Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"Of course, you know me best." Winters laughed heartily. "Actually, it's just some scorched and burned-out swords, no longer usable, but the iron is still good. I plan to take them back to Iron Peak County and forge them into farming tools."

"That depends on the situation." Major Alec's tone was cautious, though Winters' attitude relaxed him a little. He pondered for a moment. "I'll report it truthfully to the tax officer, but the specific taxation will be determined by the reporting officer."

Winters nodded with slight disappointment, and then pursued Major Alec with questions about news inside and outside the Alliance. The two chatted for a while before Major Alec prepared to head back to the South Bank.

"By the way." Before leaving, Major Alec seemed to recall something. He took out two gold bars from his carrier and placed them on the table. "You asked me to smooth things over for you. Here, this is what's left."

Winters did not say something like "I gift them to you" but solemnly pocketed the two gold bars, stood up, and saluted Major Alec.

Major Alec snorted lightly and walked away, satisfied.

...

The next day.

A secret handover formally commenced under the watchful eyes of the Lucerne garrison. Boats loaded with grain and weaponry moved continuously along the Border River.

At first glance, it seemed as if the border port, silenced by the embargo, had been restored to its former bustling glory.

"Mr. Fuller." Standing on the dock, Winters leaned on his cane with his left hand and rested his right hand on a rotund man's shoulder. Half amused, half exasperated, he asked, "The money you earned from me should be enough to pay off your debts, shouldn't it? Or was it after I spoke to you that you got into speculative business again and lost two forges?"

The dust-covered Ernest Fuller grinned broadly. "Actually, I sold them."

"Weren't those the forges of your father, your grandfather?"

"Which made them fetch a great price!"

Winters still couldn't figure out Fuller. "You fought tooth and nail to keep your father's and grandfather's forges just to sell them?"

"Actually, I still want to dabble in speculative business." Fuller said a bit sheepishly.

"Speculate on what?" Winters withdrew his hand from Fuller's shoulder.

"Speculate on you."

"Oh?"

"That day, after hearing what you said, I went home and couldn't sleep the whole night." Fuller's eyes shone brightly. "The more I thought about it, the more I realized you were right. Steelburg is no longer a place where hard work alone can lead to wealth. No matter how much I hustle, it's nothing more than a splash, and I might even get swallowed by the big fish. So… I'm dreaming of a 'new world' to strike it rich. Maybe I can build a great business empire too!"

Fuller discreetly patted his round belly. "Aside from what I left for my mother and my sister's dowry, all the money from selling the forges is hidden here—well, I spent a little along the way."

Winters roared with laughter, again resting his hand on Fuller's shoulder. "But what about your guild vows? Steelburg would never let a Forge Master leak the 'secrets between the furnace and the anvil,' would they?"

"Rest assured! There won't be any trouble!" Fuller pounded his chest proudly and declared, "Because I don't know anything!"

Winters laughed even harder.

As the next grain transport docked, Major Alec disembarked from the boat.

The major went straight to Winters, greeted him briefly, and got straight to the point. "Your request has been approved by General Alpad. Once all military supplies are handed over, these boats will take you to Mirror Lake. But let me make this clear ahead of time—the fleet won't risk entering the Big Horn River mouth."

"No problem." Winters agreed readily.

"I also brought this for you." The major retrieved a slim booklet from his carrier.

"A gazette?" Winters' eyes lit up. He eagerly took it and began flipping through. "They say they issue this every three months, but ever since I arrived in Paratu, I haven't seen one."

"Now it's irregularly issued." Major Alec spoke with some melancholy. "Everything is a mess right now; no one has the time or energy to compile gazettes anymore."

Winters also sighed and closed the gazette. "Speaking of which, shouldn't the date for the Federated Provinces General Assembly be approaching? Will General Alpad attend?"

"In the current situation, how could General Alpad possibly go personally?" Major Alec sneered. "It's the same on the pretender government's side. The Viper Grof Magnus is coiled in his den, merely sending a few representatives."

Winters found a box to sit on and, while rubbing his sore left leg, began reading the gazette. He said somberly, "This might be our last chance at the General Assembly. The issues in Paratu… should be left to Paratu to resolve. The Federated Provinces and Vineta need to open their eyes and look beyond the mountains."

Major Alec supported himself on his knees and sat down next to Winters, gazing at the calmly flowing river without speaking.

On the dock, idle workers who hadn't seen action for ages were now frantically busy loading war supplies onto boats destined for the Kingdom of Galloping Horses.

While one Vineta officer and one Paratu officer silently observed all this, worried about the fate of the Alliance...

They couldn't see that to the east of their position, all the way to the shores of the sea, another United Provinces officer was delivering a fiery speech to his troops.

"…My parents are farmers. They were devout and honest people. But what did they receive? Tax collectors exploited them, townsfolk scorned them, landlords squeezed them, and the corrupt government allowed all of it to happen!"

A resolute, broad-shouldered young officer strode among ranks of fully armed soldiers, addressing them passionately:

"You all come from farming families too, so you must know the plight of farmers better than I do! In the Sovereignty War, farmers shed the most blood and lost the most lives. But what did farmers receive? Nothing! The bloated city elites took everything! We drove out the Emperor and installed a new government, but farmers still have to pay the same taxes! Serve the same old roles!"

These words didn't need repeating, as the soldiers had already heard them in their barracks, chapels, and training grounds. They felt it even more deeply than the officer.

The young officer stepped out of the ranks, mounted his warhorse, and drew his sword. "This thirty-year-long persecution must end today! Forward! Our target: Guidao City's State Building!"

With that, the young officer spurred his horse ahead, leading his Hundred-Men Squad as they marched out of their station.