Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

At the break of dawn on Sunday, the blue-gray sky twinkled with sparse morning stars. The wind blew down from the mountains, stirring up a moist mist. The breath of the earth was cool and comfortable, and the sun remained lazily behind the horizon, unwilling to rise.

Living in the eastern part of Dusack Village in Wolf Town, old Sergei woke up early. First, he stared blankly at the old saber hanging on the wall of the inner room. Only then did he sluggishly pull on his trousers, slip into his cloth shoes, and while heading outside, he buttoned up his shirt.

Standing at the entrance of his yard, Sergei silently admired his own small courtyard: the newly built storeroom and livestock shed were covered with neat tiles, the large animals of the house were peacefully chewing hay, the grain stores were full, and the old woman and children of his home were still sound asleep...
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Prosperous, comfortable, carefree—these were good days that the former Sergei Vladimirovich could not even have dreamed of.

After looking around for a while and feeling satisfied, the old man headed toward the backyard. Skirting along the wall, he reached the outside of his younger son's window.

"Vasya! Son!" The old man knocked on the wooden window: "Come on, let's go up the mountain to check the traps."

[Note: Vasya is a term of endearment for Vashka]

Sergei knocked several times before Vashka, bleary-eyed, got up from the bed. He pushed open the window and asked softly, "Dad, what are you saying?"

"Come on, let's go check the trap I set on the mountain the day before yesterday."

"But today is Sunday!" Vashka complained.

Sergei urged unconcernedly, "It won't delay your trip to the church. Come on, come on, we can be back before the sun comes up."

The son, unable to prevail over his father, reluctantly grabbed his clothes and pulled them on.

Meanwhile, his father had led out two horses from the stable.

Vashka helped Sergei with the harness, and the two Dusacks led the horses out of the red willow fence and mounted them, galloping toward the forest south of the village.

If one were to look down from tens of thousands of meters in the air, one could clearly see two tall mountain ranges that run north-south, almost parallel to each other on the southern edge of Senas Bay.

The north one is Sheltering Mountain, and the south one is Golden Summit Mountain. This natural geographic division inevitably also results in a political divide.

Thus comes the saying, "Between two mountains."

And Wolf Town is located at the foot of Jinding Mountain, nestled against the north slope of Golden Summit Mountain, a settlement carved out from shrubs and woodland.

This small town is not only at the far western edge of the vast Alliance territory but also at its southernmost point, beyond which lies the uninhabited primeval forest.

Continuing further south would lead to a sharp rise in terrain. The primeval forest is replaced by alpine meadows, where only weeds can grow until reaching the snow line.

On a sunny day, the millennial snow on the highest peaks of the mountain range glimmers in the sunlight, resplendent like it is made of gold.

Hence, the name "Golden Summit Mountain Range."

Naturally, Sergei and his son were not heading that far. The people of the various villages near Wolf Town who "rely on the mountains to live" only frequent the periphery of the forest on ordinary days.

Sergei rode his own old horse, sparing his old companion from being sent to the village pasture. Vashka, on the other hand, rode a two-and-a-half-year-old horse, a robust and strong animal.

But the old man was an excellent rider, and even in cloth shoes and riding an old horse, Vashka couldn't catch up to him.

Sergei rode with great joy, whipping the reins and howling with delight as he filled his belly with the wind.

Vashka, trailing behind, thought to himself, "Checking the traps? The old man probably just wanted to take the horses out for a run."

Soon they arrived at the edge of the forest, and Sergei pulled on the reins, cheerfully saying to his son, "Vasya! Isn't it wonderful! So refreshing! Going for a horse ride in the morning energizes the whole person!"

However, Vashka, whose sweet dreams had been disturbed, merely rolled his eyes inwardly and urged his father to hurry and inspect the traps.

Following his memory, Sergei led his son deeper into the woods.

Sergei had quite the luck; the first two traps both contained prey, a rabbit and a pheasant.

The old man became even happier, joyously saying to his son, "Blessed be! Vasya, maybe we might find a deer today! I dreamt a few days ago that a deer's antlers had smashed the roof, maybe it'll be a splendid stag!"

Vashka didn't respond but hurried his father to find the last trap.

When they found the last trap, they discovered two men had already squatted beside it. And on the trap—only a shattered deer leg remained.

...

After coming out of the woods, Vashka didn't go straight home, but instead, as instructed by his father, he took the rabbit and went straight to the home of Mayor Mitchell.

Leaving the field ridges, stepping onto the village dirt road, and letting the horses run for a while, Vashka could already see the roof of the mayor's house.

Vashka went around a neat row of oak trees, and a beautiful white two-story house appeared before him. The Sergei family had just a wealthy farmer's small courtyard, but the house in front of him was the estate of a major landowner.

At the sound of the hooves, two hunting dogs began to bark loudly.

Gerard Mitchell's son and Vashka had been playmates since they were little, and Vashka was very familiar with the Mitchell estate.

But this time, he encountered a strange face, a young officer he'd never seen before, standing with Gerard in the open space in front of the house, both holding sabers, apparently practicing something.

"Alright, stop barking!" Hearing the barking, Gerard saw the visitor and scolded the hunting dogs.