Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Looking through the door, the first thing Winters saw was a pair of shoe soles and... a big beer belly?

The owner of the beer belly was sprawled out on a bench by the window, fast asleep, emitting deafening snores. His snoring was so loud and unique that each breath seemed as if it would choke him.

"Sir, wake up... An officer from the city is here to see you," the old clerk attempted to wake the man with thunderous snores.

No matter how gently he patted the other's shoulder or arm, the mayor just wouldn't wake up. The old man gritted his teeth and slapped him hard on the face.

"Kill!" The sleeping man jolted awake, leaping up from the bench and shouting. Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire

After seeing Voyik and Winters, the man paused, wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, and asked with an embarrassed smile, "Ah? What's going on? Who are these two?"

The clerk reintroduced Voyik and Winters, and Winters took a closer look at the man before him.

The mayor of Wolf Town was a short man, a full head shorter than Winters. But he had a thick neck, an even thicker waist, and, judging from his upper body, one might think he was taller than Winters.

Propping up his bulky torso were two short, thick bowlegs, not something found on the average person, clearly indicating he was an excellent horseman.

His dense brown curly hair was interspersed with many silver threads, showing that he was no longer young. Yet his two blue eyes still held the carefree expression of youth.

Those blue eyes sat on a round face, beneath which were a large nose and a wide mouth. When he laughed, it was hearty and sincere, betraying not a hint of pretense, a spiritedness that was rough around the edges but vibrant.

With just a glance, Winters felt a strong sense of fondness for this burly man.

"Haha, my apologies!" The mayor of Wolf Town chuckled, scratching the back of his head, "I'm Gerard, Gerard Pleninovich Mitchell. The townsfolk elected me mayor because my house is close to town. Tell me whatever matters you have."

Voyik didn't speak but handed a missive to the mayor instead.

Gerard chuckled, scratched his head again, and passed the document to the clerk, "I don't recognize many big characters. Panveche, read out what's written in the letter."

The clerk—now we knew his name was Panveche—accepted the document and read it carefully. Then he looked up at Winters and said, "Sir, this Lieutenant Montaigne is the new Garrison Officer."

"Hey, that's great! Finally, a Garrison Officer is here!" Gerard slapped his thigh with delight, grabbing Winters' arm and laughing, "This fine young man! How wonderful! Our Wolfton finally has its own Garrison Officer! Fantastic!"

Gerard then realized that the young man in front of him was not his son and quickly let go. He laughed apologetically, "Sorry, sorry! I'm just too pleased! Wolfton has been lacking a Garrison Officer since its establishment, for many years now. Now that we finally got one, and such a fine young man at that, it is a cause for great celebration!"

Voyik obviously didn't want to linger. He took out a purse and handed it to Winters, "This is your salary for this quarter. The duties of the Garrison Officer are simple and are all listed in the appointment letter. The army's couriers will visit periodically; they will be responsible for delivering your future salary."

Winters accepted the purse wordlessly, saluting in respect.

Looking at Winters, Voyik seemed somewhat reluctant. He led Winters out of the town hall, sighed, and said, "In the Republic of Palatu, a Garrison Officer is actually just a military representative in the New Reclamation Area. Just oversee law enforcement and the militia, that's all, it's quite easy, not much to do. Hang in there, and you'll be able to go home once the issues are resolved."

Winters knew this was true, nodded his head, and saluted respectfully once more.

Lieutenant Voyik patted Winters on the shoulder and left with his Cavalry.

Three days before, every Lieutenant Vineta had received their appointments. They were assigned as Garrison Officers to various small towns and ordered to assume their posts immediately, without delay.

Perhaps they meant to scatter the Lieutenant Vinetas in this way or maybe there was another purpose. Winters didn't know the decision-making process of the Palatu military, but it was clear they had made their stance known: they would not let the Lieutenant Vinetas return home until the people of Palatu were satisfied.

Most of the postings for the Lieutenant Vinetas were in the "New Reclamation Area."

If the Republic of Palatu was the furthest edge of the Alliance's territory, then the New Reclamation Area was the very edge of the Republic of Palatu's territory. And Wolf Town—where Winters had been assigned—was at the very edge of the New Reclamation Area's territory.

Winters was now at the edge of the edge of the edge of the Senas Alliance's territory, possibly even the furthest edge of "civilization."

Thus, beyond this place to the west lay a vast uninhabited area nearly a hundred kilometers wide, and beyond the uninhabited area to the west was the land controlled by the barbaric Hurd tribes.

These "towns" in the New Reclamation Area were almost all established as "village amalgamations" in the last decade, sparsely populated, and cut off from communication. Almost no officer wanted to be stationed in such places, which is why the position of Garrison Officer, including in towns like Wolf Town within the New Reclamation Area, had been vacant for so long.

It was now conveniently used to house this batch of unwanted Vineta "guests."

Gazing at the desolate frontier town before him, Lieutenant Montaigne suddenly felt an indescribable sense of loneliness.

Fifty-six kilometers north from here, Lieutenant Andreya Chellini was experiencing the same feeling.

At this very moment, in the small towns dotted along the border of Palatu, every Vineta-born lieutenant was thinking about the same thing: going home.