Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 301 Mason
The night was deep, and I had no idea what time or place it was.

The soldiers, carrying spears and muskets on their shoulders, were panting heavily as they kept up with their comrades and ran forward.

The other side of the road was occupied by horses carrying armor, and every now and then an out-of-control horse would break into the marching column, causing a burst of screams and curses.

“This won’t do.” Bard looked around at everyone, his brow furrowed. “The vanguard is almost at Saint K’s Town, but the militia behind them haven’t even left Cowhoof Valley yet. There’s no food, no water. The soldiers can’t find ammunition wagons, and the packhorse caravans transporting armor can’t find soldiers.”

Winters, carrying a lantern, silently sketched on the map.

Besides the two regular officers, all the company-level commanders and militia commissioned captains who could be summoned were present.

Everyone knows that night marches are dangerous, but can we do it if we don't move fast?

The majority of the supplies for this force of nearly 10,000 men—including the militia—were in Zhevodan.

The Battle of Pangtuo River relied on the main artery of [Revodan-Xiaoshi Town-Pangtuo River] to deliver supplies, ensuring that the front lines had food, water, and ammunition.

If the dervoran were lost, "aortic embolism" wouldn't even begin to describe it; it would be like having the heart ripped out.

Not to mention that Zhevodan is also a evacuation point for military families. The militia may lack sympathy for them, but the soldiers whose families are in Zhevodan wish they could grow wings and fly back.

"Soldiers drenched in sweat, warhorses foaming at the mouth—this kind of army can't fight!" Bud said emphatically, seemingly addressing his subordinates, but actually speaking more to Winters:

“In this state, five hundred cavalrymen could crush our entire army. Until we have definite news of Zhevodan, we should assume that Zhevodan has already fallen and formulate our next battle plan based on this premise.”

The crowd listened in silence. There were only two officers present, and only one person could command this army.

"Change the destination. Have the Second and Third Battalions regroup and reorganize at Saint-Kreutz; have the cavalry and infantry battalion cross the river at Wangqiao and proceed to Zhevodan on the north bank." Winters spoke abruptly, issuing the orders clearly:
"Have Tamas's first battalion turn back and lead the Niuhe Valley militia to [Iron Peak Pass] to build fortifications and nail down Iron Peak Pass."

[Note: Iron Peak Pass is the narrow and treacherous pass between Oxhoof Valley and Forge Village. Winters scouted the terrain there in Chapter 60.]
Before the others could react, Bard had already taken out his notebook and transcribed the verbal instructions into written orders.

"What about the other militia units?" Bard asked, his hands still busy.

"All troops without specific orders are to assemble in Saint-Kree." Winters folded the map and handed it to Bard: "Give the map to the acting battalion commanders. Have the messengers from each village and town been dispatched?"

"They've all been sent out."

"Send more troops, and set up the assembly point in Shengke Town. Collect grain and fodder from Shengke Town and Wangqiao Town, and pay them in kind after the war."

“I’ll take care of it.” Bud nodded; he was still nominally the resident official of Saint-King Town.

The two quickly sorted out the army's deployment through a question-and-answer session.

The men were ordered to return to their respective units, leaving only Winters, Bard, and a few guards behind.

Bud looked at Winters, unsure of what to say.

From the moment he learned that Ghevordan was threatened, Winters' emotions gradually became calm and detached, as if he had been stripped of his human feelings.

Seemingly in some kind of stress response or self-defense mechanism, Winters never spoke of his concerns about Gévordane.

This, in turn, shows that Gévordan possesses treasures that Winters cherishes as if they were his life, to the point that he cannot imagine what it would be like to lose them. Therefore, he can only occupy his mind with endless battle scenarios, and stop thinking about anything else.

Bud felt sorry for his dear friend and wanted to say something to comfort Winters.

But it was Winters who spoke first, asking, "Has the fleet set sail?"

Bard paused slightly: "Samukin sent a messenger; he has already set off."

“Okay.” Winters nodded and turned to walk into the inner tent.

When Bud looked at Winters again, the latter was already asleep on his cot.

……

At dawn, Ghevordan appeared in the sight of the Teldun forwards.

The Rivodan is situated on a solid flat area in the middle of the valley, which is also the lowest point in the valley plain. It is open on all sides and has no natural defenses.

From their elevated position, the Telden people had a panoramic view of Ghevodan: the two cities, north and south, faced each other across the river, connected by a wooden bridge.

At this moment, the city walls were brightly lit, and the defenders were clearly on high alert.

The man tending the fire wasn't surprised; once the army started moving, it was inevitable that they would be exposed—they had already been spotted by the watchtowers along the river when they crossed it.

Predators approach stealthily before hunting, but the final sprint is the key to whether they can feast.

The man warming himself by the fire pointed to the outline of the city wall on the south bank, illuminated by lights, and laughed loudly: "[Herdos] It's so short, does it even deserve to be called a city wall?"

The guards also joined in the unrestrained laughter.

The "city wall" in front of us was pitifully short, only a little over a person's height, not much different from a farmer's fence.

It's not even comparable to the walls of fortified cities and towns, let alone the walls of those wealthy manors.

In the Battle of the Wasteland, the Fire-Burning Force suffered heavy losses. Many of the current guards, night guards, and quiver soldiers are newly promoted.

These young Teldun nobles were all eager to prove their bravery and earn rewards.

The man warming himself by the fire drew his bow and shot a whistling arrow into the sky: "[Herdic] By the gods!"

The leaders, like wild dogs unleashed, each led their own troops and charged towards Zhevodan with a roar.

As the Teldonites peered at Ghevordan, Mason also saw the black silhouette on the horizon.

"This is really a big problem for me," Mason thought to himself, helplessly complaining about someone.

However, facing the trembling defenders, Mason enthusiastically offered a different explanation: "The tribunal of Montagne has already annihilated the barbarian army on the banks of the Pont d'Or! What's coming now are just scattered rabble!"

The walls of the city of Jervodan are about two meters high, made of rammed earth, with wooden frames on the inside for people to stand on.

With a formidable enemy at hand, the labor teams that built the city were directly conscripted into the army, becoming the glorious city-defending militia. The method of assigning posts was quite simple: whichever section of the city wall you built, you would go to defend that section.

The only fighting force in the city—the city guard, mainly composed of armed citizens—was kept in Mason's hands and not deployed to the city walls.

“Mr. Priskin,” Mason gently reassured the mayor beside him, “there’s no need to worry too much.”

Old Priskin had seen his share of storms, but even he couldn't stop his knees from trembling when faced with the barbarians charging like a tidal wave.

Upon learning that the barbarians had crossed the river from Forgetown, old Priskin strongly urged Mason to retreat to the old town and burn down the new town on the south bank.

But Mason firmly disagreed.

Left with no other choice, old Priskin tearfully bid farewell to his family and risked his life to stand with the tribunal of Mason on the walls of the new city.

As the Teldenans were about to reach the city walls, Mason calmly began to explain his decision to the old Mayor Priestkin: "The new city has nearly ten thousand people, and its supplies are also stockpiled here. Burning it down would cut off the Montagne tribunal's escape route."

Old Priskin was at a loss for words: "If we don't just burn it all, won't these supplies fall into the hands of the barbarians, and cut off Montagne's tribunal's escape route?"

"Do you know why I was the one who stayed in Gervodan?" Mason asked the old mayor with a smile.

Old Priestkin hardened his heart and, too lazy to flatter, said: "I don't know."

Mason clicked his tongue and sighed, "Because I'm best at defending cities. I planned this city myself, and I have confidence in it."

Old Priskin was on the verge of tears: "With such a low wall and so few people, where did they get the confidence? My God!" On the other side, the man warming himself by the fire and the old interpreter watched the battle from the hillside.

The land surrounding Gervodan has an eerie, jet-black color, unlike the yellowish-brown commonly seen in autumn and winter.

The old translator felt something was wrong, and after thinking about it for a while, he finally figured it out—it was too bald, the earth was bare.

The area around a city cannot be barren; the process of citizens migrating to the city's edge is the process of urban growth.

However, the area around the southern city was completely empty, with no houses, trees, villages... nothing at all.

The old translator looked around and found that the same was true for him: he couldn't find a single usable tree or a single bundle of grass to feed the horse.

"Perhaps it's a tough nut to crack," the old translator suddenly thought.

Outside the city, the deafening sound of horses' hooves grew ever closer.

Inside the city, a group of refugees were sneaking around the west gate of the new city.

"Halt! What are you doing?" Sergeant Ivan, guarding the gate, shouted sternly.

"The tribunal sent us to bring you some wine." The leader of the refugees grinned, but his feet never stopped moving.

Ivan didn't respond at all. Seeing that the other person was still walking forward, he simply took out his whistle, puffed out his cheeks, and blew it.

"Damn it!" The lead refugee drew a short blade from his chest and lunged at the guards: "Kill!"

Other members of the Teldun tribe [who had infiltrated the city] also rose up and attacked the guards.

"Spy!" Ivan roared, raising his shield and broadsword to meet the lead spy: "Protect the city gate!"

The guards were fully armored, but few in number; the surrendered people were numerous, but only had short weapons. The two sides clashed hand-to-hand, locked in fierce combat.

On the other side, Mason heard the whistle coming from Simon.

Mason mounted his horse, turned back and smiled at old Priskin, saying, "This place is now in your hands, Mr. Mayor."

After saying that, he led his guards and city guards toward the west gate.

"I...I..." Even when facing the Montagne tribunal, old Priskin had never been so disheveled. In desperation, the old man even cried out in a broken voice, "I've never fought a war before!"

On the hillside, those watching the battle by the fire saw the firelight flickering on the south side of the city wall and the gate wide open.

"We got it!" The man by the fire couldn't hide his excitement.

The old translator looked strange and remained noncommittal.

The dull sound of horns pierced the battlefield, and a troop of armored cavalry broke away from the main force, heading straight for the city gate where someone was waving a torch.

The other Teldun cavalry continued to charge around the city walls, firing indiscriminately to distract the defenders.

Charging the city walls with cavalry—even low ones—would be a foolish move. Lacking siege equipment, the ideal strategy for the Teldun was to attack from both inside and outside.

In mid-September, when the first raid failed, the fire-gatherers were already planning a second raid.

The Terdun tribe's [subordinates] infiltrated Iron Peak and Vaughan counties even earlier, before their first raid.

The so-called "allied people" refers to non-nomadic people who fled to the wilderness for various reasons and joined the tribes of Hart, the most common source of whom were criminals. It was only through the allied people that the tribes of Hart were able to learn about the internal affairs of Palatine.

Now that the surrendered forces have been secured, the most elite armored guards will storm the city walls to expand their gains.

The nobleman who received this honor was named [Naiya], and came from the family of the fire-breastener's mother.

"[Herd] By the gods!" Naya roared, charging ahead into the city gate: "[Herd] Leave no one alive!"

The remaining Teldun armored men screamed, roared, and laughed cruelly as they followed Kota into the city gates.

But... what about two-legged people?
Naiya was startled to realize there was another wall ahead and abruptly reined in his horse. The armored cavalry behind him couldn't dodge in time and crashed into it.

By the light of the brazier, Naiya realized that what was in front of him was not another wall, but a series of carriages connected end to end.

"[Herd] Ambush!" Naiya's eyes nearly burst open as he roared in despair, "[Herd] Get out!"

The gate slammed shut.

A flash of cold light, and a bloody hole appeared on Naiya's face. His hands swayed weakly backward, and he slowly fell from the saddle.

"Fire!" Lieutenant Colonel Moritz said coldly, turning to order Sergeant Chaussa.

Blacksmith Shao Sha—who had been temporarily appointed as a sergeant—shouted with a sob in his voice, “Fire!” and then pulled the trigger.

Other civilian musketeers gritted their teeth, held their breath, and pressed the firing lever.

The cavalry, now slowed, were sitting ducks, and the Teldun armored soldiers panicked. Several Teldun men leaped from their horses onto the city walls, trying to scale them over.

Another burly Terdon armored soldier, enraged, leaped onto the carriage, charged into the hands of the citizens with muskets, and with a single stroke, severed half of the shoulder of the Paratus in front of him.

The citizens of Ghevodan had never seen anything like it. Even the most boastful citizens were so frightened that they wet themselves, and some even threw down their guns and ran away.

Moritz raised his hand, and no one could see what he did, but the burly barbarian fell dead on the spot.

Moritz raised his hand again, and the citizen running in the lead suffered a sharp pain in his knee and fell to the ground.

"Don't run!" the portly blacksmith Shaosha cried as he loaded his musket. "Will running away save us? Kill the barbarians!"

Meanwhile, Mason had already led his cavalry to wipe out the spies who had attacked Westgate.

The allied forces of Teldun attacked the west gate, but the south gate was the one that had just been opened. The west gate was a decoy, and so was the south gate.

The labor teams were managed under military law, and headcounts were taken daily. Knowing how much bread was baked each day allowed them to determine the number of people in each labor team.

Upon learning of the disappearances of laborers, Mason had to prepare for the worst—there were Telton spies in the city.

However, there were simply too many refugees, and Mason's manpower was too limited to conduct thorough screening. If a large-scale search for spies caused widespread panic in the city, it would be even more counterproductive.

"Leave a few alive." Mason flicked the blood off his saber, calming his breathing, which was still erratic from the exertion. "Sergeant Ivan!"

"Yes!"

"Guard the west gate well."

"Yes!"

"Gentlemen! Sergeant Shaosha is still waiting for us at the South Gate," Mason said with an inviting smile. "Don't keep him waiting."

He had barely finished speaking when he spurred his horse and rode away. The other riders followed suit.

Outside the city walls, the Teldun cavalry discovered a colossal problem.

That was the city wall that the people warming themselves by the fire described as "quite short," but in reality, it was not only not short, but actually so tall that it was difficult to cross.

This is a wall that integrates walls and moats, a wall that Captain Richard Mason specially prepared for the Teldens.

[The name Mason itself means stonemason.]
[However, during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, stonemasons were not merely "craftsmen who manipulated stones." They were craftsmen's craftsmen, and their duties and authority were closer to those of architects and foremen. They were responsible for overall planning, hiring other craftsmen, controlling expenditures, and so on.]
[For example, if a lord wants to build a castle, the first thing he needs to do is find a stonemason; he hardly needs to worry about anything else, as the stonemason will take care of everything.]
[Another interesting point is that Freemasonry, in its original sense, was actually a brotherhood of stonemasons... that is, an architects' association.]
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(End of this chapter)