too slowly.

The fire could only be passed on to the next house after all the water from the thatched roof and wooden walls had dried.

This is a far cry from the previous situation where the fire was amplified by the wind and the wind fueled the fire.

According to the pre-war plan, Bianli should be completely destroyed: the city walls should be demolished, the temples and tombs should be razed, and all the people should be taken away as a warning to others.

But given the current situation, if the Paratul army dares to waste time undermining Bianli's position—literally undermining it—the White Lion will be laughing in his sleep.

Sackler and Arpad couldn't possibly waste their precious gunpowder on blowing up the city walls.

Therefore, the soldiers who breached the city walls were quickly withdrawn, and Sackler only sent a portion of his auxiliary troops into the city to set it on fire.

……

Winters threw a torch into the well, and the torch did not go out.

"Alright!" Seeing that the well had been almost completely filled, Winters stopped his men: "This well is useless now, next one."

The militiamen, shovels and spades in hand, rushed to the next well.

Staring at the dark well walls, Winters couldn't help but wonder, "Just how long has the White Lion been preparing for this battle?"

Bianli is located next to the confluence of rivers, so getting water should not be difficult.

But this is actually a mental trap, because water resources are so easy to obtain that their importance is often overlooked.

Once Bianli is besieged, going out of the city to fetch water will be extremely dangerous, and the water supply route could be completely cut off.

Even when the little lion led his troops to attack the northern village, he knew to intercept and kill the soldiers fetching water.

The white lion not only did not ignore the drinking water problem, but also prepared a solution – to dig a well.

Winters only discovered the presence of wells in the city after entering Bianli, and there were more than a dozen of them, evenly distributed throughout the residential area.

Bianli is situated on a small hill, at a high altitude, making it extremely difficult to dig a well.

Besides, the confluence river is just outside the city, within easy reach. No one would be foolish enough to waste so much effort digging a well in Bianli—unless he's the White Lion.

Walking to the next well, Winters saw Pierre and Bell dismembering a dead horse.

Two Dussacks wielded sharp axes and cleanly cleaved the warhorse carcass, bones and flesh intact.

Dark red blood flowed down to Winters' feet as horse carcasses were thrown into the well one by one.

Ish, a militiaman from Ganshui Town, was also in the team filling the well. He muttered with heartache, "This is all flesh! And skin too."

“Don’t worry, Mr. Ish,” Winters reassured him, recognizing the speaker. “General Sackler has ordered that each centurion be given two horses. There’s no shortage of food; the only concern is that everyone will have more than they can eat.”

“I can finish it!” Ish’s eyes lit up. “I guarantee I can finish it, sir.”

Soon, a horse carcass, blood and flesh still attached, was thrown into the deep well.

According to the officer's handbook, the best way to destroy a well is to use animals that have died of disease.

However, due to time constraints, Winters could not find any sick animals and had to make do with horse carcasses.

Along with the horse carcass, more than a dozen buckets of human and animal excrement were thrown into the well.

It didn't disgust the Hed people for the time being, but it made the Paratus and Winters around them feel nauseous.

After dumping the filth into the well, the militiamen, without Winters's order, spontaneously began filling the well with soil.

After filling in two wells in succession, the militiamen had become quite adept at this task.

Pierre wiped the blood off his hands with dirt, took a small bucket of salt from his pouch and poured it into the well, muttering to himself, "[Old saying] From now on, your livestock will not prosper, and your wives will lose their beauty..."

Others couldn't understand the old language Pierre used and were confused.

"Sprinkle salt?" Winters chuckled. "[An ancient saying] To seize a city, kill its inhabitants; to demolish it, sprinkle salt on it?"

Now it was Pierre's turn to be completely bewildered: "What are you talking about?"

Winters repeated it again in Common, and then asked Pierre, "[Old Language] Do you know the Old Language?"

Pierre proudly replied, "[Old saying] I know a little, my mother taught me a little, and the school taught me a little."

“I see.” Recalling Mrs. Mitchell’s words and mannerisms, Winters found it unsurprising that her son would use old sayings: “Who taught you this salt-sprinkling ritual?”

“It’s not a ceremony, it’s just a story my mom told me when I was little,” Pierre replied shyly.

Winters was both amused and exasperated: "Pierre, why would the Heds be afraid of salt? Even the sheep on the moor fight over salt blocks. Salt has always been expensive, and salting is always a ceremonial affair. Don't waste salt in a place like this; just sprinkle a small pinch."

Pierre scratched his head.

The militiamen first pushed down the well walls, then began digging soil into the well, and soon another well was filled in.

"Alright!" Winters waved his hand, indicating, "Next bite."

……

The army set off, and there were truly countless things to do.

Before the entire army had even fully assembled, two battalions had already set off ahead of schedule as the vanguard. Normally, all equipment must be carried by the soldiers themselves.

But this time was different. In order to increase the marching speed, Sackler assigned each centurion a single-horse wagon for carrying heavy loads.

The carts and horses were seized from the Harts; it's hard to say how long they can last.

The supplies in the military camp were loaded onto horse-drawn carts, but there was still a lot left over.

Initially, the decision was made to wage a war of attrition. Plato's army spent two and a half months transporting a large amount of supplies—and even had the capacity to transport luxury goods for officers.

The mountains of provisions in the warehouse next to the legion headquarters allowed Sackler to continue fighting even with his supply lines cut off.

Even if Palatine's army loses its rear supply, the Hed people in Bianli City will certainly starve to death first.

Now these supplies have become a burden – because the wagons can't hold them all.

"Take as much as you can," Sackler ordered through gritted teeth. "Burn everything you can't take. Don't leave the Heds a single grain of wheat or a single blade of grass. Throw away everything except grain and hay!"

At the JASKA battalion's camp, the lieutenant colonel was also giving Mason orders: "Nail all the gun emplacements shut and push them all into the middle of the river."

“We’ll definitely need them later.” Mason hung his head dejectedly, standing still without carrying out the order: “They’re all good cannons.”

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica frowned and replied, "It's not them, it's them! This journey won't be easy. Rather than forcing them to carry us and having to abandon them one by one as the draft horses break down, it's better to throw them away from the start and save the draft horses some energy."

Knowing he was in the wrong, Mason saluted and left the tent.

Four light and three heavy cannons, a total of seven cannons, all eventually disappeared into the waves of the confluence river.

Along with the cannons, captured armor and weapons were also thrown into the confluence river.

The luxury goods that the supply train had transported for the officers from afar were all destroyed.

Robert and Jessica, two lieutenant colonels, stood on the riverbank, watching as soldiers smashed porcelain with the hilts of their swords and threw entire cases of liquor directly into the tributary.

“The old man is still not decisive enough.” Jessica frowned. “Speed ​​is the priority. Nothing matters except for food supplies. Throw everything away. Throw away combat gear too. Carry an extra knife, and you’ll walk a mile less each day.”

Robert sighed: "You should also have some understanding of the old man. If he forces his men to hand over the spoils of war, the soldiers might just mutini."

“It’s not that bad.” Jessica shook her head. “Life is the most important thing. Let’s get home alive first, then we can talk about the spoils.”

“Remember that fable? The one about gold?” Robert countered. “Only a minority of people are willing to let go of their gold and swim ashore. Most are reluctant to let go until the last moment before they drown, but then it’s too late. That’s human nature; there’s nothing you or I can do about it, and even this old man can’t do anything about it.”

A plume of smoke rose behind the two lieutenant colonels; it was the Platu camp burning supplies.

More plumes of smoke rose from the south and north.

Those were Paratu people stationed in various places setting fire to fortifications and camps.

Winters and Andrei in Bianli also polluted and filled in all the wells.

The smoke inside the city gradually thickened, and Winters and Andre quickly led the people out of the border.

The group collapsed onto the riverbank north of the city, panting heavily as they rested.

"Let's go!" Winters licked his chapped lips and urged his men to move. "Don't stay here. Let's go back to camp and rest."

The militiamen slowly got up, shoulders drooping, dragging their tools, and followed the centurion toward the camp.

"Someone's coming!" A sharp-eyed militiaman shouted, pointing ahead, "It looks like the Hed people!"

Winters' heart tightened. He stepped into the stirrups, stood up, and looked out.

“They’re Hurds,” Winters confirmed, adding, “But it’s alright, they’re Hurd prisoners.”

Two infantry battalions escorted the prisoners past the crowd.

Winters' gaze swept over the Hurd people, who—to be precise, were already Hurd slaves—had expressions of sorrow, pain, and a hint of numbness.

Winters saw Paratul soldiers brutally separating men from women and children, and the cries of the women and children in Hed were deafening.

All the men in Heard who could ride horses had already broken out with the White Lion. The men who remained in the city were either too old or wounded.

Like separating egg white from yolk, the Plattite soldiers separated the Hed men from the crowd and drove them eastward toward the riverbank where the two rivers meet.

The Hed men understood their fate, and several wounded soldiers roared in grief and anger as they lunged at the Platul soldiers before them.

But wounded and unarmed, they were no match for the fully armed Paratus and all perished.

The Plattite soldiers, carrying blood-stained weapons, continued to drive the remaining Hed men toward the riverbank.

"Get rid of all the Hed people." Winters instantly recalled this order relayed by Andrei.

The Paratites' method of dealing with this was execution.

First deal with the men, then the women and children.

Winters also "dealt with" quite a few prisoners.

But women and children... he hasn't crossed that line yet.

Looking at the wailing and pitiful cries of the Hurd women and children left behind, Winters felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let's go." Even someone as carefree as Andrei showed reluctance. He lowered his head and said softly, "It's painful to watch. Let them do it."

"Wait! Don't go!" Winters suddenly spurred his horse, propelling it towards the riverbank: "I have something to say to the officer in charge of 'dealing with the Heds'!"

The aftereffects of my two-night stay in Night City are making me so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open (laughs).
After someone pointed it out, I was devastated to discover that the [bartender and driver] I "tried to seduce, but there was absolutely no romantic storyline" with was transgender. My mom was shocked for a whole year. No wonder she looked a bit muscular; I thought it was a problem with the character model...

Thank you to all readers for reading, subscribing, recommending, voting for monthly tickets, and giving rewards; thank you to readers 20181125173435670 and Gaoguixianggong for their rewards; as suggested by a reader, those who voted for monthly tickets will have them posted as images at the end of the chapter, thank you everyone;
Thank you again to all the readers who voted for the book these past few days.

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(End of this chapter)