Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

As soon as Xial spoke, Winters instantly entered into a casting state.

But Caman was even faster than Winters; he leaped like lightning to Xial's Warhorse's side and dragged the white-haired man off the horse.

The white-haired man heavily fell to the ground, letting out a miserable cry. Caman clutched the white-haired man's throat and pinned him firmly to the ground.

Winters thought Caman was going to kill the man without hesitation. However, after a few seconds, Caman released his hold, stood up, and walked back to where he originally stood. The white-haired man struggled desperately, twitching on the ground, clearly still alive.

As Caman passed by Winters, he coldly stated: "He is not the one."

Winters nodded: "Unbind him."

The ropes on the white-haired man's hands and feet were cut one by one, and the black cloth covering his eyes was also removed.

The flickering firelight pierced his pupils; having been trapped in darkness for too long, the white-haired man instinctively closed his eyes, glimpsing vibrant soldiers in armor, majestic warhorses, and brightly-lit doorways and windows flashes by.

Someone grasped the white-haired man's shoulder and pulled him up, but he couldn't stand by himself and collapsed weakly again.

Not far away, a raspy voice was speaking: "...four carriages, just parked by the roadside, I heard the noise of someone knocking... no markings on the carriages, nor crests, only firearms, and this guy... it was him banging his head against the carriage door that led me here..."

"Bring a few more men over, and bring back all the carriages."

"Yes."

Feeling adjusted to the light, the white-haired man covered his forehead, carefully peering through his fingers around him. When he looked up, he met a pair of dark eyes reflecting the firelight.

The white-haired man peeked around, and Winters was also observing the white-haired man.

Ordinary people, even grown men, show panic when kidnapped. However, this thin, tall, white-haired young man seemed to quickly adapt to the situation, pretending to be weak and listless, but his eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings, exuding a restless air.

Winters liked smart people, but he detested cunning ones, and smartness and cunning often differ by just a pound of conscience.

The white-haired man was still figuring out what lies to spin when he suddenly heard a soft chuckle.

"Heh." Winters gently patted Longwind, patiently soothing the somewhat impatient Warhorse. He looked at the white-haired man and said, "I've seen this man."

Xial was greatly surprised: "Seen him?"

"He's a waiter at the inn. He showed up once the day I arrived at Steel Fortress." Winters narrowed his eyes: "Bring the inn manager to me."

...

The inn manager was dragged into the courtyard without a chance to swear, and just as he was about to curse, his eyes fell on his nephew sitting paralyzed in front of the horse, and he turned around to see human corpses spread around the open ground.

The usually smooth-talking manager found himself at a loss for words, his face turning alternately pale and ashen, his lips trembling uncontrollably.

After standing dumbfounded for a while, the manager strode forward in two steps and grabbed his nephew by the collar, delivering two loud slaps to his face.

The white-haired man—named Roger—pressed his blood-stained lips together, remaining silent, his cheeks swelling up.

After the two slaps, the manager stood for a while, then, still feeling unsatisfied, swung his arm around and slapped his nephew one more time, but he could not bring himself to deliver a fourth slap no matter what.

At last, the manager released his nephew, straightened his disheveled hair and clothes, and walked up to Winters' horse, bowing respectfully: "Are you heading out, sir?"

"You don't ask why I had you brought here." Winters stopped pretending to be a noble of the Empire, and with a laugh, he asked the manager in Common Language: "Instead you ask if I want to go out, interesting."

"Knowing everything isn't a skill," the manager replied unmoved: "Being able to help you, sir, is the real skill."

Winters looked past the manager, asking the white-haired man directly: "Green eyes, golden hair, do you remember him?"

Two gazes focused on the white-haired man, one from Winters, the other from the inn manager.

White-haired Roger reluctantly nodded.

"What's his name?"

"I don't know."

"Go over each one, and then tell me, do you recognize anyone among the corpses?"

Xial and another guard supported white-haired Roger, making him identify each corpse one by one.

White-haired Roger, merely a low-level information broker at Steel Fortress, had never seen such a scene of corpses strewn about; when brought back, his face was terrifyingly pale, his knees trembling uncontrollably.

"Did you recognize anyone?"

"No." White-haired Roger swallowed, feeling his limbs go cold and a chilling dread filling his chest: "I don't know them, I only met the green-eyed man for the first time. I only know a dark-faced man, I sold information to him, and it was also him who kidnapped me."

"Met by chance?" Winters raised an eyebrow.

As if grasping at a lifeline, Roger nodded vigorously: "Lady Balboa had me deliver a message to Lord Xukna, I met the dark-faced man and the green-eyed man together when I left Lord Xukna's house. The dark face hit me without explanation, and the next thing I saw was here! Sir, I really don't know anything!"

Winters found that this white-haired fellow indeed had some quick wit; although he was terrified by the sight of the corpses, his speech became even more fluent and well-organized.

"Where did you encounter the green eyes?" Winters flexed his wrist.

"North city, Mana Street."

Winters lightly spurred Longwind, steering it towards the courtyard exit, pointing at white-haired Roger: "Bring him along."

"Sir! Please..." The inn manager paled, hurriedly blocking Winters' path, reaching out to grab Longwind's reins.