Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Upon receiving this answer, Colonel Skool relaxed a little.

"As expected, not so kind-hearted," Skur Meklen thought to himself, "Hmph, as expected, there are other calculations."

Mason simply tore a sheet from the back of the dossier, stood up, and placed it in the center of the conference table, explaining to the officers while calculating on the paper:

"Thunder Group County and Riverside County have provided a large number of cavalry troops. If you simply count the heads, it would be unfair to Thunder Group County and Riverside County. So I have assigned different values for infantry, cavalry, and artillery units. Infantry is valued at 'one,' cavalry at 'three.' Principally, it's based on troop allocation, but Thunder Group County and Riverside County can receive more than their share of troops, to make it more equitable."

As Mason explained, the far end of the long table became increasingly quiet. Eventually, there was no sound at all.

Mason also sensed the shift in atmosphere and hurriedly added: "If there are objections to this valuation, we can continue discussing. In fact, I have here a formula where, by using different values, we can achieve the distribution ratio under this valuation..."

"No need to say more," Colonel Skool spoke with difficulty, "This is good."

Colonel Gaisa heavily knocked the table with his pipe and sternly questioned: "Kid, according to your distribution method, it appears fair on the surface. But have you considered, this campaign, you've taken all the easy battles, left us with the hard and brutal ones. Simply allocating based on initial troop strength, is it truly fair? We've lost and injured so many people, how should the compensation for the dead and wounded be calculated?"

Colonel Gaisa's questioning not only didn't stump Mason but seemed to poke at Mason's itch, inexplicably exciting him.

"I've considered this too, please turn to page forty-seven," Mason responded fluently, "I believe all compensations for the dead and injured in this campaign should be disbursed uniformly from the storages of Maplestone City and received legion supplies, and the remaining portions then distributed as loot according to the initial troop allocation ratio."

Such words were tantamount to firing a thirty-two-pound cannonball directly into the militia formation.

Because the three officers at the far end of the long table no longer remained silent, but started whispering.

Winters was quite satisfied with this outcome and quietly gave Senior Mason a thumbs-up.

Mason grinned, but the next second, the opponent's response left him in shock.

"Very sorry, Captain Mason," the bad news still came from Lieutenant Colonel Magash, "We cannot agree to this compensation plan."

"Why?" Mason stammered a bit, "Is there... something inappropriate about it?"

"We agree to your proposal for allocating supplies according to initial troop numbers," Lieutenant Colonel Magash politely said, "As for the compensation expenses, we will bear them ourselves."

Mason anxiously explained: "But this way, it's unfair to you."

Lieutenant Colonel Magash resolutely shook his head. Colonel Gaisa and Colonel Skool also leaned back, clearly unwilling to continue discussing this topic.

On the side, Winters suddenly burst into laughter.

The sound of laughter made the clerks in the adjacent meeting room listen intently, further causing everyone at the conference table to pause their actions.

"Don't waste your kindness, Senior," Winters said with a look devoid of surprise, pulling Senior Mason back to his seat with a grin, "The three officers will never agree."

"I don't understand, why not?"

Winters scrutinized the three officers on the other side of the long table: "Because they are afraid of us."

Rarely, Colonel Gaisa did not refute.

"The compensation list is the casualty list, an exhaustive tally down to every individual," Winters said, word by word, "You disbursing the compensation does it not mean letting you have a clear understanding of each county's defense forces' resources?"

"That's right," Colonel Skool removed his monocle and admitted straightforwardly, "Correct."

"So, Colonel Gaisa is also correct," Winters' expression was harsh yet disdainful, "We are just a bunch of bandits, each harboring ulterior motives, potentially stabbing each other in the back. Sitting here to divide the spoils!"

Senior Mason slumped back into his chair.

"But dear seniors, do you truly believe," Winters picked up the plan before Senior Mason and heavily threw it on the table, questioning: "That relying on this plan to divide the spoils can solve our problems?"

The dossier landed heavily on the tabletop, causing even the guards outside the door to involuntarily tremble.

Winters pressed down on the long table, overlooking the three officers before him, and coldly interrogated: "Do you truly believe that as long as this loot distribution plan is fair enough, we won't go to war again?"

The air was so heavy it made breathing laborious, one could hear a pin drop in the room, midsummer temperatures suddenly plummeting to chill the spine.

"You completely don't care whether the distribution plan is fair," Winters bared his fangs incisively, "In fact, even if I were to crush the marrow out of your bones, you'd grit your teeth and accept an unfair plan. Because all you want is to quickly get money, get supplies, go back to your territory, recruit soldiers! Consolidate troops! Fight again!"

Facing Winters' aggressive questioning, the three officers remained silent.

"May I ask what your next plan is?" Winters' gaze swept across the three officers, finally landing on Colonel Gaisa.

He asked and answered himself, "I guess, it's to launch an attack. The elite field troops of Kingsfort have been wiped out, the remaining old, weak, and infirm barely forming half a legion. Westwood Province cannot defend itself right now, continuing to sit idly by in the Newly Reclaimed Land is simply a waste of opportunity! How could you not launch an attack?"

Colonel Gaisa groaned sullenly: "Precisely."

"Then," Winters stared unwaveringly at Colonel Gaisa, pointing to himself, "What about me?"

Winters asked the three officers three times consecutively.

"What do you plan to do with me?"

"With me behind you, do you dare act?"

"If you can attack out of Newly Reclaimed Land, where am I supposed to attack?"

No one could provide an answer.

"If this problem cannot be solved," Winters took a deep breath, retracted his aggressiveness, sat back down, and detachedly stated the cruel fact: "No matter how satisfactory the agreement we achieve today, ultimately it will lead us to the endpoint of mutual slaughter. By then, either you kill us or we kill you. All noble purposes will be buried by blood. Colonel Bod Gates, who rests in the Maple Stone City Cathedral, will cry for us."

Silence, once again long silence.

Gaisa's facial scar twitched, he clenched his teeth and asked the young man before him: "Then what do you propose?"

"A nominally united army is not sufficient to maintain its own existence, much less to consolidate the resources of the Newly Reclaimed Lands Province," Winters answered earnestly, "We need a larger framework — we need to rebuild the New Reclamation Legion."

Gaisa Adonis, Skur Meklen, Magash Colvin, and everyone hearing these words were stunned.

Lieutenant Colonel Magash murmured: "Rebuild the New Reclamation Legion?"

Colonel Skool rationally opposed: "The defense forces in each county have already reached nearly half a legion's strength, integrating them will far exceed a legion's capacity. The structure of the New Reclamation Legion cannot accommodate so many troops, ultimately leading to the same nominal existence."

Colonel Gaisa, on the other hand, sneered: "Isn't the New Reclamation Legion already an invalid name, acting outside the remit? The New Reclamation Legion? Whose New Reclamation Legion is it again?"

Captain Richard Mason instinctively calculated frantically: "To rebuild the New Reclamation Legion, we need..."

"This won't work! That won't work! What do you want then?" Winters slammed the table, yelling thunderously, "This won't work! That won't work! Then there's only one way left!"

Mason involuntarily twitched, fearing Winters would say "I'll slaughter you all right now!"

The conference room's door was kicked open, Major Seber, hearing Winters' shout from afar in the auditorium, rushed in with a lamp post: "Damn! Started fighting after all!"

"The way to stop us from killing each other, to halt us from heading towards self-annihilation, to prevent the Newly Reclaimed Land from being drenched in blood, is only one."

Winters surveyed the three officers, his comrades, and subordinates, and every person flooding into the conference room, decisively stating the ultimate resolution:

"Re-establish the Republic of Palatu!"