Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

“Master,” the old servant switched topics, bowing his head, “Captain Bod wishes to see you.”

Immersed in his memories, Alpad returned to reality, giving the old servant a cold glance.

The old servant hurriedly explained, “I’ve already told Captain Bod that you are not receiving guests. But he insisted on seeing you, and he brought something—something of yours.”

With that, the old servant took an object out of his bosom and presented it with utmost respect.

It was a square liquor flask, a very exquisite one. Unfortunately, it was no longer usable because a lead bullet was embedded in it.

…

An old servant with gray hair sat by the door of the reception room, his eyes staring at the ground, wooden-like.

Besides the old servant, there was only Winters in the spacious reception room, along with a row of armchairs along the wall.

Winters observed the murals on the wall with interest. The murals had no theme, only some decorative patterns. Moreover, the painting was poor, probably done by an amateur.

Instinctively, Winters was more interested in the fortress-like mansion than the murals.

On the way from the second door to the reception room, he noticed a patio in the center of the house.

Houses in Paratu seldom have patios due to the need for warmth in winter. The only logical explanation Winters could think of was for collecting rainwater.

Why would a residential house need to collect rainwater? To prepare for a siege?

Considering the location of this mansion, Winters guessed that the ancestral home of the Alpard Family likely fell between a castle and a residential building in terms of architecture and was not constructed too long ago.

Though there were many sentries and guards, the defensive capability, in Winters’ view, was still not very strong.

Gaoling Fortress was not the capital of Rum County, nor the administrative center of Jiangbei Province; it was just a small town under Rum County’s jurisdiction.

Alpad returned to Gaoling Fortress with very few followers, but the military government would not allow such a leader to return to his hometown alone.

The guards and military officials who followed Alpad nearly packed this small town full.

Fortunately, Winters’ entry into Gaoling Fortress went smoothly, and he was not subjected to any scrutiny.

He didn’t need a disguise, as he was an officially commissioned officer, his uniform, his “Federated Provinces accent,” every part of him served as his best proof of identity.

He only brought one Dusack guard—Vashka, who was also genuinely a Dusack.

Winters also forged a pass for himself, copying the signature from a commendation order issued by Alpad, and finally carving a seal in half an hour.

To Winters, the biggest risk of traveling in territories controlled by the military government was being recognized by an old schoolmate.

The so-called “college faction” officers were actually a small group; two graduates meeting could dismantle any lies with just a casual conversation.

Thus, Winters deliberately avoided towns that might have garrisons, hurrying to Gaoling Fortress through night and day.

The door to the reception room opened, and another old servant with graying hair slowly approached Winters and whispered, “Please follow me.”

At the end of a dim corridor, the old servant opened a door for Winters; Alpad Duyome sat behind a desk.

Compared to the vivid, energetic, and valiant cavalry general in Winters’ memory, who seemed to possess endless vigor, the current Alpad Duyome more easily revealed the fact that he was already stepping into his twilight years.

As Winters observed Alpad, Alpad also sized up Winters.

“Have you married into a family?” Alpad frowned, asking out of the blue. His voice was not as loud as before, but still robust.

The old servant tactfully left the study, closing the door behind him.

Winters had imagined many conversations, but none of them started with “Have you married into a family?”

The relationship between Alpad and Winters was far from intimate or familiar; the former was a high-ranking major general, while the latter was just a minor Centurion.

Therefore, Alpad’s question baffled Winters, leaving him uncertain how to respond.

Alpad motioned for Winters to sit down: “Bod Gates has a daughter.”

Winters didn’t stand on ceremony—no longer being a subordinate of Alpad—he calmly sat down in front of Alpad, “I just borrowed Colonel Bod’s surname for a while.”

Alpad didn’t continue on this subject, but instead asked, “Do you have news of Bod Gates?”

“Yes, he’s still alive,” Winters pondered his words, “Currently… Colonel Bod should be in Maplestone City.”

Alpad slightly knitted his brows, then as if coming to a realization, sighed and relaxed his expression.

Winters remembered, Colonel Bod’s original position was Chief Battalion Leader of the Sixth Legion. In other words, Colonel Bod was Alpad’s deputy. Their relationship, probably, was closer than Winters had initially thought.

Alpad did not pursue further about Colonel Bod’s current situation and glanced at Winters, “The officer from the Newly Reclaimed Land sent me a letter of reprimand, Adams said you became a bandit.”

Alpad scoffed, “He also held me responsible, asking me to deal with you.”

Winters thought he would be angry, but he actually felt no emotion, “Oh? How did you reply to him?”

“How did I reply to him? I told him—I am glad to hear that Winters Montagne is still alive,” Alpad said with disdain. “Adams is a foolish fence-sitter; you need not fear him.”