Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Xial nodded obediently.

Winters glanced at the Nulan Clock on the table, got up, and walked towards the coat rack. Xial quickly stepped forward to help Winters put on his riding gear.

"Just take the carriage," Xial said with a hint of displeasure. "Why must you ride a horse?"

Winters let out a light snort. "Taking the carriage? How proper would that be? Have the warhorses sent to Colonel Berny and Major Thomas been delivered?"

"Delivered. I handed the reins to them myself."

Winters coughed a few times. "Has Longwind been brought back?"

"Brought back." Xial, still a child after all, shifted moods quickly. Though he had been sulking moments ago, the mention of Longwind immediately energized him. "If we hadn't taken the initiative to demand it back, that so-called major would've surely kept it. Hmph, mountaineer."

"Enough." Winters' tone was unusually stern. "Don't speak like that."

Xial immediately fell silent, though his lips stuck out in defiance.

...

The situation today was unusual. Colonel Berny and Major Thomas did not send anyone to the scene, yet any keen observer could see the intricate ties between this convoy and the stationed troops.

After all, Winters' "transport convoy" bore a permit signed by Colonel Berny, officially stated as heading to the border trade city of Lucerne to purchase grain.

After the great fire, Solingen State lacked everything—especially food. Thousands of pounds of bread were consumed daily by the destitute victims. Even the rations distributed by the stationed troops could only temporarily suffice, destined to run out sooner or later. The looming food crisis created palpable fear; neither farmers nor merchants dared to put their grain up for sale.

Solingen had already requested aid from neighboring states, but relying solely on internal resources would likely drive up the price of flour throughout the adjacent free states to unsustainable levels.

The enlightened minds within the Monta Republic had already turned their attention beyond the mountains.

However, if external purchases were sought, flour from Varn and North Monta would be too distant to solve the immediate crisis. On the other hand, Paratu, geographically closest to Solingen State, was an ideal option—aside from its abundant sheep's wool and cured meats, it was also a key producer of wheat and rye.

Interests between The Federated Provinces and Monta were beginning to diverge in subtle ways. Using this as leverage, Major Thomas helped Winters navigate the internal channels of the Monta Army, ensuring that checkpoints along the way would look the other way this time.

In return, Winters promised that Paratu's "Third Republic" would provide Lucerne with enough grain to satisfy Steel Fortress' three-month supply—although he hadn't obtained any actual authorization from the Paratu military government.

Naturally, Winters immediately dispatched a messenger to General Alpade afterward. But the scales of negotiation had shifted, now balancing "military supplies" against "grain and transit rights."

By a twist of fate, Winters Montagne had taken on the first brokerage deal of his life—a trade riddled with deception from both sides. If the imprisoned White Eagle knew of this, he'd likely applaud through tears.

...

Shedding the attire of an Imperial nobleman and donning the outfit of a Paratu rider, Winters suddenly chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?" Xial asked, mystified.

"Don't you feel a strange sense of familiarity when looking at these Paratu-style boots?" Reflective and somewhat sentimental, Winters struggled to pull them on. "We didn't wear boots like these back in Vineta."

Compared to Vineta-style boots, Paratu boots were taller in the shaft and made from stiffer leather, making them harder to wear—but they required no laces to secure. Paratu's winter boots were even lined with fur for extra warmth.

"I only learned to ride after coming to Paratu," Xial murmured. "I never wore boots back in Vineta."

Winters sat quietly for a moment before helping Xial adjust his belt. "Do you want to go home, Xial?"

"I do." Xial tugged at his hair in frustration. "And I don't."

Winters ruffled Xial's hair.

Footsteps sounded from outside the tent, followed by the flap being lifted. "Civil Guard Officer, Congressman Selvit is here."

"Finally." Supporting Xial to his feet, Winters said, "Invite him in."

John Servette was still dressed in his black attire—or more likely, identical sets of black clothes—with buttons fastened all the way to the collar. Only the dust on his knees and the hem of his coat from riding betrayed his recent travel.

Noticing that the "Baron" was already dressed in full travel gear, Selvit's calm eyes flickered with a hint of surprise. "You're leaving today?"

"If you'd arrived any later, you might have missed me entirely." Winters replied, smiling warmly. "Are you here to notify us of the blacksmith guild's voting results?"

"Correct." Selvit answered solemnly, clearing his throat.

"Hold on a moment." Winters stopped him mid-sentence.

Selvit frowned slightly, questioning with a glance.

Winters turned to Xial. "Go and fetch Lady Navarre."