Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 421 Friendship
[Thervordan]
[Officers' Housing Area]
The young man in military uniform, walking ahead, quietly pushed open the door to the first-floor bedroom, then turned around, lowered his voice, and said apologetically:

"There were a few vacant officers' quarters, but Major Seber and his men came back from the wasteland a while ago and took them all without a word. I'm sorry, you'll have to squeeze in with Lieutenant Colonel Moritz for now."

Looking over the shoulder of the young man in military uniform, Axel of Orange surveyed the room's layout:

The tables, chairs, doors, and windows were all wiped clean, clearly indicating that a thorough cleaning had just taken place;

The bedding was complete, and it seemed to have been taken from the bottom of the trunk not long ago. The creases on the sheets from being pressed for a long time hadn't faded yet, and they carried a unique, unused smell.

A table, chairs, and writing instruments were placed in front of the bed. On the desk was a small bookshelf filled with books. Judging from the titles on the spines, the books were probably specially selected for his liking.

"This is good enough." Ike was touched, and jokingly asked, "You should put me in a cell. After all, I'm a prisoner. Aren't you afraid I'll run away?"

The young man in military uniform smiled, gently pushed the door shut, and explained in a low voice, "Living next to Lieutenant Colonel Moritz is safer than living in a prison cell. Besides, Lieutenant Colonel Moritz is not like that other major with a bad temper. He is easy-going and has a good temper. You won't be mistreated here because of your rank."

Ike didn't quite understand what the other person meant, but he nodded nonetheless.

The young man in military uniform seemed to remember something, so he adjusted his collar and coughed lightly. "But there's one thing to be careful about—please, please don't make any loud noise. The lieutenant colonel... he hasn't been in good spirits lately, spending most of his time meditating, trying to sleep, and sleeping. If you're disturbed, he... he might accidentally hurt you..."

Ike listened intently, but the more he listened, the more confused he became.

The young man in military uniform blinked, seemingly realizing that he had described the problem as too serious. He quickly waved his hand and said, "But it's only a possibility. You don't need to worry too much. The lieutenant colonel is normal most of the time."

"Or, would you rather send me to the dungeon?" After hearing the young man in military uniform's words, Ike was both amused and exasperated. He involuntarily lowered his voice and asked in feigned anger, "Are you suggesting I share a room with a runaway warhorse, Winters?"

“Perhaps more dangerous than a runaway horse.” The young man in military uniform—Winters Montagne, leader of the Iron Peak County rebels, the infamous Blood Wolf in the small circle of officers stationed in Palatour, and Ike’s close friend—sent a moment of thoughtful contemplation with his gaze lowered, then looked up and answered with a serious yet witty tone:

"A cannon out of control is a more accurate metaphor!"

Upon hearing this, both of them laughed.

The two looked each other over, feeling both familiar and strange. Nearly three years had passed since they became trainee officers.

Three years have given Ike the demeanor and temperament of "high society," like a beautifully sculpted portrait from stone. Axel of Orange has also shed his childishness and grown into a handsome and approachable young man.

Winters, on the other hand, underwent a complete transformation. Three years of honing his skills had almost completely stripped away the remaining hypocrisy and affectation of his "high society" persona, revealing a resilient steel core within. Time had not smoothed out his edges; instead, it had made his features more defined. He became lean, dashing, capable, and agile, exuding an untamed, wild charm and a towering, unwavering confidence in every gesture.

Their eyes met, and Ike shook his head, then wearily collapsed onto the bed, burying his head in the pillow and letting out a long, comfortable sigh.

Then he turned around, gave his old classmate a thumbs up, and praised him half-jokingly: "It's been two years, and your sense of humor has improved a lot."

The young man in military uniform unbuckled his belt, pulled out a chair, and straddled it backwards. His arms were folded over the edge of the chair back, his head tilted, and he asked with an innocent smile, "Why do you think I'm joking?"

"Hmm?" Ike propped himself up on his arms and sat up again.

“The officer who shares this apartment with you,” Winters said, pointing to the ceiling, half teasingly and half boastfully, “is not necessarily the most powerful spellcaster in the republics, but he is certainly the most dangerous. Do you still think I’m joking?”

Ike instinctively held his breath, the hairs on his arms and back stood on end, and he involuntarily sat up straight.

Just as Ike was still processing the shocking intelligence, the young man in military uniform patted Ike on the shoulder and said optimistically:
"But don't worry, I've taken everything with a point in this house, not even a pitchfork. So even if the cannon goes out of control, it's just an out-of-control cannon without ammunition. Besides, the lieutenant colonel's mental state has been improving recently, so he shouldn't hurt anyone."

A surge of intense curiosity welled up inside Ike: "Uh, this... Lieutenant Colonel Moritz, what's wrong with him? As for what you said..."

He instinctively wanted to find out more, but then he remembered his status as a prisoner and immediately stopped—because he didn't want to use his friendship with Winters to find out about the rebels.

“You’d better not tell me.” Ike shook his head. “I won’t ask again.”

“It’s alright.” The other person’s frankness was unbelievable to Ike: “The lieutenant colonel is trying to quit drinking. I heard it was terrifying before—but I wasn’t there at the time. He’s been getting much better recently.”

"The more you explain, the more scared I get. Or, how about I come stay with you?" The more sincere the other person was, the less I wanted to listen. He changed the subject, deliberately drawing out his words, "Oh, I forgot, you're already married!"

"Fiancée." The young man in military uniform blushed instantly, and he explained embarrassedly, "Fiancée."

"She's a real beauty!" Ike said enviously.

"Heh." The young man in military uniform unbuttoned his collar and said casually, "It's nothing special."

Ike couldn't help but sigh deeply: "You're like a racehorse that doesn't know the hardship of pulling a horse! I heard that you have a beautiful woman from a wealthy family who is willing to throw herself at you, and everyone is so jealous of you! When we were in Guitu City, let alone having a beautiful woman throwing herself at us, even if we were occasionally invited to a ball, we could only watch others make the ladies laugh."

"It can't be called 'paying off others,' to be precise, it's called..." The young man in military uniform rubbed his forehead, pondering hard, "I don't know how to describe it, mutual affection?"

"Tell me," Ike said, intrigued. "Tell me how you two fell in love. I'd like to learn something from your experience."

"It all started with a slap."

The young man in military uniform was initially quite interested, but then he tilted his head, looked at the ground, and pondered. It seemed he was recalling bits and pieces, organizing his thoughts. After a while, he sighed, smiled, and said, "It's a long story, I'll tell you later."

“Okay.” Ike vaguely sensed that his friend seemed unwilling to talk about his fiancée in such a frivolous manner, so he didn’t press the matter. He changed the subject again, deliberately blaming him: “But you got engaged without telling me, isn’t that too much? How hard could it be to send a letter? Winters Montagne, I never thought you were such a cold-hearted person.”

"Actually," the young man in military uniform cleared his throat awkwardly, "we're not engaged yet."

"You're not even engaged yet, and you've already brought her over to live with you? I...I..." Ike's eyes widened in shock at first, then he collapsed onto the bed like a punctured water bladder, whimpering in frustration, "I'm so envious of you!"

"You're in Guitu City," the young man in military uniform asked. "Have you heard about me too?"

Ike didn't answer. He sat up straight, knelt on his hands, looked directly at his friend, and said seriously, "Winters, please don't ask me anything about the military situation in the United Provinces—and I won't answer. At the same time, I won't inquire about your military situation either. Is that alright?"

“No problem.” The young man in military uniform laughed heartily: “You are my prisoner, but you are also my classmate and good friend. There’s no conflict.”

Ike breathed a sigh of relief.

To be honest, from the moment they met, a faint distance existed between them; it was invisible and intangible, yet it was real.

How could there not be any distance between them? Even blood relatives would feel awkward upon reuniting after many years. Not to mention that Winters Montagne and Axel Orange were not only friends but also enemies, each carrying different responsibilities and missions.

So when Winters Montagne and Axel Orange reunited, they both tried to maintain the atmosphere of the conversation, tacitly avoiding asking things that might offend the other, and carefully looking for "safe topics".

Because they cherish this friendship and do not want it to be tainted, destroyed, or desecrated.

However, this "deliberately ingratiating" and "cautious" way of getting along is precisely the main source of the "sense of alienation".

After Ike made his bottom line clear, the invisible barrier disappeared, and the two returned to their inseparable and talkative state from when they were in school.

"It's nothing really." Ike leaned back, propped himself up, and said with a smile, "Many of your classmates know about you."

"Oh?" the young man in military uniform asked in surprise.

"When we learned that you were sent to Palatine and your classmates from Palatine were sent overseas, everyone was furious. We felt that this was neither honorable nor fair." Ike sighed. "Everyone was concerned about you, so they tried every means to find out about you. Whenever someone had any new information, the students of the 21st class would know very quickly. When they learned that your ranks had risen so quickly, everyone joked that you had turned misfortune into blessing."

The young man in military uniform listened attentively, nodding repeatedly. Ike observed his friend's expression—the latter seemed to have many questions. But in the end, the young man in uniform asked nothing, only smiling self-deprecatingly: "I knew it! When did I become so popular? Anyway, if you have the chance, please thank everyone for me."

“Your intelligence was the most sought-after.” Ike, his memories stirred, pulled the blanket down to lean against him, shifting into a more comfortable position, and said with great interest, “Everyone thought you were dead in battle, and they even held a memorial service for you. Some people even cried at the memorial service. Do you remember Danilo Orsper?”

"Of course I remember, but wasn't he from the cavalry?"

"He said that although you weren't likable, you weren't a jerk either." Ike mimicked his classmate's tone: "And then 'you just died so inexplicably, under the hooves of barbarians, and they couldn't even find your body. It's such a waste! Such a waste! Why?!'"

The young man in military uniform subconsciously touched his nose: "Why do I feel like... he still remembers the time I punched his nose and made it bleed for three days?"

"Didn't he beat you black and blue too?" Ike chuckled and retorted, "And then the two of you cleaned toilets for a month?"

"Let me clarify something," the young man in military uniform said righteously. "You were the ones who provoked us first, calling us Veneta profiteers, so we beat you up. Besides, I was dragged along to help. Andrei was the one who charged in first! He was also the one who organized the fight! In the end, I cleaned toilets for a month."

A smile, the kind that only appears when reminiscing about the past, played on Ike's lips: "Can't a fight that ends in a draw be called 'beating up'?"

"Anyway, you provincial cadets bullied us Veneta cadets the most back then." The young man in military uniform couldn't help but laugh, "In the end, we still had to fight a few times to settle things."

“It wasn’t that we ‘fought’ to get along,” Ike corrected. “It was because the courses and training were too intense, and the instructors were particularly annoying. In the end, everyone was united against the instructors, so naturally there were no more conflicts.”

"Yeah." The young man in military uniform leaned casually against the desk, his face showing that lazy, smug smile he had during his student days.

The two seemed to have thought of something, and silence fell over the small bedroom.

“Oh, right,” Ike tried to break the silence with a new topic, “I saw Andrei. You know, that big guy from the cavalry, the really dumb one… ah, you probably don’t need me to explain.”

"Is that so?" the young man in military uniform replied cooperatively.

Ike said casually, "If he hadn't confirmed my identity, I probably would have stayed in the POW camp for a long time."

"Did he say anything strange? Or make any sarcastic remarks?" the young man in military uniform asked curiously.

“No, he didn’t say anything. He even offered me a few words of comfort—though, judging from his tone, it sounded a bit sarcastic.” Ike forced a smile. “So I think he’s not as annoying as he used to be.”

"Oh."

There was another moment of silence.

“Bad is in the south, and he’ll be coming to Zhevodan soon.” The young man in military uniform raised his voice slightly: “He’ll be very surprised to see you.”

“Ah, Mr. ‘Bishop’—I would love to see him too.”

There was another moment of silence.

Although both of them tried their best to find lighthearted topics, the atmosphere inevitably became increasingly heavy.

“Winters.” After hesitating for a long time, Ike finally spoke. He sat up, leaned forward, and looked earnestly at his friend: “I know very well that there are many bandits and villains among the militia of Shovel Harbor. But there are also many ordinary civilians among them—tenants who have nowhere else to go, farmers who have been forcibly conscripted, and refugees who just want a full meal.”

The young man in military uniform listened attentively to every word.

“I know the defeated have no right to make any requests.” Ike’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He knew he was interfering in someone else’s actions with personal friendship, but he felt it was his duty to do so. He asked with difficulty, “Can you let them go home? You can rest assured that they will not have the courage to resist you again.”

After a moment of silence, the young man in military uniform spoke: "I'm sorry, I cannot grant your request."

Ike suppressed his disappointment and nodded gratefully.

“But I guarantee they will be dealt with fairly.” A smile appeared on the young man in military uniform. “In fact, I intend to take in the tenants, farmers, and vagrants you mentioned.”

Upon hearing his friend's words, Ike was caught off guard, so even though the other person spoke clearly, he still subconsciously asked, "What did you say?"

“I want to incorporate the ‘good parts’ of your troops into my own,” the young man in military uniform calmly repeated.

Ike saw apology in the eyes of the young man in military uniform, but also approval. The latter explained, "Originally, I planned to release the other Shovel Harbor militiamen on the spot after identifying the criminals. However, according to the battle report, the Shovel Harbor militiamen demonstrated an unexpected level of training and discipline..."

Ike felt a pang of bitterness: "'Unimaginable training and discipline,' yet they suffered a crushing defeat despite having a numerical advantage."

The young man in military uniform struggled to find a reason, carefully choosing his words, not wanting to hurt his friend's pride. Finally, he uttered with great difficulty, "That...that's not just a gap that training can bridge, not to mention the fact that the militia in Shovel Harbor severely lacks combat experience...to train that rabble to that level is already incredibly impressive; I know I couldn't do it myself..."

“Alright.” Ike shook his head. “Don’t make excuses for me. This is war—losing is losing, there are no excuses.”

The young man in military uniform was silent for a moment, then brought up the previous topic again: "In short, it's a pity to disband the prisoners at Shovel Harbor. Both of my company commanders have suggested that they be incorporated into the army."

Ike felt even more bitter: "You mean, because of me, you won't release them on the spot?"

"Correct."

“They… I’m afraid they won’t be willing to serve you.” Ike wanted to try one more time: “Mayor Potal has instilled a lot of propaganda in them that you are rebels. Even if you forcibly incorporate them, they are not reliable enough, and it’s hard to guarantee that they won’t surrender again someday.”

"Then we'll wait and see," the young man in military uniform replied succinctly.

There was another moment of silence.

The young man in military uniform stood up: "You can move freely within the officers' quarters. Sorry, Ike, but you can't freely enter or leave other places."

"Why apologize?" No explanation was needed; Ike understood his friend's good intentions. He smiled and said, "If I saw something I shouldn't have seen, wouldn't that put myself in a morally awkward position?"

The young man in military uniform tightened his belt again and invited, "Come to my house for dinner? I'll introduce you to Anna."

“Okay.” Ike waved his hand and said with a smile, “Go on, go on, let me grieve alone for a while. I’m in a hurry to have a good cry, so I won’t see you off.”

The young man in military uniform nodded and walked to the door. After opening the door, he turned to look at Ike.

"Don't take it to heart," he said.

Ike said helplessly, "I didn't threaten to commit suicide, what are you doing?"

"Then I'm leaving." The young man in military uniform gave Ike one last look before striding away.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Ike felt an indescribable sense of loneliness, frustration, and confusion.

When the footsteps completely disappeared, he buried his head in the pillow and silently shed tears for the first time.

Outside the window, a pine branch that had just sprouted new buds was swaying forlornly in the wind.

[67884/100000]
[A classic recollection of glorious past times—referring to leading fellow students from the same province to challenge students from other provinces to a duel, which ended with him cleaning toilets for a month.]
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(End of this chapter)