Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

The sky was just beginning to lighten when Winters stepped out of the military camp and went for a swim in the river west of the town.

He first warmed up with two back and forth swims and then began to try diving to the bottom of the river.

By the time he got ashore, he found that Bard was waiting for him.

"When did you learn to swim?" Bard asked with a smile, sitting on Winters's clothes.

"I taught myself."

"Still practicing diving?"

Winters's heart ached at the mention of it, "Our dear Lieutenant Cherini got so excited he threw the Grand Cross into the river. I'm feeling the riverbed, maybe I can find it."

"Why bother fishing that thing up?" Bard was unconcerned.

"Why bother?" Winters was furious, "That's gold! If you don't want it, you can at least exchange it for food! We should really look into Andre's lineage; I really don't know what kind of Venetian he is! Such a big piece of gold, thrown into the river in a moment of heat, and here I am, getting up early to fish it out."

Bard laughed heartily, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

He handed the clothes to Winters, "I have a question for you. I heard that at the beginning of July, an assassin broke into Kingsfort Army Headquarters and killed Sekler. Was it you?"

"Who's been spreading rumors about me?" Winters was furious, "When have I ever engaged in assassination?"

"Mmm, good," Bard said reassuringly, patting the assassin's arm, "As long as you can respond with that attitude to anyone who asks, that's enough. Also..."

Bard was interrupted because Winters hadn't finished yet, "I marched in through the front gate with my military sabre, and I marched out the same way. How does that become an assassination? When have I ever engaged in assassination? I always act with integrity and openness!"

Winters suddenly thought of the Monta gang at the Sea Blue docks.

With a twinge of guilt, he repeated, "When have I ever engaged in assassination in Paratu? I always act with integrity and openness in Paratu!"

"Oh? So you've engaged in assassination elsewhere?" Bard sighed.

"That's none of your business," Winters turned his head away, "Just not in Paratu."

"Did you leave any survivors?"

"I'm not some villain. I wouldn't kill him if he didn't stand in my way. But it was dark then, and no one could see clearly who was who."

"Your Spell, nobody would mistake it," Bard sighed heavily, "From what I see, this won't just end like that. But Kingsfort is thousands of miles away, and even if they knew you were in Wolf Town, they couldn't reach you. Right now, there are more important things— are you distributing land to refugees to cultivate?"

"Yes," Winters pointed across the river with a hint of pride, "There's Newly Reclaimed Land over there. They're landless tenant farmers and laborers, and I have wasteland, as well as oxen, horses, and ploughs; it's a perfect match."

Bard listened intently, then suddenly asked, "Do you know the latest news from Maplestone City?"

"I haven't heard a thing. Before I met you all, I could only get bits and pieces of information about Revodan."

Bard smiled slightly, "Maplestone City has been as busy as you recently."

"The New Reclamation Legion is also recruiting refugees for land cultivation?" Winters asked, frowning.

But soon he realized, "That's not surprising. Without farming, they'd starve. Maplestone City cannot simply give food to refugees for nothing."

"Exactly. In Sea Blue, in Drenthe, there are many ways to make a living, even beggars have a loaf of bread to eat. But for farmers, if they don't farm, they starve – that's the harsh truth of their lives."

Once separated from the land, people gradually forget that food is grown from the soil— this was the case for Winters in the past.

"If you don't farm, you starve," he hadn't understood the deep meaning of this phrase two years ago as he did today.

Tenant farmers and laborers from all over were fleeing en masse, effectively removing a large labor force from production suddenly.

The mountain of snow hadn't collapsed because there was still surplus grain from the previous year, or even the year before.

But sooner or later, a greater disaster would strike the land, as the farmers still in production could not support so many mouths.

It would be either famine or rebellion, not a choice between the two, and probably both would occur simultaneously.

It was seeing this that Winters had made every effort to restore production. He didn't want to see a famine, nor did he want to see chaos, so he was like dousing fire with water.

Bard fiddled with a few pebbles in his hand and said, "Disasters are man-made to drive landless farmers to flee. Then recruit them, distribute land for cultivation. Henceforth, the legion suddenly becomes the largest landlord in the Newly Reclaimed Land."

"Impressive, truly worthy of someone who wields the sword," Bard looked up at Winters, sneered, and said, "But the legion has always been the largest landlord in the Newly Reclaimed Land, so it doesn't really make a difference."

Issuing land for refugees to cultivate, something Captain Montaigne could think of, General Adams could too, and probably even more profoundly.

"Are you saying that all this was intentional?" Winters was surprised, yet not surprised.

Bard stood up and walked to the riverside to skim stones. He spoke calmly, "Not necessarily planned; it might also be just taking it one step at a time. However, since it has happened, we can only analyze the outcome."

Winters fell into deep thought.

Wolf Town was too small, the population too low, the potential insufficient, and most importantly, there was no time.

There was no time for him to accumulate strength. The legion might tolerate corrupt officers, it might tolerate incompetent officers, but it would never tolerate officers who rebelled.

If the New Reclamation Legion stabilized its footing, it would take only a light punch to reduce Wolf Town to powder.

That's why he wanted Revodan.