Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

...

On the North Shore of Rose River.

The man with a dark face watched helplessly as his men on the South Bank were overwhelmingly defeated.

At the same time, an unknown number of infantry were bypassing to the North Shore from upstream.

The man with a dark face took out a round silver box, opened it, glanced inside, and with resignation and helplessness commanded, "We've held the legion back long enough—proceed with the original plan, retreat in groups!"

Through a unique method of communication, the message quickly reached all the eagle guards.

Inside a civilian house by the riverbank, a swordsman received the retreat order and suddenly drew his sword, stabbing the one-armed man beside him.

The one-armed man was a notorious pickpocket leader from the Old Town district of Steel Fortress; seven of his underlings were on the barricades at the South Bank.

After killing the one-armed man, the swordsman rummaged through the man's possessions to make it look like a quarrel over uneven loot. He then threw a torch into the corner of the wall and quickly left the house.

Similar scenes occurred elsewhere, disposing of their contacts before the swordsmen departed.

However, some arrived sooner than they anticipated.

Urgent and fast-paced hoofbeats echoed in the valley; the man with a dark face stopped to listen and was shocked to find that the sounds did not come from the west but from the east!

The east? There was no cavalry among the garrison outside of Steel Fortress!

But his ears did not lie; a small cavalry squad was racing towards them from St. John Street.

After briefly weighing the pros and cons, the dark-faced man decisively abandoned his horse and fled into the courtyard of a roadside residence.

But the pursuer had already seen him, and he saw them, too: the slender neck of the warhorse exhaled steam, and the curved saber gleamed with a faint blue luster.

"Halt!" the pursuer shouted from a distance.

The man with a dark face didn't look back and burst into the yard, breaking through the door and rushing toward the back.

The knight behind him, contrary to his expectations, did not chase after the easier prey but followed him without hesitation.

...

On the South Bank of Rose River.

The rioters who had blocked the garrison from entering the city were crushed, and the soldiers ahead were busily dismantling the barricades and clearing the burning houses to clear the path for the main force.

"Don't waste time!" Colonel Berny waved his hand grandly, pointing at the Rose River and ordering, "Since the rabble on the banks are gone, march directly through the river to enter the city."

"Directly marching through the river might not be safe," Colonel Thomas, always cautious, suggested, "How about we first dispatch sappers to dismantle some wooden planks from the houses and lay them on the ice?"

The Colonel glared at him, pointing at the cavalry barely visible ahead: "If those guys dare to walk on ice, what are we afraid of?"

The Lieutenant Colonel, familiar with the Colonel's temperament, knew he could not win the argument.

However, he also had his way of dealing with the situation, and while summoning the Centurions to arrange the order of actions, he included the dismantling of houses and laying of wooden planks in his orders—as a secondary directive.

No sooner had he finished giving commands to the Centurions than the messenger who had gone to contact the unknown cavalry returned, accompanied by two fully armored knights, one of whom was the very "Silver Armor White Horse" that had leaped ashore.

The silver-armored cavalryman raced to Colonel Berny, neither dismounting nor removing his helmet, and simply saluted with his hand.

"Commander," he laughed heartily and asked aloud, "How did you like my cavalry?"

Every Montan officer present was stunned.

Colonel Berny's eyebrows knitted tightly, then slowly relaxed.

The flag officer behind the Colonel could not keep quiet and was about to scold this insolent fellow, but the Colonel spoke first.

"Your cavalry?" The Colonel asked, smiling as well.

"Yes, mine."

As Berny looked at the reassembled cavalry, he saw several familiar faces. He pointed at the cavalry: "Aren't they all from Steel Fortress?"

"A saber is judged by its blade, cavalry by its commander," replied the silver-armored man with a triumphant response, "Since they follow me, they naturally become my cavalry."

"Makes sense. An officer who can inspire bravery and self-respect in his subordinates is indeed a good officer," Colonel Berny laughed heartily, scrutinized Longwind, and said, "This horse is much better than the one you rode last time. What, is this the one you're giving me?"

Colonel Thomas' ears pricked up instantly.

"Not this one, this one is my war spoils," Winters said breezily, "you can pick any of the other horses."

Longwind neighed restlessly, seemingly dissatisfied with the term "war spoils."

Xial, who had followed Winters here, also felt a jolt of surprise upon hearing this.

Xial tugged at the reins, shifting out of the Montans' line of sight and pointed behind, imitating Winters' tone, he tried to feign bravado in a nasally voice: "The other horses! Pick any!"

Amidst the conversation, a militia mounted on a fast horse galloped to Winters' side and asked loudly, "As per your orders, the squadron has been reorganized, supposed to be 147 strong, 113 have reported in, reporting complete! Please give the orders, sir!"

"Pick twenty men," Winters ordered concisely, "take them back the way they came to gather and rescue those who fell from their horses or into the ice."

"Yes, Captain Berny!" the militia saluted with a raised hand and departed with a flick of the whip.

By the time Winters turned back, he noticed the expressions of the Montan officers present had all changed.

"Uh... Your son? How come I've never heard you mention him before? Don't you only have two daughters?" Colonel Thomas stared at the silver-armored cavalryman, unable to help asking the colonel, "Nephew?"

"Hey! Here he is!" Colonel Berny waved dismissively, beaming as he called Winters over, "Son! Come here, say hello to your Uncle Thomas. Just in time, he has something for you to help him with."

Luckily, Winters was wearing a helmet, so no one could see his expression at the moment.

All notions of vigor and valiance vanished into thin air.

Colonel Berny urged once more, and Winters dismounted stiffly, walked over to the colonel and the major's horses, and saluted through gritted teeth, "I have a favor to ask of you both as well."

"No problem, no problem," Colonel Thomas was still pondering breeding horses, eager for little Berny's requests, "My matter is simple, you go first with your request."

"Many of the militiamen from North City who came to support us are trapped on the ice river," Winters spoke rapidly, "I've already sent people to search for them, but I'm afraid it might not be enough. Please dispatch some men as well, and if possible, immediately designate a settlement point to prepare for receiving the casualties."

"No problem," Colonel Thomas agreed promptly, very efficiently summoned a Centurion and an engineer officer and arranged the task on the spot.

The roadblocks had been flattened, and the path was cleared. The legions' Hundred-Men Squads, following the command, moved toward the city interior in an orderly fashion.

Colonel Berny glanced at the spire of Erwin Church aglow in the firelight, and asked Winters, "You came from the city area, what's the situation there like?"

"It's quite bad."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"Suppress the chaos, put out the fires," Winters replied succinctly, "that's all there is to it."

The sparse sound of hooves came from the opposite bank, as three cavalrymen struggled down to the river beach, then carefully crossed the ice river, galloping towards Winters' location.

"Halt!" A Montan soldier commanded, "Identify yourselves!"

The three cavalrymen ignored the call and rode straight towards Winters.

The atmosphere suddenly tensed; without waiting for orders from Colonel Berny, a line of Spearmen charged out to intercept the riders.

Recognizing the figures and warhorses of the three cavalrymen in the firelight, as they recognized his figure and Longwind, Winters immediately called out, "Don't worry, they're my men."

The Centurion looked towards Colonel Berny.

The colonel nodded in response.

Several commands later, the Spearmen who had charged out rejoined the ranks.

Soon the three cavalrymen reached the riverbank, and seeing Winters in what appeared to be a cordial interaction with a few Montan officers, the leading rider—Pierre, while surprised, did not show it.

After swiftly assessing the situation, Pierre decided to be cautious, opting for no idle talk, no formalities, and going straight to the point.

"Don't say a word later," Pierre whispered to his two companions, turning to them.

The two guards, not understanding, nodded in agreement.

Taking a deep breath, Pierre strode towards Winters and Colonel Berny, nodded with a salute, then pushed a tightly bound man off the horse's back, "Caught this live one on the other bank, sneaky and fits your description."

Winters glanced at the groaning man lying on the ground — his face a sallow shade tinged with a haggard red.