Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Caman silently examined the man with the blackened face first, then grabbed his lower jaw, pushing and pulling cleanly to dislocate his jawbone—just as Winters had requested.

The bizarre manner of violence made the other Montan military officers' eyelids twitch uncontrollably.

Winters' voice came out from the helmet: "Believe me, it's necessary."

Upon hearing this, Colonel Thomas couldn't help but take a few more glances at the man with the blackened face.

Colonel Berny, on the other hand, merely nodded indifferently, instructing his deputy: "Hand the prisoner over to the Military Police Team, to be detained separately. Have Captain Miller thoroughly search the prisoner, and arrange for someone to watch over him around the clock. And, without my permission, no one is allowed to have private contact with the prisoner."

"Not interrogate him right away?" Thomas looked slightly surprised.

Berny turned his head towards the steel fortress: "Once we've dealt with the matters in the city, there will be plenty of time to interrogate him."

Winters had no objection to this but requested to speak a few more words with the man with the blackened face, and naturally, the colonel obliged.

"Do you recognize this?"

Winters crouched down, placing a bell-shaped silver box in front of the man with the blackened face.

Upon lifting the lid, the watch face inlaid with luminous stones and golden hands emitted a dim green light—it was the Nulan Clock found on the man with the blackened face by Pierre.

The man with the blackened face, bound at the limbs and thrown to the ground, cried out with a "wu wu" sound and struggled fiercely, as if he were an innocent civilian angrily protesting the brutality inflicted upon him.

Winters ignored this, taking out another bell-shaped silver box—a Nulan Clock taken from the masked man at the Este estate—and placed it in front of the man with the blackened face: "Do you recognize this?"

The man with the blackened face abruptly stopped his act, as if he had been struck by a sudden blow.

In the first few seconds, he didn't understand what was happening, so he showed a kind of numbness and sluggishness akin to drunkenness. Soon, he came to his senses, and although his facial expression did not change, his lips turned pale.

Winters savored the fear of his enemy and then, reaching into his bosom and meeting the now undisguised panic in the black-faced man's eyes, took out a third Nulan Clock.

This time, he didn't ask anything, just opened the buckle decorated with crape jasmine patterns and the Bay Branch, gently placing it in front of the man with the blackened face.

"Click."

"Click."

"Click."

The three Nulan Clocks emitted a consistent ratcheting sound from within, and the three golden hands inlaid with luminous stones uniformly pointed to the same position.

How did the clocks end up in his hands? Were the other two teams wiped out? Where's the messenger? Has the messenger been captured too?

Countless terrifying thoughts surged through the black-faced man's mind, an invisible pair of hands choking his throat, leaving him unable to breathe.

Winters bent down, close to the head of the man with the blackened face, ensuring that his voice clearly reached the latter's ears:

"I've caught you."

The man with the blackened face's body trembled uncontrollably, suddenly wanting to speak, desperately trying to say something, straining against the ropes. Gone was the composure of "will eventually be rescued," replaced only by the instinctive impulse to flee when humans, as animals, face a ferocious beast that cannot be opposed.

But Winters paid him no attention, standing up and gesturing with his hand.

Two military policemen stepped forward, putting a hood over the head of the man with the blackened face, the darkness instantly engulfing him.

Only after the man with the blackened face was carried away did Pierre step forward and ask in a low voice, "Should we also dispatch some people to guard the prisoner? Lest the Montans play tricks behind the scenes."

"No need." Winters rested his hand on his sword and contemplated: "Sending too few is useless; sending too many will inevitably draw attention."

"Yes."

Winters did not articulate his inner concerns—unable to be certain if there were still court mages lurking in the steel fortress, hence guarding the prisoner would be a task fraught with high risk. He only had Caman as a card in hand, which was too valuable to waste on lying in wait for enemies. For Caman's safety, he couldn't easily reveal him either.

Winters explained to Pierre: "The steel fortress is Montan territory; we are mere guests. Whether from a legal or power perspective, it is more appropriate for the Montan army to take over the prisoners and bear the risks."

After hearing Winters' patient explanation, Pierre grew somewhat anxious: "I didn't mean to question you."

"I don't need you to be a puppet who only understands orders. Thinking is your strength; use it boldly." Winters was not actually very good at praising others. He patted Pierre's shoulder, trying his best to offer words of encouragement: "You're doing very well, Pierre."

...

Pierre performed admirably tonight indeed.

Thanks to the bravery and wit of the messenger Koch, Pierre received the call for assistance just slightly later than Berny's forces.

As the Commander of the reserve guard "personally appointed" by Winters, since the day Winters entered the Steel Fortress, Pierre had been prepared to "storm into the fortress to rescue the Civil Guard Officer if necessary".

It hadn't been a quarter of an hour since Koch rushed into the village where the guard was staying before Pierre and the reserve guard were fully armed and dashing out of the mountain village.

However, there was only one road leading into the Steel Fortress by land.

Pierre acted quickly, but Colonel Berny's response was also swift, and his base was closer to the Steel Fortress.

As a result, Pierre, who rushed over in a hurry, was still blocked on the road by two infantry battalions of Colonel Berny.

With Berny's forces being held back on St. Paul Street, Pierre also dared not launch an attack lightly.

Pierre, who had experienced the Battle of The Styx, was not afraid to think from the worst perspective:

Night, a deep valley, troops yet to deploy, a road ahead impassable;

If he exposed himself recklessly, the Montans were more likely to turn around and eliminate the unidentified Cavalry appearing on their side and rear.

It wasn't until the hidden sentry up ahead sent back a message, confirming "Longwind" had appeared on the battlefield, that Pierre charged recklessly forward, running straight into the assassins who were about to withdraw.

Pierre led his Cavalry in sweeping through St. John Street, adding a few bodies lying spreadeagled by the roadside; a black-faced man who stood out too much was also captured alive.

...

According to the pre-arranged deployment, the garrison had entered the city from St. Paul Street and St. John Street, quickly advancing along the Rose River, quelling the turmoil in the riverside workshop district.

Another light forces unit was rushing towards strategic buildings such as the city hall, the parish guild headquarters, and the Erwin Cathedral.

Amidst the sounds of men shouting and horses neighing, Winters exchanged information with Colonel Berny rapidly.

"How many infiltrated from the North?" the Colonel asked.

Since Winters' intelligence had not been confirmed a second time, Berny's wording was very cautious.

"Unclear. Borso da Este had facilitated their false identities in the past, according to his confession, it should not be more than half a Hundred-Men Squad." Winters said solemnly: "But they have an unknown number of Spellcasters in support—suspected to be court mages."

"Court mages?" Colonel Berny seemed to be stung by the term, his cheeks tensing up: "Are you sure?"

Winters took out an iron mask from his bag: "Very likely."

Colonel Berny took the mask, rubbing the tiny scratches and fine dents on it, and repeated with a sigh: "Ah, court mages."

"How did you survive then?" Berny looked at Winters: "I've seen court mages rain death upon the siege trenches, the storm turned into a bloodbath. Could it be that the Pretender Emperor's pet devils have gone blunt?"

Winters answered proudly: "I am a Spellcaster too."

The Colonel shook his head slightly: "The Spellcasters trained by General Antoine-Laurent compared to the court mages is like a three-year-old child in diapers to an adult in full armor and readiness."

Winters did not argue, only saying: "The mask isn't fake."

"A mask doesn't prove anything." Colonel Berny pondered for a moment: "However, the person sitting on the throne is no longer Madman Richard. The Oath Breaker and the mad emperor's way of using Royal devils... might be different."

"Court mages act covertly and insidiously." Winters reminded as a friend: "They're likely to take advantage of chaos to assassinate important figures to exacerbate the turmoil—for instance, you would be an excellent target. So please stay within my line of sight tonight."

"Kid, you haven't even grown out your beard yet. Do you think I need your protection?" The Colonel snorted lightly, his attention now on another matter: "How many live captives did you catch tonight?"

Winters pointed with his lips: "Just that one."

"Wasting warriors on an inglorious battlefield does seem to be the style of the Oath Breaker." Berny commented disdainfully: "If so, the Pretender Emperor must really not want us to have any captives."

"That's the other thing I wanted to remind you of." Winters slightly bowed: "Please be sure to strengthen the guard at the location where the prisoners are held."

Colonel Berny stroked his jaw beard: "We Montans have a saying, if you're clutching another man's eggs, it's him who should be worried, not you. Anti-magic tactics, how much do you still remember?"