Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

At the crack of dawn, the labor convicts of Wolf Town were brought to the ruins of the church, where they cleared the debris under the supervision of the militia.

The militia were responsible not only for oversight but also participated in the reconstruction work, handling some of the lighter tasks.

The charcoal mud and black ash had to be shoveled away, the charred wood cleared, and any usable slates or bricks had to be picked out and taken to the river to be washed clean.

Wolf Town was very small, with so few buildings that they could be counted on one hand.

The church became abuzz with activity; the town center instantly resembling a bustling construction site.

The construction of a church was a grand event wherever it took place, and for many believers, it was even more sacred and glorious than constructing water conservancies or laying down roads.

Thus, everyone worked exceptionally hard, even the "slave laborers" who were forced to toil.

However, on such a significant occasion, Montaigne, the Garrison Officer, was nowhere to be seen.

The onsite commander was his deputy, Mr. Mitchell.

It wasn't that Winters was deliberately avoiding the event, but rather because the fire had reached his eyebrows, and he had more urgent matters to attend to.

As everyone was engrossed in clearing the rubble, just across the street in the Wolf Town barracks, a man with bloodstained clothes was awakened by a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

"Name, affiliation." The voice questioning him was very indifferent, hardly resembling a question.

The man hadn't regained his senses yet, and his eyes were still adjusting to the light.

Staring at the questioner in a daze, he briskly received a solid punch to the ribs—only then did he realize there were two more interrogators in the dim room.

"Name, affiliation."

The man gasped in pain, and with difficulty, he spoke in fits and starts, "I am... I am Sergeant Gulaxi from the Revodan garrison..."

"Proof." The indifferent voice continued to question him.

"Sir... how could you possibly not recognize me?"

The lighting was poor, but Gulaxi could still make out that the other person was wearing a military uniform.

In fact, he had already recognized the uniform during the skirmish last night.

Most importantly, after over a decade in the military, Gulaxi could identify the other's tone, attitude, accent, and demeanor at a glance.

Having lived for years in The Federated Provinces, the speech of orthodox military officers unconsciously carried a slight accent from the mountain front, something that couldn't be faked.

Even Gulaxi hadn't realized this point; he just knew the other person's way of speaking was that of a military "intonation."

"Clothes mean nothing." The officer was unmoved: "Bandits can wear military armor too. Who is the commander of the Revodan garrison?"

A glimmer of hope ignited in Gulaxi's heart. If the other person wasn't a bandit, then there was a chance for survival, "It has been Major Ronald, always has been."

"Everyone knows Major Ronald."

"And Captain Apel! Lieutenant Akos! Lieutenant Alec!"

"Affiliation."

Gulaxi desperately reported every piece of information that could prove his identity, "Revodan garrison military police squad, my name is Gulaxi, many people know me..."

The questioner gestured with a hand, and another person gave Gulaxi a vicious punch.

Gulaxi almost cramped with pain, and this further cemented his certainty: the other was an officer. A legitimate one, not a counterfeit.

"I'll ask, you'll answer."

Gulaxi nodded frantically.

"You're military police."

"Yes." Gulaxi dared not speak further.

"You're military police. Why were you running?"

"I..." Gulaxi was a bit aggrieved, cautiously stating, "You were chasing first, that's why I ran..."

After saying this, Gulaxi involuntarily braced for another punch.

The anticipated punch never came.

Instead, the voice continued to ask, "You were skulking around Wolf Town, spying. Why wouldn't I chase you?"

Gulaxi faintly realized that the other person was actually easy to talk to.

So, he spilled everything he could, "I wasn't spying on you, honestly, believe me. More than twenty days ago, a conscription team was robbed, the escort fled back to Revodan, and Major Ronald ordered us to come and investigate. I followed the trail here, saw the town was building houses, and out of curiosity, I wanted to take a closer look... Now that no one's building anymore, I was simply bemused..."

"Us?"

"There have been several grain looting incidents in Iron Peak County these past two months. The Colonel sent out the entire military police squad. We go wherever there's a case to investigate... It's all a misunderstanding..."

The questioner cut off Gulaxi, "Who does Revodan currently take orders from?"

Gulaxi hesitated for a moment, then quietly answered, "From the Corps, Maplestone City, General Adams."

"That's enough." The questioner stood up, delivering his verdict unhurriedly, "You remain a prisoner for now, held in solitary. I'll make a trip to Revodan, and once your identity is verified, you can go."

"Thank you, sir!" Gulaxi, relieved to have kept his life, was too delighted to care about anything else; imprisonment was a trivial matter in comparison.

Winters left the shack and walked towards the command tent, with Samukin following behind him.

"Are you really going to Revodan, my lord?" Samukin asked anxiously, "I'll accompany you."

Winters smiled and explained to Samukin the rationale behind his decision, "Whether I go to Revodan or not, we need to stabilize him first. Give him a bit of hope, or else he will certainly try to escape."

"Then why not just kill him?" Samukin asked as if it were the most natural question.

"He knows something. We'll keep him for now, he might be useful," Winters explained, "The guy named Ivan is also locked up."

In fact, a soldier of such rank would know very limited information. Winters wasn't keen on wanton killing.