Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Sergei had several times asked Winters indirectly if he had any engagement.

Since the Sergei family had no daughters, who else could he be asking for?

Winters insisted that he was already engaged, and his fiancée was in Sea Blue.

But Sergei muttered, "We are so far from Sea Blue, even if there's an engagement, it might not count."

"Being poor is so painful!"

During the nights of restless tossing and turning, Winters Montagne lamented in this way.

But it was not possible for him to borrow money from the Mitchell family. On the contrary, the more generous the Mitchells were to Winters, the less he dared to incur their favors. Read latest stories on My Virtual Library Empire

In fact, Winters was already considering moving out from the Mitchell's when the time was right.

All things considered, besides three months' salary, the only valuable Winters currently had left was... Anna's pendant box.

It was pure gold.

But the pendant box could not be sold; if it were, Miss Navarre would surely tear Second Lieutenant Montagne to pieces with her bare hands.

"Being poor really is painful!"

In the midst of another sleepless night's restlessness, Winters Montagne lamented once again.

In the end, it was the two cufflinks given by Antonio that saved the day.

The Winters family was very strict with money management, but he himself did not have a strong concept of money since he never had to spend much at the military academy.

So the two cufflinks that Antonio handed to him without much thought were not taken seriously by Winters. He wore them for important occasions, and even took them with him during his return to Guidao City for the award ceremony.

When a person is driven to the edge, even the smallest hope is clung to tightly.

Filled with thoughts of money, Lieutenant Montagne looked at the two cufflinks given by his uncle and suddenly had a bold idea.

After confirmation from the blacksmith, Winters finally confirmed that the two cufflinks he always thought were made of bronze... were indeed pure gold.

And so was the belt buckle given by his uncle.

Even separated by a thousand miles, the wisdom of elders still filled Winters's empty purse.

And so the poor Second Lieutenant Montagne suddenly had money. Though not a lot, it was almost enough to buy a serviceable warhorse.

Buying toys brings great joy, and the happiness of a man is that simple.

And a warhorse, in some ways, is a big toy.

All of Winters's long-held resentment vanished, and he couldn't wait to inquire with Gerard about which family in Dusa Village had a warhorse for sale.

Although he was too embarrassed to accept more goodwill from the Mitchell family, the matter of buying a warhorse could not escape Gerard's notice.

Instead of avoiding any appearance of impropriety, Winters felt it was better to straightforwardly ask for Gerard Mitchell's assistance.

Gerard's eldest son Pierre, upon hearing that Second Lieutenant Montagne wanted to buy a warhorse, was also excited to join in.

The public pasture of Dusa Village was located on the flat land south of the village without any fences. Unattended alfalfa and rye grew at will, giving the meadow a beautiful cream-yellow hue from afar.

In the distance to the south, brown and black spots twinkled as a herd of horses ran toward a water pond. A small figure bouncing up and down on horseback like glue, herding the horses.

"Hook!" Standing up in the stirrups, Pierre waved his hand excitedly towards the direction of the horses and shouted, "Anglu!"

The figure on the horseback in the distance heard the call and waved his hat in response.

"Come here! Come here!"

The rider put his hat back on and raced towards Winters and the others.

"That's the horse-herder from Dusa Village, Anglu." Gerard pointed with his whip to the approaching rider and said with a laugh, "No one knows the horses in the village better than him. Let him pick a decent one for you!"

The horse driver urged the horses to run swiftly, and soon he was drawing near to the group.

It was only then that Winters noticed the horse driver's frame was very thin, and although his face was tanned dark, it could not hide his youthfulness.

"How come it's a kid?" Winters was greatly surprised.

"Little Hook is already sixteen, isn't he? He's not a child anymore." Gerard said with a smile, "Don't underestimate him because of his young age. He has been managing the horse herd on his own for two years, and he's done quite well."

"Two years?" Winters was even more surprised, "So he's been a horse driver since he was fourteen?"

"That's right," said Gerard matter-of-factly.

"He's not from Dusa, is he?"

Pierre immediately retorted, "Hook is definitely a Dusan!"

It was Gerard who understood what Winters meant. With a sigh he said, "Little Hook's father died of illness, and his family didn't have their own land. Hook's mother brought him to find his father, but not long after they arrived at Wolfton, she also fell ill and died. The kid likes horses, so I had him follow Old Pick to manage the horse herd. Old Pick also passed away from a fall while drinking two years ago, and the boy has managed the horse herd on his own pretty well... Ah, but he's finally old enough; once he goes to do his service and comes back, he'll also be able to have his own land."

In the span of a few sentences, the horse driver had already arrived by their side.

The teenager on horseback performed a beautiful dismount and ran over to Pierre. Pierre got off his horse too, and the two joyfully started horsing around, even wrestling each other to the ground.

Having learned of Winters' purpose, "Hook" Anglu led the group towards the horse herd that was drinking water.

Winters immediately took a liking to a majestic green horse, but the horse driver shook his head, "Sir, that Trell Green is the breeding stud of this herd. It's got a terrible temper, you can't ride it."

As his gaze traveled around, Winters spotted a black horse, "How about that black horse?"

Gerard pursed his lips and smiled.

The horse driver, whose voice was still breaking, answered in a quacking tone, "Sir, that one is a mare. It was brought over for breeding, just waiting to have a foal next year. How could we possibly sell it?"

The situation became somewhat awkward, as Lieutenant Montagne from the infantry had encountered his weak spot. At this moment, he dearly missed his classmates Bard and Andre.

Winters gave up thinking, "Anglu, you pick one for me."

"Yes, sir! That 'Rejek' over there is quite good," the young horse driver pointed at a chestnut horse and said.

Winters looked where the horse driver was pointing, and the horse perked up its ears, looking over alertly. But judged by the standards of "strong runners," the chestnut horse seemed a bit too short and small.

In fact, Lieutenant Montagne's only standard for assessing horses was that they looked good.

Given they looked good, the bigger they were, the better.

Looking at that chestnut horse, Winters said with some hesitation, "Isn't that horse a bit... small?"

Gerard and Anglu both burst out laughing, while Pierre and Winters were a bit puzzled.

Over fifty years old, Gerard was so amused that he could barely catch his breath; hands on his hips, he said, "Lieutenant, we Dusans judge warhorses not by size, speed, or strength... but by endurance. Only a horse that can run continuously is a good warhorse."

"Rejek is only three years old, but his stamina is really amazing," Anglu added. "The small horses are both nimble and light, perfect for jumping fences. Once it turns four, its stamina will be even better, and then it can be brought back for breeding."

Convinced by the two Dusans, one old and one young, Winters was also tempted, "Will the owner be willing to sell?"

"As long as the weather's fair, good horses are like crops in the field, one yield after another," Gerard laughed. "What can't be sold? I will go negotiate with the owner for you."

Since the horse experts said so, Winters was no longer hesitant. Gerard took his son to discuss the price with the horse's owner, leaving Winters at the pasture to chat with the young horse driver Anglu.

Looking at the serene horses grazing, Winters asked curiously, "By the way, how do you Dusans name horses?"

"Dusans don't name horses; we just refer to them by their coat colors," the young horse driver said laughing, showing a mouthful of teeth. "But we Dusans have hundreds of words just for describing the colors of a horse's coat."

The young driver added, "Rejek refers to that mix of chestnut and red, with a white spot on the forehead."

The deal was soon struck.

The horse's owner gave a very reasonable price.

Having borrowed a set of horse tack, Winters Montagne rode off on Rejek, leaving Wolf Town.