Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"I've done everything I can to repair them, sir." The white-haired old man took off his hat, swallowed hard, and swore with conviction, "They won't cause any trouble."

Inside the white-haired old man's carriage, there wasn't any cargo loaded—only two equally uneasy brown-haired young men and all sorts of tools, practically making it a mobile workshop.

…

Winters' "caravan" did not include any certified steel guild blacksmiths—on this matter, he neither exploited loopholes nor played word games. Instead, there were several craftsmen from other trades, men like the white-haired old man Neufer and his two apprentices, who had lost everything in the great fire and fallen into debt.

Faced with a contract that offered enough advance payment to clear his debts and buy a workshop, the old man Neufer signed the "five years of service" agreement without hesitation. Other craftsmen did the same; anyone willing to go to the Newly Reclaimed Land was welcomed by Winters.

Of course, what he wanted most were blacksmiths. But it wasn't for lack of trying—he had attempted to recruit certified blacksmiths multiple times, yet never once obtained a positive answer.

Perhaps everyone has their price, but the Solingen Steel Guild had, over the course of centuries, elevated the value of blacksmiths to a level no outside buyer could afford.

Bloodlines, family ties, status, guarantors, apprenticeships, sense of honor, bounty systems, internal relief funds… Too many factors constrained the steel guild blacksmiths, turning the act of purchasing their services into an overwhelmingly uneconomical business venture.

After realizing this, Winters reexamined his plans and shifted his focus toward groups outside the guild system—those laborers who worked under employed blacksmiths.

Laborers who had worked in blacksmith workshops for years and possessed skilled craftsmanship became his recruitment targets.

Though, the number of applicants remained pitifully few.

…

The camp was divided into inner and outer rings. Supply wagons were placed in the inner ring, cargo wagons in the outer ring, with guards stationed in between.

Waiting in the outer ring, Ernest Fuller spotted the Baron from afar and immediately tried to approach him. However, the guards refused to grant him passage, forcing Fuller to shout in desperation, "Sir! Sir! Hey! I know this gentleman! Let me through!"

Xial waved his hand, and only then did the guards allow Fuller to pass.

Fuller jogged over to the Baron, barely catching his breath. Just as he was about to utter some well-rehearsed farewell words, memories of his tumultuous experiences over these past days suddenly rushed back, leaving him overwhelmed with emotion. Tears welled up in his eyes. "I… You…"

Winters gazed at Fuller, feeling similarly sentimental, and so he extended his hand with a smile.

Without a second thought, Fuller grasped it firmly with both hands.

As he prepared himself to speak again, he was interrupted by the Baron's gentle voice: "Mr. Fuller, do you remember the conversation we had at the Lake Hotel?"

Fuller nodded vigorously.

"During that conversation, you told me how your father and grandfather had painstakingly accumulated wealth to establish two forges, and how you lost them. You lamented your decisions, blamed yourself, and regretted borrowing money to run a business."

Fuller's cheeks began to flush.

"You may have forgotten what you said that day, but I remember every word clearly. Because I thought you were correct. Accumulating wealth and expanding slowly across generations is far too slow! It takes decades, perhaps even a lifetime, to build a family enterprise—how could that ever be fast enough? Your 'debt-financed operations' were a stroke of genius! It allowed anyone starting from scratch to leapfrog over the long, arduous path at the beginning. What an audacious and brilliant tactic! But…" For the first time, Winters revealed his true thoughts about Solingen people, "But I believe it's not suited for a place like Solingen."

Blurred by his tears, Fuller hadn't initially caught what the Baron had said. By the time the words sank into his head, the young Baron had already walked away.

After completing his final inspection of the camp, Winters took the reins of Longwind from Xial, nodded, and stepped into the stirrup to mount his horse.

Xial held Longwind's halter, took a deep breath, and bellowed with a voice that pierced through the air, "Silence! The Civil Guard Officer has something to say!"

The camp fell silent in an instant. People scattered across different parts of the campsite quickly converged at the central clearing.

Men and women raised in the mountains stood silently. As they looked upon the young officer astride a white horse, Winters studied the Montans standing before him.

Grouped by family units, the men, women, and children numbering no less than a thousand stood sparsely in the clearing.

However, among them, fewer than five hundred were truly joining the caravan leaving Solingen State. The rest were women and children here to see them off.

Out of the fewer than five hundred caravan members, half were only traveling as far as the border city of Lucerne—they were primarily wagoneers. The remaining half were the actual laborers heading to the Newly Reclaimed Land.

Among the laborers heading to the Newly Reclaimed Land, the vast majority were adult men who had accepted settlement payments. Only a very small number of Montans planned to relocate with their entire families.

Two hundred or so laborers, a handful of professional craftsmen—the combined group made up less than half a battalion. This was all Winters had managed to recruit. It was far fewer than anticipated, yet the result was not unexpected.

Because for many Montans who lived within the mountains, the Newly Reclaimed Land wasn't a tangible location—it was simply a concept that existed in stories and legends.

This perception magnified the distance between the Newly Reclaimed Land and Monta, rendering Iron Peak County into a place that felt unreachable.

Thus, the Montans who were recruited were mostly men with wives or younger brothers from large families. They didn't see themselves as migrants but rather embraced a self-sacrificial resolve akin to soldiers enlisting during the Imperial Era, taking the blood payment—the settlement funds—from Winters as their reward.