Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 957: Chapter 36: The Hunt (7)

Before dawn, everyone had already begun preparing.

Near the hunting ring, there were no longer herds of grazing horses; all the horses were busily chewing their supplemented feed. The hunters carefully inspected their bows and arrows, sharpening the arrowheads repeatedly.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the green hills, groups of hunters from various tribes streamed out of their camps, spontaneously gathering toward the hunting grounds.

The sound of hooves thundered, dust clouds overshadowed the sun, hunting dogs barked furiously, and warhorses neighed loudly.

“Lady Navarre, please refrain from taking any dangerous actions,” Colonel Moritz politely expressed his concern. “You weren’t frightened, were you?”

“Rest assured,” Anna replied with a smile. She wasn’t scared, just a bit disappointed.

Listening to the rolling thunder of hooves, Anna felt as though she could see a spectacular scene of ten thousand horses galloping like a giant wave.

However, as part of that giant wave, even standing on horseback, Anna could only see a dozen horse butts ahead of her and ended up with a mouthful of dust.

Regrettably, the only nearby place that offered an overview of everything was the green hill, but not everyone could go up there.

At this moment, members of the County Delegation had already changed into herder attire, and without speaking, they were almost indistinguishable from the Herders.

Since the Iron Peak County Delegation was acquainted with the Evil Soil Tribe, Little Lion arranged for hunters from the Evil Soil Tribe to accompany the Iron Peak County group for the hunt.

Everyone followed the Evil Soil Tribe’s riders and finally stopped outside the felt wall of the hunting circle, waiting for the command.

Over a hundred tribes and nearly thirty thousand hunters were quickly scattered across the hunting circle that spanned [two Mu of land].

[Note: Two Mu of land is approximately ten kilometers]

The hunting circle delineated by the Red River Tribe was so vast that even if all the hunters stood next to the felt wall, they would have to take at least two steps to reach the next person on average; thus, none of the Iron Peak County group felt cramped.

The sun had fully risen, and the clusters of royal tents above the green hill became clearly visible, as did the groups of prey.

Members of the delegation who registered for the hunt were both nervous and eager.

Except for Father Caman, the blacksmith Berlion, and a few who preferred quiet, the rest signed up, not wanting to miss this rare grand event.

Old Sergei voluntarily took on the sergeant’s responsibilities. While helping others check their gear, he repeatedly instructed, “Listen up, pups! This is barbarian territory! Absolutely no conflicts with the barbarians! And do not reveal your identity…”

“When does it start?” Vashka, parched and repetitive, muttered, “When will it be our turn?”

Koshach, leading a horse by, heard Vashka’s words and replied in a muted voice, “It starts soon. Your turn, our turn, much later. Dismount first, rest.”

“Ah?” Vashka widened his eyes.

Koshach furrowed his brow, took out an arrow, and drew a series of circles from large to small on the ground.

Pointing to the largest circle first, he said, “Khan.” Then he pointed to the middle and smaller circles in turn: “Leaders, you and me.”

Koshach stared into Vashka’s eyes and said solemnly, “One by one, no chaos. Small ones before big ones will lead to bloodshed.”

“What does that mean?” Vashka was somewhat confused.

“He means that hunting has to take turns, and those with higher status go first. It will probably be late before it’s our turn,” Pierre stepped up to the group and loudly ordered, “Everyone! Dismount and rest!”

Vashka obediently dismounted, and the others also followed Pierre’s command.

Although theoretically, Colonel Moritz held the highest rank on site, during this return period, Pierre had regained his position as the deputy of Blood Wolf—by taking on a lot of work and subtly instilling this.

Moritz did not care about how Mr. Mitchell established his authority. He was rather happy to be free of issuing orders if someone else was willing to do it.

He slowly dismounted and looked around—there wasn’t even a stone to rest his legs.

Moritz wasn’t picky; he sat down next to the felt wall and casually pulled out a small flask from his pocket.

Just as he was uncorking it, Lady Navarre’s gentle voice came from in front of him: “Don’t you want to participate in the hunt?”

Anna, leading a horse, curiously looked at the colonel.

Moritz took a sip from his horse milk liquor, not lifting his eyelids as he replied, “Because Winters asked me to protect you.”

“Protection can rotate, but a grand hunting expedition comes only once. Aren’t you really going to join?”

“I don’t like hunting.”

“Why?” Anna persisted.

Moritz caught the question lightly: “Why do you want to know?”

“Because Mr. Montaigne also doesn’t like hunting, but he refuses to say why,” Anna earnestly requested. “He respects you greatly, so I want to know your answer.”

Moritz sighed: “I only know my own thoughts.”

“Please, tell me.”

“Well, Lady Navarre, first tell me what hunting is.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Assume that hunting is physical labor,” Moritz spread his hands, “then my reason for not liking hunting is simple—I am too lazy to move.”

Anna sensitively realized that the colonel hadn’t finished speaking: “Is there another assumption?”

Moritz smiled slightly, sitting up a bit: “Yes. Another assumption is that hunting is a recreational activity; then my answer is even simpler.”

Anna waited quietly for the answer.

Moritz spoke softly: “Killing wild animals does not bring me any pleasure.”

Anna was momentarily at a loss for words, and Moritz didn’t say anything more.

Anna pondered for a moment, then suddenly revealed a smile: “I may not fully understand what you mean, but I’ve realized one thing—you are a very gentle person.”