Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

[Monta Republic]

[Horn Fort]

In the early morning, two soldiers, one old and one young, led a pack horse out of the city, heading towards the mountains west of the city.

Like most Monta cities, Horn Fort was also situated in a valley. However, the valley where Horn Fort was located was larger, and the slopes surrounding the city were gentler.

Leaving the main road, passing through the village on the outskirts, and following a winding path trodden by shepherds, the two soldiers struggled to climb up to the mountaintop.

The higher they climbed, the sparser the surrounding vegetation became, and the steeper the path grew. The white mountain body began to be completely exposed on the surface, and occasionally, rocks would break off and roll down the slope, dangerously passing by them.

By the afternoon, they finally reached their destination—a simple stone hut on the ridge. Both the men and the pack horse were already exhausted, drenched in sweat, with their knees and legs shaking.

Standing before the stone hut, the young soldier wiped the sweat from his forehead, turned to the old soldier, and asked in confusion, "Is this the place?"

The old soldier, who had climbed up behind him, was panting heavily, looking at the stone hut with some uncertainty as well.

He glanced at the road they had come from and surveyed the surroundings of the hut. After a long effort to recall, he finally answered, "This is it."

"It doesn't seem abandoned," the young soldier muttered quietly.

The old soldier led the pack horse toward the hut, "Let's go inside and take a look."

The door of the stone hut was propped from the outside with a tree stump. Moving the stump aside and entering the hut, they saw a rudimentary bed made of wooden boards and stone slabs in the corner, with some compressed dry grass on top.

Beside the bed was a blackened iron pot, and the stone wall behind it was also sooty black.

The old soldier pulled out a sickle from under the bed board, "The shepherds have been using this as a resting place."

"What should we do then?" The young soldier scratched his head, "Should we throw all this junk out?"

"Don't worry about it," the old soldier waved his hand, signaling the young soldier to get to work, "We'll do our job."

Then, the two of them worked together to unload the saddlebags from the pack horse and carried them up the steps outside the hut to the rooftop.

Looking down at the valley from the rooftop, the lake in the center appeared like a drop of mercury on a green silk, reflecting a metallic sheen in the sunlight;

Horn Fort, situated by the lakeside, seemed like a clasp of a necklace, embracing the lake with its red tiles and white walls, looking exceptionally beautiful.

After a whole day's journey, it was the first time for the young soldier to have the strength to look back at the road they had come from, and he couldn't help but sigh, "Just for this view, it's worth climbing the mountain for a day."

The old soldier also felt a bit moved, but he just gazed silently, seemingly trying to connect the current scene of Horn Fort with the images in his memory.

After a moment, he turned around, facing away from the peaceful and harmonious valley, and continued to focus on his work.

As they continued clearing, on the rooftop of the stone hut, something resembling a smelting furnace began to reveal its form.

The old soldier cleaned out the accumulated ash at the bottom of the furnace, repaired the collapsed furnace wall with stones and mud, and then stacked the firewood they brought, dry and wet alternately, inside the furnace.

"Is this how it's done?" The young soldier beside him asked with some distrust.

The old soldier paused his hands for a moment, his gaze dimmed a bit, then quickly continued stacking, "Too long... I can't remember."

The firewood soon filled the furnace, and the old soldier untied an oil can from his waist, pouring the kerosene around the firewood.

At the final step, it was time to light the fire. The old soldier took out a fire striker and flint, but he hesitated to strike.

The young soldier was puzzled to see the old soldier delaying.

"You go ahead and light it." After a moment, the old soldier handed the flint and striker to the young soldier, saying hoarsely, "It's your turn now."

The young man happily took the fire striker and flint.

As the ember was placed into the furnace from the bottom, the long-abandoned "furnace" burst into flames once again.

Next came the smoke, initially like silk threads of yellow smoke, gradually thickening into near black. The smoke overwhelmed the flame, forming a slanted stone pillar in the air, pulled by the howling east wind atop the mountain.

The old soldier squinted his eyes, gazing towards the southwest, where the next signal fire was located. If it were thirty years ago, a response from the next signal fire would have arrived in less than a quarter of an hour.

Yet, after waiting for a long time, there was no movement on the distant ridge. It seemed that the signal fire there, like Horn Fort's, had long been abandoned.

But in the next moment, a desolate, deep horn sound came from the city in the center of the valley, echoing between the mountains.

The abandoned signal fires were lit once more, and the dusty copper horn atop the State Palace was blown three times.

Upon hearing the horn and seeing the signal fire, every Montan paused to watch, with the young ones confused and the elders silent for a long time.

The signal fire is an order for "arming," and the horn is a prelude to "conscription"; together, they announced to all Montans the end of the era of peace.

"Let's go back," the old soldier turned his head and walked down the signal fire tower.

This period of peace, lasting a full thirty years, was the longest he could remember.

But it had ultimately come to an end.

...

[Monta Republic]

[Horn Fort]

[Army General Headquarters]

The sound of the horn echoing throughout the city also made the officers and clerks in the Army General Headquarters temporarily put down their tasks and lift their heads to listen.

However, as soon as the horn quieted down, everyone, whether officer or clerk, immediately put their heart and soul back into their original work.