Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 216 River
On June 20, after a full ten weeks of immobilization, the tribal healer removed the wooden mold from Winters' left leg.

"Does it hurt?" Erlun asked with concern.

Winters shook his head.

Two months later, the severed and reconnected left leg was finally reunited with its owner.

The owner of the left leg had gained a little weight and looked much better—the herders' diet was too high in fat and protein, and his sunken cheeks and eye sockets had rebounded almost visibly.

However, its left leg became thinner, its muscles atrophied, and compared to its twin brother, its right leg, it looked like a stick.

The tribal healer pinched and kneaded Winters's wound inch by inch.

Then he leaned down on Winters's lap and tapped it lightly with a small wooden mallet.

“[Herdud] Erdun.” The physician respectfully said to Erdun, “[Herdud] Batu can walk now.”

Erlun was overjoyed and gave the doctor a lot of gold and silver jewelry as a reward.

"How is it?" Winters asked calmly.

He said you can walk now.

Winters braced himself with his hands on the ground and immediately tried to get up.

He had barely taken a step when he lost his balance and fell sharply to his left.

Erlun exclaimed and rushed to help Winters.

But Winters swung his arms and struggled to regain his balance, swaying and spinning around in the tent.

The healer observed Winters' gait and asked, "[Herd] Batu, does your leg hurt?"

Erlen wanted to help but didn't dare to reach out, standing beside Winters and translating for the doctor: "He asked if your leg hurts."

"pain."

“[Hede] It’s okay if it hurts!” The doctor took out the plaster from the cow horn and explained, “[Hede] Even a mastiff won’t recognize its owner after two months apart, let alone its leg. Ba needs to gradually adapt to his leg, and his leg needs to gradually adapt to him. Remember to apply the medicine and massage Ba every day. As long as the bone isn’t crooked, Ba will get better.”

Erlun happily saw the doctor off, and when he returned to his tent, he saw Winters putting on his boots.

Erlun was somewhat panicked and asked weakly, "Where are we going?"

"The tent is too small, I'm going to go for a walk outside."

Winters struggled to put on his boots; his left leg was stiff and sore, making movement very difficult.

Erlun hurriedly brought over a folding chair: "The doctor said you should take it slowly and not rush."

Winters silently tied his boot laces.

The felt tent curtain was lifted, and the little lion walked in.

"I heard you can walk now?" the little lion said excitedly. "Come on! I'll take you for a bath!"

Erlun gave the little lion a reproachful look: "He's not fully recovered yet!"

The little lion looked left and right: "Isn't it growing quite well? It hasn't turned out crooked."

Upon hearing the little lion's words, Winters stopped what he was doing.

For the past two months, he has been confined to a three-meter radius around his tent.

Aside from daily washing and grooming, I clean my body entirely by wiping it with a damp towel.

When he first fell into a coma, Erlun wiped his body, but after Winters woke up, he did it himself.

He really wanted to take a good, long shower; if there was no hot water, cold water would do too.

Winters looked at the lion cub and nodded slowly.

Erlun couldn't resist the two men, so he silently helped Winters get dressed.

Winters now looks almost exactly like a Heard: he wears a diagonal robe, leather boots, and his beard and hair have been unkempt for two months, growing naturally.

Only his eyes were melancholy, lacking the bold and unrestrained temperament of the Hed people.

The little lion led a horse over and gently called for it to lie down, so Winters could easily mount the saddle.

"Are you getting used to it?" the little lion asked with a smile.

Winters gently tugged at the reins and nodded slightly.

The Heds don't use iron bites, and thankfully, the Winters didn't either.

The two started walking slowly, gradually increasing their speed, and finally almost galloping on horseback all the way to the riverbank.

A pile of clothes lay on the riverbank, and many men were having a water fight in the water.

The people having the water fight were all adult men, but they were playing like children.

"Let's go!" The little lion jumped off the saddle, excitedly taking off his clothes: "Let's get off too."

Just as he pulled off his robe, the little lion suddenly remembered that Winters had difficulty walking, so he helped Winters dismount.

Winters was clearly hesitant, but he did not refuse.

He slowly took off his clothes, folded them neatly, and staggered into the river.

The river water was icy cold, and the moment you touched it, your hair stood on end.

But once you get used to the water temperature, it's not a big deal; in fact, it feels refreshing.

Winters went deeper and deeper into the water, and the buoyancy of the water reduced the burden on his left leg, which slightly alleviated the soreness in his left leg.

Yes, it was aches and pains. He didn't feel pain, just a kind of aches and pains like from excessive fatigue.

The men in the water didn't notice that two more people had joined in—in fact, people had been joining in all along—they were shouting and splashing each other in the water, wrestling, catching fish, and swimming.

Winters scooped up river water and gently washed his body.

The man next to him burst into laughter and pounced on him, splashing water all over his face.

Winters' muscles tensed instantly, and he abruptly looked up at the other person.

The man in front of him was unaware that Winters might suddenly attack and hurt him, and was still laughing as he threw water at him.

Winters was stunned.

Because the man who splashed water on him and laughed like a child was none other than the hero of the wasteland, the warrior of the tribes, and the leader of the Red River tribe—White Lion.

Two enemies who fought to the death on the battlefield met naked in this way.

Winters' gaze was inevitably drawn to the scars on the white lion's body.

The white lion's body was almost completely wrecked, with no part larger than two palms intact.

Most of the marks were from arrows, followed by sword streaks, and several gruesome gunshot wounds.

But what about Winters himself? He's the same as the White Lion, only with fewer scars.

The white lion noticed the strangeness in the person in front of him. He held his waist and panted, then asked with a smile, "[Herd] How come I've never seen you before?"

Winters couldn't understand what the other person was saying, and even if he could, he couldn't answer.

This was the first time the white lion had met him, while this was the third time he had met the white lion.

The previous two times they were sworn enemies, and his face was hidden under his helmet. This was the first time they had "openly faced each other."

Silence is like an invisible sound wave, spreading rapidly in all directions.

One by one, the men playing in the water stopped what they were doing, and everyone sensed the change in atmosphere.

The riverbank, which had just been filled with laughter, suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

The air seemed to freeze as everyone stared at the white lion and the strange man standing in front of it.

"[Herd] I caught a fish!" The little lion's head popped out of the water, a fine-scaled salmon struggling desperately in his hand. He laughed joyfully, "[Herd] Look what this is!"

No one spoke.

The little lion shook the water off his head, his smile stiffening as he realized something was wrong.

"[Herd] Brother! Let's grill some fish!" The little lion grabbed the fish's tail and pounced to the white lion's side, explaining in a rapid-fire voice, "This is the person I was talking about."

The white lion nodded gently to the stranger and then addressed the others: "[Herd] Don't worry, it's just a little misunderstanding."

The people around relaxed and continued playing in the water. But the atmosphere had become strange; it wasn't the same as before.

The white lion sighed and nodded to Winters again.

He slowly walked to the riverbank, sat down on the sand, and let the wind dry the water droplets off his body.

The little lion whispered to Winters, "It was my fault. My brother just got back, and I was thinking of getting you to see him as soon as possible." Winters shook his head and continued washing himself.

It was getting dark.

Someone brought some sheep, and they slaughtered and butchered them on the shore, and then lit a fire.

Some of the mutton was boiled in a pot, while the rest was skewered and grilled.

The people of the Red River tribe washed away the dust of their journey, laughing and joking as they walked onto the riverbank, naturally joining in the preparation of food.

Some people were gathering firewood, some were cutting meat, and some were tending the campfire. It was a lively scene, but Winters sat quietly on the riverbank.

Cut the meat into small pieces, skewer them, and grill them; they cook very quickly.

However, trees don't grow much in the wasteland, and there are few branches that can be used to skewer meat, so this practice is not common.

Fortunately, some pitiful shrubs could be found in the silt deposits in the nearby river bend.

No one knows how many years these shrubs took to grow to their current size, but today they've all been turned into fuel and meat skewers.

The little lion dragged his older brother to talk to Winters.

The three sat on the riverbank, gazing at the dark river in the night, unsure of what to say.

Winters suddenly spoke up: "Why didn't you kill me?"

The little lion was startled.

“I didn’t save you,” the white lion replied.

"Why don't you kill me?"

The white lion did not answer.

"Do you know that I am the 'Chosen One' you all talk about?" Winters asked, staring intently at the white lion.

"Have heard a little bit."

"If I act now, none of you here will survive."

"Ah."

"Why don't you kill me?"

A look of terror appeared on the little lion's face. He wanted to stop Winters, but dared not interrupt.

"You haven't made a move yet, have you?"

Winters asked, enunciating each word clearly, "Why don't you kill me?"

“I don’t know either. The sparrow was chased into the grass by the hawk, and the grass will protect it.” The white lion fell backward, lying on his back on the slope. He looked nothing like a barbarian chieftain with tens of thousands of bows and arrows, but rather like an ordinary shepherd: “Once we treat each other as ‘humans,’ it will be very difficult to kill each other.”

“But I killed many of your people, many… many.”

“I’ve killed many of your people too.” The white lion’s brown eyes were lowered. “Of course people have hatred. Hatred makes people feel good. Hatred doesn’t cause pain; it’s understanding your enemy that causes pain. If I stab you twice now, you’ll feel much better. We’ll be enemies again, and all we need to do is kill each other.”

This time it was Winters' turn to remain silent.

After a long silence, Winters spoke: "Can you understand the Paratians? Can you understand why they want to kill you, to kill your people?"

"My understanding doesn't mean I agree. My understanding makes me even more determined."

“I know what you mean, and I know what you’re trying to say.” Winters’s speech quickened. “You keep telling me you’re not savages, that you’re human too, that you live lives. But it doesn’t make sense, you know? It doesn’t make sense!”

The white lion and the little lion listened quietly.

Winters grew increasingly agitated: "If I hadn't been brought to Palatine, we could have been friends, and I would have invited you to my home! But now that I'm in Palatine, standing in that position, none of that matters anymore. Whether you're barbarians or not, it doesn't matter! You..."

The white lion gestured for Winters to stop, then sighed and said, "You don't need to think so much. Let me ask you, if you met me on the battlefield, would you hold back?"

Winters shook his head.

"I don't know either, but the war is over."

"It's just for now."

"Then let's just take it one day at a time."

"If you don't kill me, one day I might be the one to kill you."

"Then we'll wait until that day comes."

Winters fell silent once again.

“I’m not advising you to let go of your hatred; I still harbor the strongest hatred for the Paratians.” The White Lion looked into Winters’ eyes. “You just need to make yourself feel better, by whatever means necessary. You saved my sister and brother, and they saved you in return. That’s just how it is.”

"Herstus and the others paid with their blood, but I, the little lion, owe them nothing."

The white lion shook his head slightly: "You think it's a business transaction, but I see it as a bond. That's how it happened. Who knows what fate has in store for us?"
We don't know each other, but seeing you reminds me of myself many years ago. There was a man who killed my father; the same man who saved my mother, brother, and sister. How should I view him? I don't know.

We are swept along by the river; our pain, thoughts, and struggles are insignificant to it. Everyone goes through this process, and only a very few ultimately have the opportunity to change the river's course. If one day you have the chance to influence the river's flow, I hope you won't forget your thoughts and reflections of today.

And now... all you need to do is make yourself feel better.

Winters chewed on the white lion's words.

Like an older brother, the white lion gently patted Winters' arm: "Go get some meat, it's delicious. Little lion, you're mistaken, you won't stay here. Heal your leg injury, then you can leave."

After saying that, the white lion got up and walked towards the campfire.

"And you! Did you change the course of the river?" Winters shouted at the white lion's retreating figure.

"Not yet." The white lion didn't turn his head. "But I've never forgotten who I was in the past."

Winters stood there, motionless, for a very long time.

The little lion didn't understand what the two men were talking about. He gently tugged at Winters' sleeve and said, "Come on, I'll take you to eat meat."

Winters suddenly strode toward the white lion.

The little lion didn't even have time to stop it, and neither did anyone else.

The White Lion's "Na Ke'er" and "Na Yan" were terrified, some grabbing their knives, others rushing at Winters with their bare hands.

However, Winters did not lay a hand on anyone or cause any harm.

He stood in front of the white lion and said calmly, "I want to buy something from you."

"Go on," the white lion said, cutting the meat with his head down.

"Palatu prisoners, all of them."

"price."

"Two tons of gold."

……

……

……

When Winters returned to Erlun's tent, it was already completely dark.

The white lion neither agreed nor refused.

He just laughed and handed Winters a piece of mutton.

Specks of light shone from inside the felt tent, clearly Erlun was waiting for him to return.

Winters threw back the felt tent, and the hairs on his body stood on end as a gust of wind swirled past him.

A huge creature lunged at him.

Winters was caught off guard and was tackled to the ground.

The enormous creature opened its blood-red maw, and the strong, pungent stench nearly knocked Winters unconscious.

Then the enormous creature began licking Winters' face, its barbed tongue as rough as sandpaper.

Winters slapped the other man on the head: "Get out!"

The enormous creature whimpered pitifully, then huffed and puffed as it tucked its tail between its legs and walked away.

Inside the tent were three people Winters never expected to see: Charles, the little hunter, and the old charlatan.

This should be considered part of daily life, right? (I'm sure)

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(End of this chapter)