Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Winters was always a man of action, and he immediately wanted to set out for Wolf Town to meet up with Caman and the kiln-building brothers.

But after a bit of thought, he decided to depart the next day instead.

The straight-line distance from Revodan to Wolf Town was nearly three hundred miles—a real journey. Winters had many affairs related to Wolf Town on his hands, and if he could handle them all in one trip, it would save him the trouble of making another.

"Xial." Having returned to his quarters, Winters began to arrange the trip, "Go find Andre and have him prepare the horses to be sent to Bard. We'll take them along tomorrow."

Xial nodded, affirming the instruction, and quickly left.

From Mont Blanc County, Andre had acquired over a thousand mares and foals, and together with the existing three hundred or so horses from Iron Peak County, the garrison suddenly found itself with a side group of almost fifteen hundred horses.

Andre and Mason were overseeing the construction of stables and the cutting of hay, preparing for the herd's winter.

Mason was temporarily unaware that he had been "elected" as the head of the horse farm—Winters was still seeking a good opportunity to discuss the matter with his senior.

According to Bard's suggestion, the horses of Iron Peak County would no longer be raised collectively.

Only the best warhorses were kept; the second-rate warhorses and riding horses were distributed among the military outposts and farms. Even mares without foals were selected and readied to be sent out.

In such trying conditions, any horse had to be put to work.

Andre was less than pleased, but since Winters had approved, he had no objections.

Mason, on the other hand, was relieved. If the fifteen hundred horses were all kept in Revodan for the winter, surely a large number would die of starvation or freeze—a maintenance they simply could not afford.

Distributing them, although risky, would greatly reduce the demand for hay and stables.

"The iron goods meant for Lieutenant Bard will also be taken along this time." Winters called over his taciturn standard-bearer, "Go tally them and load the wagons, Heinrich."

Heinrich nodded, silently awaiting the next command.

"Go to the prison," Winters said, with what appeared to be a smile, "and take that rascal Bunting along tomorrow."

Heinrich nodded again.

"That's all, you may go."

With a salute, Heinrich left without uttering a word.

Xial was lively and quick-witted; Heinrich was composed. Winters truly liked and trusted these two "children" from the bottom of his heart. From the beginning, both had served as his gendarmes, later doubling as his guards, orderlies, messengers...

Winters wanted to send the two boys out to take on greater responsibilities. But he was reluctant; Xial and Heinrich took care of the major and minor matters of his life, significantly improving his work efficiency and life quality.

But what kind of man could be content being a guard for life?—this was Winters' plain thinking.

He decided to respect the wishes of the two children, to ask their opinions before deciding what was next for them.

At this thought, Winters couldn't help but sigh deeply. He absently fiddled with the small knife, regretful that there were so few competent people at his side.

What are "competent people"?

They are the ones who, when given the order by the military council to "build stables," depart to fulfill the command and return with the stables completed, all without the need for much oversight.

Apart from Winters himself, only a few such as Bard and Mason possessed the ability to plan, execute, and make decisions independently.

Even Andre had been pulled out to serve as the Chief Paymaster—there was simply a shortage of personnel.

Even Winters' personal accounts and the garrison's ledgers were currently managed by Anna.

The human resources at the new garrison were not at all comparable to those at the old one. Major Ronald had over twenty officers under him, while Winters had only six in total, and among them, one mystery handsome man always shirked responsibility, while another mystery handsome man was too lazy to care.

Revodan was not lacking in financial experts; old Priskin was clearly also capable of managing the accounts with precision, but Winters did not trust the old tobacco merchant.

Those with ability could not be trusted; those Winters trusted did not have such ability.

In the end, "Lady Montaigne" had to take charge.

"The matter of the accounting school also needs urgent attention." Winters unconsciously etched line after line on the table with the knife, "We have to train and shape trustworthy people into capable ones."

The establishment of the "Crash Course in Accounting" was Anna's suggestion, which Winters had happily noted, but now it seemed more urgent than he had imagined.

"So, who should be put in charge of the accounting school?" Winters' headache began anew.

Thinking it over only led to one conclusion: he had to do it himself.

"Location, funding, student body, teachers..." Winters listed on paper the things needed to start a school.

All at once, he took a deep breath and smacked the desk, "Anyway, it's all these things, so why not expand the military training classes as well?"

Previously, Winters' "Military Classroom" mainly operated as an evening course.

As night fell and the other soldiers prepared to sleep after dinner, the soldiers and Centurions selected by Winters would gather to attend his class.

It was truly a bitter experience; Winters was driven to fury every day. Those who came to the class were utterly ignorant, having to be taught the most basic words on the spot.

An even bigger problem was their lack of seriousness; they didn't take it to heart at all. Some even stole many of the chess pieces that Winters used to demonstrate tactics.

After experiencing just one evening class, Winters completely abandoned the gentle approach to teaching and embraced the banner of stick education without looking back.

Can't memorize the alphabet?

Whack!

Can't distinguish north, south, east, west?

Whack!

Can't recognize map symbols?