Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Winters abolished corporal punishments, because he believed preserving the labor abilities of the criminals was better than rendering them disabled.

And at that moment, on Revodan Square, the public trial was the first implementation of the Military Code.

One by one, soldiers who had looted amidst chaos confessed and faced the law. Their granted lands were taken away, and they were sentenced to death.

However, since there had been no written military law explicitly stating "looting equals death penalty" during the chaos of the battle at Hammer Fort,

Their sentences were reduced by one degree, to the loss of granted lands and five years of hard labor.

Most deserters did not plead guilty, insisting they were not soldiers; but when soldiers from their same unit testified, their sophistry became meaningless.

Deserters had no room for a reduced sentence: they were hanged.

This was the first efficacy of the Military Code that Winters had to witness, heart heavy with reluctance, yet he still gave the hanging orders with no expression on his face.

One by one, the deserters were pushed to the edge of the execution platform.

Winters watched as their bodies fell naturally, only to be violently snapped by the noose.

Their necks could not withstand such force and were instantly broken. Consciousness extinguished, leaving nothing but corpses gently swaying on the rope.

Within Winters' knowledge, these were the first bodies of deserters executed after a trial in history.

From the outcome's perspective, it was simply a death. But from the process, these deaths might bear extraordinary significance.

Winters sighed deeply in his heart and faced his soldiers, reading the Military Code to them for the first time.

The soldiers listened intently, not needing to understand fully as they would hear it recited again and again in the future.

They only needed to know that this harsh yet fair code held inviolable efficacy—as evidenced by the dangling corpses before them.

The citizens of Revodan also listened in silence.

They were likely hearing about written military law for the first time, and it was probably the first time they heard of military discipline being enforced so "well."

That the military did not plunder or disturb civilians was most agreeable to them. Yet, they couldn't help but wonder: could any army really adhere to the laws as well as claimed?

Seeing the swaying bodies and the young man on the platform who was reading out the code, a glimmer of hope arose in the hearts of Revodan people—perhaps it was possible.

The first edition of the Military Code was publicly read in its entirety for the first time. It wasn't perfect, it had loopholes, yet it already took a small yet significant step.

Revodan Square was so quiet, one could hear a pin drop.

"For Blood Wolf!" Former acting Centurion, now Captain of the first company of the Iron Peak County Infantry, Thomas suddenly flushed red, "Three cheers!"

"wooah! wooah!" Thomas bellowed, leading the cheer.

"Uukhai!" the soldiers roared in response.

"wooah! wooah!" Other Company Commanders and non-commissioned officers joined Thomas, thumping their chests to guide everyone.

"Uukhai!!" The cries grew more synchronized and louder.

"wooah! wooah!"

"Uukhai!!!" Soldiers from all twelve companies used the last of their strength to scream: "Uukhai!!!"

This was a cheer that not even the triumphant hero from over fifteen hundred years ago had heard.

And Winters, like that hero from fifteen hundred years before, calmly accepted it.

"Bring the third batch of prisoners up," Winters said to Heinrich.

The matter wasn't finished; there remained a group of people to be dealt with.

Heinrich, upon the order, escorted the third batch of prisoners out of the carriage.

Sasha, supporting the elderly Priskin, felt the old man's body tense up instantly.

Those who emerged from the carriage were prominent citizens of Revodan, including six members of the city council, and startlingly, Priskin's grandson among them.

Heinrich led the third batch of prisoners toward the execution ground.

Out of the blue, old Priskin dashed towards the execution platform with agility that belied his age, leaving the blacksmith Sasha who never expected such vigor from the elder, quickly following behind.

Winters also noticed the small commotion up ahead and, seeing the old man running over, thought he was coming to plea.

Old Priskin, with tears streaming down his face, pulled out a purple sash from his bosom and shouted, "I, John Priskin, on behalf of all the citizens of Revodan, wish to nominate Captain Winters Montagne as the Military Protectorate of Iron Peak County!"

Winters couldn't help but let out a wry smile.

However, with the crowd's emotions running high, people arranged by Priskin ahead of time began to cheer in response: "Protectorate! Protectorate!"

"Protectorate!" the soldiers, unwittingly caught up in the moment, began to join the chorus, "Protectorate!"

They actually had no idea what a [Protectorate] was, but since everyone was shouting fervently, it surely must be something good, right?

Winters heard clearly, Priskin had distinctly said "Military Protectorate," yet eventually everyone in the square was shouting "Protectorate."

Military Protectorate and Protectorate were completely different things, and Winters didn't know how to explain to the thousands of cheering people in the square.

Even Andre and Senior Mason were rowdily joining the shouting.

Winters raised his hand for silence, and the cheering slowly faded away.

The title of Military Protectorate was dug up by Priskin from some old documents, clearly with consideration.

It was a role between a legion commander and a centurion, neither too high nor too low, perfectly fitting for the size of the Iron Peak County's forces.

How could he not know the old man's intentions? By nominating Winters as the Military Protectorate in his name, it was a move to completely strip away the facade of the garrison, to pledge direct allegiance to Winters.

The motive? Nothing but to exchange his grandson's life—that said, Winters had never planned on executing Priskin's grandson from the start.