Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"Take care of this!"

Winters handed an arrow to Vashka, Samujin, and another veteran, Tamas.

The arrows were engraved with serial numbers.

These three were the centurions he had chosen.

Winters had originally wanted to assign personnel based on their place of origin, but he realized this was more trouble than it was worth.

So he reassigned all the soldiers, making the veterans centurions.

The three other people he trusted the most: Pierre stayed by his side as an adjutant; Anglu and Xial also stayed by him as messengers and military police.

"The arrow is your token. Do not break it. If it breaks, everyone gets whipped," Winters solemnly admonished the centurions, "and do not get separated. If one soldier strays, the rest will share the punishment!"

The three newly promoted centurions nodded emphatically.

At this moment, Winters's face did not show his usual mild demeanor but was filled with murderous intent:

"No noise during the march or battle! Violators will be whipped! Anyone who alerts the enemy will be beheaded!"

"If enemies break through your encirclement, do not chase after them. Just continue to close in and drive the remaining enemies toward the designated location."

"Try to take them alive! We don't want the dead!"

After declaring the discipline, Winters took out four maps, three small and one large.

He gave the small maps to the centurions and unfolded the large map for everyone to see.

Winters then took out three horse-head chess pieces, and began to explain the routes to the centurions.

Vashka, Samujin, and Tamas listened with glazed eyes and furiously nodded, trying to understand.

Suddenly, Winters noticed something and, looking directly at them, asked coldly, "You three… can you read the map?"

Vashka habitually continued to nod.

Winters kicked him in irritation, exclaiming, "You know nothing! You're holding the map upside down!"

Vashka didn't dare dodge, taking the boot squarely and hurriedly turned the map right-side up.

Seeing his comrade straightened out, Anglu covered his mouth to hide a snicker.

"Brother Reed taught you grammar and spelling rules," Winters then turned to Anglu, "How much do you remember?"

"Uh... uh?" Anglu stuttered, "I've forgotten most of it."

Winters let out a sigh from the depths of his chest; the pain he felt was like the one Ned Smith had once experienced.

He slapped his forehead, then his thigh, "After dinner, everyone come to me!"

"For... what?" Pierre asked cautiously.

"Class."

…

At dawn, as the sun was about to rise,

Vashka led eleven soldiers through the woods, forming a loose line.

All of them carried boar spears and hit tree trunks with the shafts as they walked.

The length of the boar spears was less than two meters and didn't require formation for use. The spearhead had two side branches to prevent spearing too deeply and not being able to pull out.

The beasts in the forest ran away long before they got close to the noise being made.

In the distance, a similar beating sound could be faintly heard.

Winters, along with Pierre and a few others, waited at the closing point, almost mad with frustration: "Where is Samujin's team? Where have they died?!"

Pierre, Xial, and Anglu were also anxious, waiting for word.

Winters's forces were visibly devolving from an [agricultural settlement mode] to a [hunting and gathering mode].

The main reason was the lack of food. Ellen Mitchell had helped him gather some, but it was far from enough.

Winters couldn't afford to sit and watch their provisions dwindle; his forces also had to participate in production.

With the natural conditions of the Newly Reclaimed Land, the most immediately productive methods were "hunting and gathering."

It wasn't that Winters wanted to regress to primitive society; there was simply no other choice.

After living with the Hurd tribes for three months, he had gained a deeper understanding of different forms of social organization.

As a part of the Hurd tribes, the Paratu People were gradually choosing farming over herding. Not because farming was easy – it was much harder than herding.

Now, Winters could only choose the simpler path.

It was currently July, mid-summer, and not the best hunting season.

Moreover, most of Winters's men had been farmers in the past, unaccustomed to the business of hunting.

Fortunately, Winters and the veterans had accumulated some experience: during the battle at The Styx, Winters had once led his troops to hunt wild animals in the Bridge Woods.

On second thought, he didn't want to bring up The Styx again; just thinking about it caused a pang in his chest.

He now missed the young hunter, Bell, terribly.

If the young hunter were here, it would save him a lot of trouble. But then he considered that if Bell returned, he would certainly bring the little creature with him.

Feeding forty people was already difficult for Winters; that little creature's gaping maw could easily bankrupt him.

With only forty men, he couldn't conduct a large hunt, only a small one.

So when choosing the target, he was very cautious, only aiming for a small group of deer in the forest to the northeast of Wolf Town.

The three groups of men had entered the forest from three different directions an hour before sunrise, corralling and startling the herd, driving the deer toward the position where Winters was waiting.

The location where Winters was waiting had already been prepared with pits, and was presided over by the most "ferocious" Spellcaster officer from Paratu.

As long as the beasts were driven into place, success was assured.

What wasn't expected was a complication—Samujin's team had disappeared.

Winters was furious, no longer caring about stealth, he bellowed, "Anglu!"

"Yes!" the little groom replied reflexively.

"Go find Samujin! Tell him! If he fails to show up on time again and lets the deer escape, I will tie his whole team to trees and whip them!"