Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 533 Calming the Raging Spirit (Fifteen)
The little lion smiled tolerantly: "'Lord of Tiefeng County,' as long as you don't intend to renege on your debt, there's no shortage of ways to settle it."

"For example?" Winters' face showed not a trace of a smile.

Seeing that Winters was determined to get to the bottom of things, the little lion blinked, leaned forward, and got closer to Winters. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by footsteps.

Pierre lifted the curtain and came in carrying a small stool.

The little lion immediately stopped, distanced himself from Winters, and winked at the latter.

However, Winters ignored him and repeated his previous question: "For example, what?"

Upon hearing this, the little lion smiled politely at Pierre, then turned to Winters and asked amicably, "[Herd] For example, could you please send your little puppy away first?"

Winters gave a half-smile. “Pierre,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he translated for Michel, “Lord Yahatch said you are my ‘son of a bitch’ and asked if I could get rid of you.”

Pierre stood solemnly behind the Blood Wolf, not even glancing at the little lion, and replied in a deep voice, "I am Your Mastiff, and I will go wherever you command."

Winters looked at the little lion again and solemnly told him, "Pierre Gerardovich Mitchell has my complete trust. So you can say whatever you want to him."

He paused for a moment, then added emphatically, "Moreover, Mr. Mitchell is the one who will be liaising with the Red River Tribe in the future. The more important the matter you want to discuss, the more he should be present."

The little lion looked up at Pierre, who, despite being lifted up by the blood wolf, showed no sign of gratitude or smugness.

The military governor of the newly reclaimed land stood behind Blood Wolf like a statue, eyes fixed on his nose, nose on his mouth, and mouth on his heart.

The little lion stared at Pierre for a moment, shrugged, stood up, straightened his robes, and formally extended his hand to Pierre with a slight smile on his face: "Your Excellency, it will be our turn to deal with each other from now on."

Pierre initially did not react until Winters nodded slightly to him, at which point he stepped forward, silently extended his hand, and symbolically shook hands with the lion cub.

"Alright, alright, I know the Governor's position now, let's get down to business."

The little lion lifted his robe, sat down casually on the stool, and went straight to the point:

"Settling accounts is actually quite simple—you're not short of goods, Herstace. The hammers along the St. George River clang every day, and the furnaces at the foot of Iron Peak Mountain billow thick smoke daily; you can't hide it from me."

“If your information is really as good as you think, then you should know, Little Lion,” Winters calmly replied, “we do not currently have enough iron to exchange for what you have sent.”

The little lion feigned ignorance: "Since you know that the scrap metal you have is not enough to pay off your debts, and you are in dire need of our goods, why don't you offer something of greater value in exchange?"

"For example?" Winters spoke at a measured pace.

Seeing that the person was pretending not to know, the little lion frowned and let out a short growl: "I really can't stand you Venetas, stop playing dumb!"

Pierre felt the lion cub's gaze deliberately sweep over him.

The little lion said gruffly, "Bring out what we really want! Sabers! Muskets! Armor! Poison! We'll take as much as you can offer, and you can name your price—of course, it has to be fair, and not too outrageous..."

The little lion took a breath, stared at Winters, and said in a seductive tone, "I know you're short of large livestock right now, while we have plenty of them. Just nod, Herstace, and I assure you in the name of the White Lion's brother, horses and cattle will be delivered to Iron Peak County, right to your doorstep, all you have to do is nod..."

"Is the war in the Red River Tribe not going well?" Winters interrupted the little lion who was talking non-stop.

The little lion raised an eyebrow: "Why do you ask that?"

Winters didn't answer, but his eyes told the other person, "You know why I asked that."

"On the grasslands, no one would complain about having too many bows and swords." The little lion countered, "Aren't your battles going well? Aren't you also constantly forging weapons?"

Winters remained noncommittal, while Pierre narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly—the little lion was talking a bit too much.

After a moment of contemplation, Winters asked politely, "Can I acknowledge that if we refuse your request, our existing business dealings with you will be affected?"

"Of course." The little lion grinned, revealing two sharp teeth. "Do you really think we traveled all the way from the north bank to the south bank to do business with you just to buy your two broken pots?"

Pierre let out a cold snort.

“I am aware of your request.” Winterston paused for a moment, “but I cannot give you an immediate reply. This matter requires not only my permission but also the understanding of my colleagues.”

"Oh! Right! I heard!" The little lion slapped his thigh, feigning sudden realization: "You guys came up with something... like a tribal alliance..."

"Hey!" The little lion looked at Winters, half-provocatively and half-jokingly, and asked, "Things that you could have decided yourself, now you need someone else's approval; the tribe that used to belong to you alone has now become someone else's property. You...you've basically given yourself a father, haven't you? Why do this?"

This attack couldn't harm Winters Montagne in the slightest; he smiled politely but didn't reply.

But Pierre could not tolerate anyone insulting Blood Wolf. He stood up abruptly and forced out a warning through gritted teeth: "Lord Yahatch, watch your words."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." The little lion waved his hands repeatedly, apologizing with trepidation: "I'm just a barbarian, I don't understand your customs."

“You…” Pierre’s eyes widened.

Winters gently patted Pierre's leg, and the next second, Pierre sat back down, but still glared at the little lion.

"Alright, stop glaring at me, Your Excellency, your eyes are practically popping out of your head." The little lion said with a smile, "You're not really that angry, are you? There's no need to put on this act. Even if you do nothing, Herstace won't mind."

Pierre clenched his fist tightly this time.

Ignoring Pierre, the little lion asked Winters with a smile, "Did you two rehearse beforehand?"

“Not at all.” Winters easily dealt with the little lion’s sarcasm, and asked with a smile, “But you cooperated quite well.”

"good."

"Thank you for the compliment." Winters steered the conversation back to the main topic: "Regarding your request, once the Provisional Supreme Council has reached a conclusion, I will send the fastest horse and the best messenger to inform you."

“No need for all that trouble.” The little lion put his hands behind his head, leaned back slightly, yawned, and said casually, “I’ll be waiting here until I get an answer. So just tell me when you have the result.”

Winters' attention sharpened, but outwardly he merely gestured to Pierre: "Mr. Michael will provide food and lodging for your men." Sure enough, the little lion continued, "The livestock are living creatures and must be dealt with as soon as possible. Since you don't have enough, I hope you'll agree to let me dispose of these livestock myself at my own pace."

"How do we 'get rid of it slowly'?" Winters patiently played dumb with the little lion.

The little lion smiled slightly: "Of course, it's because someone comes to buy, and we come to sell."

Upon hearing this, Pierre's eyelids twitched.

The trade between Chihe tribe and Tiefeng County has always been a one-stop shop for buying and selling.

In the lion's territory, the blood wolf only does business with the white lion; in the wolf's territory, the white lion also only does business with the blood wolf.

The little lion was essentially threatening that if Winters Montagne's side did not meet their demands, the Red River tribe would seek new partners.

Winters kindly reminded them, "The Telden tribe only came once last year, and the Heard people are finding it difficult to be welcomed in the new settlements now."

The little lion said calmly, "On the grassland, wolves have their paths, horses have their paths, and lions naturally have their own paths."

Winters pondered for a moment, then asked pointedly, "Are you making a request or informing us?"

"What if I ask?" The little lion remained unmoved: "What if I tell you?"

“A request, too, needs to be discussed and approved by the Provisional Supreme Council.” Winters’s gaze sharpened as he looked directly into the little lion’s eyes, his tone carrying a warning: “If it is an notification, I would appreciate your prior notice.”

The little lion tried to fight for a while, but eventually gave up.

The little lion looked away: "Just take it as a request."

“Thank you very much.” Winters nodded and said, “I will give you a reply as soon as possible.”

After saying that, Winters gestured for Pierre to see the guest out.

"Wait! There's one more thing!" the little lion shouted. "This matter doesn't require the approval of that committee, so give me an answer now!"

"Please speak," Winters said, a hint of curiosity appearing between his brows.

"There are still many Hed people on the Taniri Islands," the little lion said rapidly. "Aren't you a Venetian? Doesn't the Venetians now occupy half of the Taniri Islands...?"

“It’s three-fifths,” Winters instinctively corrected.

"what?"

"It's okay, you continue."

"No matter what, you must have some connections in Veneta, right? My brother and I are counting on you to help us ransom the tribesmen imprisoned on the islands and send them back to the grasslands..."

The little lion stared intently at Winters and said emphatically, "Just like we helped you return the Parat people who were stranded in the Great Wilderness. Will you help us?"

Winters grunted in response.

This request, which should least be refused today, has put Winters in a difficult position.

Seeing Winters' expression, the little lion frowned and added, "The price is negotiable."

“It’s not about the price,” Winters said with a wry smile, explaining sincerely, “Since I set foot on Palatul’s soil, I’ve only had a handful of communications with my family in Hailan. And given the current situation, I can’t think of a way to safely send them back to Palatul from Taniria. In comparison, ransom is much simpler…”

The little lion grew increasingly disappointed, but he also realized that Winters' words were all true and that he hadn't lied.

He sighed heavily: "Then... then let's leave it at that."

“However, I assure you,” Wintes said, holding the little lion’s hand and looking into its eyes, “I will do everything in my power to bring those who have been stranded in the Taniri Islands back to their homeland, as long as conditions permit.”

Finally, he added:
"No charge."
-
[after a while]
After seeing the lion cub off, Pierre returned to his tent and his first words were:
"It's true what they say, sir, that making deals with lions never ends well."

“That’s business.” Winters, though he had never done any real business, still unconsciously put on the airs of a Venetian in front of Pierre, and smiled faintly. “The White Lion is in control now, he has us in his grasp. If I had the chance, I would have the White Lion in my grasp too.”

"Then what can we do?" Pierre asked unwillingly. "Are we just going to let the barbarians of the Red River tribe do as they please?"

Upon hearing this, Winters' smile vanished, and he solemnly warned Pierre: "First of all, the White Lions are not 'barbarians,' nor are the Red River Tribes. Have you forgotten how heavy a price we paid for treating them as 'savages'?"

Pierre was silent for a moment, then replied bitterly, "I will never forget it."

Winters noticed Pierre's deep-seated hostility toward the Heards, but now was not the time to lecture Mr. Littlecher, so he remained silent for the time being.

Moreover, this hostility is practically instinctive for the Parat people. So, this educational opportunity isn't a big deal.

“Secondly,” Winters continued with a smile, “our deal with the Red River Tribe is mutually beneficial if we cooperate, and mutually destructive if we split up. Whoever can show the least fear of mutual destruction will have the advantage in this tug-of-war. If the White Lion wants to control us, we can control him just as well.”

"Then what should I do?" Pierre asked. "Should I put the lion cub under house arrest?"

"No need. Take good care of the little lion and wait for my news." Winters smiled. "I'd like to see who the Red River Tribe can hook up with."

Pierre nodded and then asked, "Bell just sent a message saying that the 'grand banquet' at the palace tent is almost over. Would you like to go back and show your face again?"

"Show your face?" Winters subconsciously touched his eye socket, hissing in pain. He said irritably, "Show your face? Your swollen face?"

Pierre smiled and said, "Then I'll tell Bell to just send those drunkards away."

Winters rubbed his eyes and suddenly had an idea. He jumped onto the cot and waved to Pierre: "Come on, follow me, I'll take you somewhere!"

After saying that, Winters strode out of the side tent, and Pierre followed him, puzzled.

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