Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

But the young deputy priest saw everything clearly, and Winters' actions puzzled him considerably. However, he did not stop Winters, just watched as the new Garrison Officer followed the crowd and left the church.

Actually, Winters also found the presence of the deputy priest quite strange. Such a small church certainly did not have the right to have two official clergymen, yet the Wolf Town church did have two. But Winters was not interested in religious charlatans, so he did not inquire further.

Outside the church, the weather was clear and crisp, with several layers of light-colored clouds floating high up in the sky.

Gerard was leading a few people in setting up the targets and the field. The targets, lifted from the church's backyard, were placed on the meadow beside the church.

Seeing this, Winters went over to help.

Wiping his sweat, Gerard said to Winters, "Lieutenant, we never had a Garrison Officer in town before, so I had to fill in. Lieutenant Montaigne, from now on, the Sunday archery training is in your hands."

"Sunday archery training?" Winters asked with an odd expression, "You don't mean the 'Bow and Arrow Decree,' do you?"
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"Yes, that's right! The Bow and Arrow Decree!" responded Gerard with a laugh.

The Bow and Arrow Decree was an imperial-era law that required all men to participate in archery training after church services.

After Gerard's explanation, Winters learned that this law was never abolished in Paratu.

The Paratu Grand Council had never passed a specific repeal of the law—suggesting strong suspicions of governmental indolence—and thus the Bow and Arrow Decree remained in place.

However, the decree had lost its mandatory force, and for the townspeople, archery had become akin to a recreational activity. After all, shooting a few arrows on a Sunday morning was hardly a chore.

Winters never expected to find such a "historical relic" level of weekend activity in this remote small town. After he and Gerard finished setting up the targets, the archery training officially began.

Women and children, old men who could not draw a bow, and some men who considered archery beneath their status stood aside as spectators.

About a hundred young men lined up, waiting for their turn to shoot.

Some brought their bows and arrows, evidently very confident in their shooting skills, standing in the line like proud roosters, waiting to show off in front of their fellow villagers.

As for those without their own bows and arrows, they used the cheap poplar practice bows provided by the town hall.

A farmer brought his homemade sweet beer, pushing barrels and loudly hawking it for sale.

Some traveling merchants from other regions also took advantage of Sunday to sell small items like needles and thread.

No one cared about the doctrinal command of "no labor on Sundays," and the usually quiet Wolf Town was now extremely bustling.

Winters' duty was quite easy, as long as he watched out for anyone retrieving arrows from the targets being accidentally shot.

If a shooter missed the target, the spectators would let out jeers.

If a shooter hit the bullseye, the spectators would cheer loudly.

The simple joy was infectious, and even Winters, whose thoughts were full of returning home, couldn't help but wear a light smile.

At the same time, Winters also keenly noticed a few out-of-place adult men in the crowd, not fitting in with the jubilant atmosphere.

They were unkempt with disheveled beards and clothes, their faces mostly sullen, neither participating in archery nor mingling in the crowd around the targets.

Even the common folk of Wolf Town deliberately gave these people a wide berth.

Only the farmer brewing illicit liquor liked them, as they stood by the barrel drinking cup after cup of beer.

Although Winters had thought about fleeing countless times, running back to Vineta, as long as he was in office, he had to fulfill his duties.

Therefore, the Wolf Town Garrison Officer stopped the shooters by his side and pointed to those men, asking, "Who are those people? Are they locals? "

The young man who was shooting followed the direction Winters was pointing, shook his head, and replied, "Sir, those fellows are from the lumberyard. Hired from outside to chop wood."

Winters wanted to ask more, but Gerard invited him over.

Inside the town hall, besides Gerard and Sergei, there were two other men, one old, one young.

The old one looked to be in his thirties or forties by build, but the scars marring his face were like a spider web. His skin was tanned dark, and his lips were tightly pursed. He was holding a roll of leather in each hand.

The young one seemed to be only fifteen or sixteen, still at an age of youthful innocence, curiously looking around with big eyes. He was holding an unstrung one-piece bow, about a meter in length, smaller than one for an adult.

Upon Winters' entrance, Gerard reintroduced him to the others, "This is the new Garrison Officer of our town, Lieutenant Montaigne."

Pointing to Sergei, Gerard introduced, "This is Sergei Vladimirovich, the Dusack of Dusa Village."

Hearing the title of Dusack, old Sergei proudly puffed out his chest.

Gerard then pointed to the older and younger hunters and introduced, "These two are hunters of our town, Ralph and his son Bell. Ralph, if you have something to say, speak."

The Hunter Ralph first respectfully removed his hat and bowed, then with an anxious expression and tense tone, warned the two Wolf Town officials, "Sirs, the wolf plague is coming!"