Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Visiting the Mitchell estate definitely called for some tidying up.

Therefore, Winters first took a bath in the river outside the town.

He had now learned to swim and quite enjoyed it.

Because in the water, the burden on his left leg wasn't as heavy as on land, which relieved much of the soreness.

Cleaning his body, shaving his beard clean.

Winters took off his ragged lumberjack clothes and carefully retrieved a set of starched and ironed military uniform from the bottom of his trunk.

This uniform had been patched up in several places, and although the mender was skilled, it was still noticeable.

To outsiders, it was a military uniform.

To the knowing eye, it was actually the summer uniform of the Land Academy's officer cadets.

These summer clothes were precisely what Winters wore when he was escorted to Paratu.

Official military uniforms had to be purchased individually, but no Venetian had bothered with Paratu military attire—except for the "vain" Lieutenant Andreya Chelini.

Even Andre's Piaoqi uniform deliberately chose a red waistband and blue trim different from the Paratu Piaoqi.

When Winters was preparing his winter gear last year, he made a cashmere coat.

But even under the coat, he still wore his old summer uniform, as a form of protest.

Since returning to Wolf Town, Winters had been wearing hunting attire.

Hunting clothes were not only comfortable but also had many pockets—which, as a Spellcaster, Winters greatly appreciated, and they didn't expose his identity.

Because of all this, the old summer clothes were pushed to the bottom of the trunk.

It was only for today's dinner at the Mitchells' that they saw the light of day again.

It was impolite to visit empty-handed, but Winters didn't have an appropriate gift—surely, he couldn't just bring money, could he?

After thinking it over, he brought two rabbits and plucked several bunches of wild roses before setting out.

Amidst the setting sun, the Mitchell estate was serene and beautiful, always giving Winters a sense of warmth.

Gerard's four hounds caught the scent of rabbit blood from afar and excitedly ran out to greet him.

The hounds were not only alive but had birthed a litter of pups. However, because the mother dog was underfed, her teats were shriveled up without milk.

Eileen, unable to bear it, took the puppies back to the house to care for them, feeding them with sheep's milk.

The four hunting dogs thus returned to the Mitchell estate.

Smelling Winters' scent, the hounds were extremely excited.

They didn't dare to pounce on Winters or snatch the rabbits. They just wagged their tails madly, running circles around Winters, trying to please him by licking his hands.

The dogs' enthusiasm always overwhelmed Winters. He held the rabbits high and soothed the dogs, "No snatching… Wait for autumn, and I'll take you field hunting then."

But the dogs didn't understand what Winters was saying and thought he wanted to play with them.

So they became even more excited, one of them so excited that it started to urinate.

"That's enough!" Scarlett came running to Winters' rescue, shooing the hounds away with a stick, "Naughty guys! Bad dogs!"

The hounds walked away with their tails between their legs, looking dejected.

"Thank you, Miss Mitchell," Winters heaved a sigh of relief: "Is Mrs. Mitchell around?"

Scarlett's face turned slightly red as she took Winters' arm, "Everyone is waiting for you."

Young Miss Mitchell was almost indistinguishable from a boy, her hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing trousers—unimaginable for a "proper" lady.

Eileen waited for Winters on the porch.

She took the bouquet with a faint smile, "Such beautiful roses, Mr. Montaigne."

"Oh?" Winters blushed, "Actually, I didn't even know they were roses…"

He had picked the flowers by the roadside, and they had left him with several small cuts.

"Then you should be careful, roses have many meanings, not to be given lightly," Eileen invited Winters inside, "The table is set, we were just waiting for you."

"Sorry for being late," Winters laughed heartily, discreetly loosening his waistband, "But I smelled the chicken stew from afar."

Winters handed the rabbits over to the maid and entered the Mitchell house.

Sitting beside the dining table was another guest; Winters could hardly believe his eyes.

"Good evening, Mr. Montaigne." Father Caman made a gesture of greeting, courteously saying hello.

Winters paused for a moment, then quickly walked up to Caman and gave the priest a bear hug.

This unexpected warm welcome left Father Caman at a loss.

He stood bewildered, arms held stiffly aloft, looking for help toward Mrs. Mitchell.

"Mr. Montaigne is very happy to see you," Eileen smiled with relief: "Father Caman."

Caman sighed, tapping Winters' back with disdain, "Alright… enough."

Scarlett, arm in arm with her mother, watched the touching scene unfold before her, her face brimming with smiles.

Winters released his arms, grabbed Caman's shoulders, and asked in surprise, "How did you get back?"

Caman replied with a wry smile, moving Winters' hands away, "Why shouldn't I be able to return?"

"I mean… how did you manage to come back?"

"I am a cleric," Caman's tone was light, "Naturally, if I want to return to my parish, I can."

Winters asked eagerly, "Do you know the whereabouts of the others?"

"I lost contact with some, others have been called by the Lord," Caman's expression turned gloomy, "I came back alone."

"What about Mr. Michel? Did you meet him?"

Caman shook his head, "No, I haven't. I have already informed Mrs. Mitchell. I didn't encounter Mr. Michel."