Iron Powder and Spellcaster

Captain Moreau's visit breathed a little fresh air into the stuffy office, but Bud still spent most of the day in a sea of ​​articles.

It is no exaggeration to say that Bud saved the Tiefeng County Army's logistics system, which was about to fall into chaos.

As the Tiefeng County Army gradually formed formal cavalry, artillery, and engineering units on the basis of infantry, the old "six-person decision-making meeting directly manages everything" system became increasingly inadequate.

Mason had to continue to expand the size of the "General Command" and add administrative staff to maintain the daily operations of this army that was also in charge of civil affairs.

As a result, the Tiefeng County Army's headquarters became more and more like a messy study room, where all items were placed according to the principle of "the user can pick them up most easily."

When the user [Richard Mason] is personally in charge, the messy study in the eyes of outsiders feels familiar to him, and the headquarters can naturally operate efficiently and smoothly.

But once they are separated from Mason's supervision - as they are now - Winters and Mason lead their own troops to garrison Maplestone City and Artemis, the bottles and jars in the study will not escape the fate of being broken.

As far as management is concerned, Winters is a decisive leader - any request placed on his desk will be quickly approved - but the prerequisite is that there must be a real person in front of Winters. A desk.

That is, Winters only works when he wants to. And Winters has always hated paper work.

Coupled with the inertia of the bureaucracy's natural aversion to asking questions, the civil servants who were brought to Wargne County chose to send all the documents that needed to be reviewed to Maplestone City, and then waited for Mason Tribune to send back the documents with approval.

The administrative efficiency of the General Command plummeted to intolerable levels.

Fortunately, Bud's timely arrival changed everything. Now even if Winters doesn't want to work, Bud forces him to sit behind a desk.

Bills, accounts, and requests no longer had to be sent to Maplestone and waited for the approval from Tribune Mason. Bard's endless discussions with Winters exhausted Tribune Montagne.

Unlike Winters, Bud is a diligent administrator. And sometimes, "decision" needs the spur of "diligence".

…

After seeing off Captain Moreau, Bud returned to the office without stopping.

He took away the parchment covering the desk and continued to draft a plan for "stripping the military council of civilian power."

There was a short knock on the door, and after receiving permission, Angelou walked into the room carrying a woven basket full of papers.

The two of them had been cooperating for a long time, so there was no need to say anything else. Angelou divided the documents into categories and placed them on Bud's desk. Bud also tacitly agreed to start reading from the pile closest to the right.

But Angelou took out three pieces of paper from his pocket: "You need to read this first."

Bud rubbed his sore eyes and motioned for the stable boy to sit down: "Whose letter is it? What is it about? Just tell me directly."

"These two letters are from old Mr. Pliskin and Mr. Shaosha respectively." Angelou put the three letters on the table in turn: "This letter is sent in the name of the General Guild of Gévaudan."

Bud frowned slightly when he heard this.

Angelou stated concisely and concisely: "The contents of the three letters are roughly the same. They all ask if they can redeem our 'golden tickets' in Artemis and Maple Stone City."

Bud reached for the letter and read it line by line.

…

The industries under Tiefeng Junjun's name, whether they are mines, factories or refugee farms, currently can only provide physical resources and cannot create profits.

Due to the war, the tax base of the newly reclaimed provinces has shrunk significantly compared to the past. The Tiefeng County Army had to take the initiative to reduce taxes to give the people some breathing space.

So as of now, the main source of income for the Tiefeng County Army is still "capturing trophies" and "selling off trophies."

Among them, the largest income comes from the "contribution" of the Teltown Department.

This led to the fact that although the Tiefeng County Army had a huge sum of money on its books, it was held in the form of gold instead of silver for daily use.

It should be noted that in the markets of newly cultivated lands, not only gold, but even large silver coins of sufficient value are not used much. Most of the transactions between farmers were barter. Even if they wanted to buy big things, they would pay with the small silver coins and dimes they had accumulated.

Although each of the one-kilogram gold bars in the Tiefeng County Army's warehouse is valuable, they cannot be used at all.

In order to turn the gold bars into "money" that could be spent, the Tiefeng County Army conducted large-scale gold and silver exchanges with the merchants, manor owners and various guilds of Gevaudan - exchanging gold bars for the silver coins they held.

After arriving in Warne County, the Tiefeng County Army conducted a round of forced gold and silver exchange with Artemis merchants.

However, compared to the frightened Artemis merchant who took away the gold bars as soon as the transaction was completed, the people of Tiefeng County showed a high degree of trust in "Montagne Your Excellency".

Obviously the transaction has been completed, and the next step is to exchange the tickets for gold bars, but many Tiefeng County merchants have been slow to take the gold from the Tiefeng County Army's warehouse.

Now, Bud finally understands why they do this.

…

"It will take advantage!" Bud put the letter firmly on the table and asked with interest: "Are you treating us as a treasury that doesn't charge storage fees and a bank that doesn't draw remittances?"

"Not only that." Angelou handed over several cashed bills: "This has happened more than once - the 'golden tickets' were obviously issued to a certain business bank, but it was another business bank that came to redeem them. Some people also asked if the large amount of 'golden tickets' could be divided into smaller amounts of 'golden tickets' like cutting meat."

Bud listened attentively, encouraging the ponyboy to speak his mind with his eyes.

Angelou scratched his chin and concluded hesitantly: "I think... they seem to be using the golden ticket as a head ticket."

Bud checked the signature on the cashed golden ticket and held his forehead in thought. Angelou sat aside, fidgeting with his clothes slightly uneasily.

"It's very interesting." After a moment, Bud smiled and nodded slightly: "If this is the case, maybe we can take advantage of it."

Angelou finally followed suit and grinned reassuringly.

Bud put the letter and gold tickets that Angelou brought into a paper bag, carefully cut out a piece of paper, wrote a few lines concisely, sprinkled with fine sand, waited patiently for the ink to be absorbed, and then The piece of paper was also put into the bag: "This matter needs to be discussed with Ms. Navarre, and a separate group of messengers will be sent to send this letter back to Gevaudan."

He handed the paper bag to Angelou: "The sooner the better."

"Yes." Angelo smiled and raised his hand in salute, then turned and left.

The door was closed by Angelou, and Bud was the only one left in the office again.

He stared at the bill he was drafting on splitting the military and civil affairs, and inadvertently glanced at the place on the table where the gold tickets and letterhead had just been placed. Then he picked up the paper knife, shook his head and cut out the written part. Come down and put it in the drawer.

When he had done everything, there was a knock on the office door again.

After getting permission, Angelou poked his head in and said, "Tribune, another family member of a prisoner of war is asking for an audience - this time it is Mr. Anwar Fayekah from the Yenigan Trading Company who is the guarantee."

After hearing this, Bud took out a roster from another drawer. What is engraved on the hard-cover cover of the roster is not the flying lion of the Tiefeng County Army, but the logo of the New Reclamation Army, with the abbreviation of the Wargne County garrison underneath the logo.

"What's your last name?" Bud opened the roster.

"My surname is Matya." Angelou smiled and replied: "Matyya Pal."

…

Climbing up the narrow stairs and squeezing through the corridor filled with desks, old Madiya and her youngest son came to the office that originally belonged to Major Sandel.

No clerk passing by looked at them. Everyone was busy with the task at hand, turning a blind eye to the two incompatible people.

Whether hidden behind this indifference was contempt or pity, old Majiya didn't know, maybe it was both.

"Please come in."

A "rebel" officer who was about the same age as Raul opened the door for them, and the office of the "Bad Tribune" appeared in front of old Majia.

Compared with the cumbersome process of checking the identity of visitors, the furnishings of the "tribune" office are surprisingly simple.

The office was filled with the unique smell of fresh pine wood. Except for the beautiful mahogany desk, all the decorations when Major Sandel was in office were removed and replaced by filing cabinets covering all four walls.

The improvised filing cabinets were not even painted, and the nail heads were exposed on the surface, which was not aesthetically pleasing at all. But it is practical and sturdy, and there is a rough sense of power hidden in the ordinary.

Old Ma Jiya's heart clenched unconsciously.

The "tribune" invited Madya and his son to sit down, and before the atmosphere became serious, he took the initiative to ask: "You came here in the hope that I can release Mattya Pal?"

In a conversation, the person who speaks first is often the more passive one. Old Ma Jiya thought that the other party would give him a thumbs up, but the attitude of the "tribune" was extremely approachable.

However, after hearing the other party's straight-to-the-point question, the last hope in Lao Majiya's heart was shattered. Holding his knees, he answered humbly: "Your Excellency, I wish to redeem Matthias Pal."

Sure enough, the other party neatly rejected old Ma Jiya's request: "I can't agree to you."

Old Ma Jiya nodded respectfully.

"The gentlemen of Artemis all say that we are holding the commissioned officers of Wargne County as hostages. Since you have come to see me in person, I should also explain to you..." The tribune said in a surprising way: "Yes, they are hostages. Only if you hold them hostage will you come; hold them hostage so others will not run away."

Old Ma Jiya was distracted for a moment, and his submissive disguise fell off. He subconsciously frowned and looked at the tribune in confusion.

Raul, who was sitting next to old Matiya, could no longer contain his anger. He clenched his fists and asked sarcastically: "The officers and soldiers also take civilians as hostages?"

The tribune looked at little Ma Jiya with interest: "Not a rebel?"

Raul was speechless.

"Mr. Majia, little Mr. Majia, of course we know what you think of us." The tribune stood up and walked to the filing cabinet on the right, picking out a heavy book from the middle grid: "You Think of us as floods, storms, droughts, you think of us as some kind of natural disaster that you can't fight, but it will eventually pass. When everything returns to normal, you can go back to living the way you used to."

Raul was speechless, and so was old Matia.

"That's why." The tribune gently put the book on the table, carefully opened the seal, turned over the pages, and asked again and again: "Mr. Matiya, how many hectares of land do you have?"

"We..." Old Ma Jiya considered the words: "We just live a relatively prosperous life."

The tribune found the answer in the book: "Mr. Matiya, there are 422 hectares of land registered in your name, two-thirds of which are cultivated land, and the remaining one-third is mountainous land - including The forest above. You are the richest manor owner in Oak Town."

"It's nothing." Old Madiya replied humbly: "In front of your authority."

"Compared with the vast new cultivated land, a mere four hundred hectares is certainly nothing; compared with the land that has been cultivated, your manor is nothing." The tribune pressed the book heavily: "But you , your neighbors, your friends - adding up the land owned by all of you, you already occupy more than 70% of the cultivated land in Wargne County."

The tribune returned the book to the file rack, as if asking a casual question: "Don't you find it interesting? Mr. Matiya, Tiefeng County is much poorer than Wargne County. The yeoman farmers and tenant farmers of Wargne County occupy But the wealth is less than that of Tiefeng County."

Old Ma Jiya asked with difficulty: "I don't understand what you are talking about, Your Excellency."

"Don't think about what I'm talking about. Let's talk about you." The tribune returned to his seat and opened another roster: "Why do you want to donate an official position to your son? Mr. Matiya."

"Of course it's to become an official." Raul yelled in his heart. Having her scars exposed in front of her face, Matya Raul was angry and embarrassed, and old Matya was speechless.

The tribune didn't seem to want to waste time. He gave the answer directly, and the answer was more profound than what Majiya and his son had thought: "Because you are all political pariahs."

Raul raised his head suddenly and shouted "Who do you think is a pariah?" he almost blurted out. But his wrist was grabbed by his father, stopping his outburst.

Old Ma Jiya looked at her son and shook her head gently.

"Don't get me wrong, everyone is a pariah in front of the New Reclamation Army, the only powerful force in the New Reclamation Province." The tribune bloodyly cut open the New Reclamation Province and showed it to old Majiya:

"The provincial government is the servant of the legion; the autonomous towns are the purse of the legion; the Grand Council, which nominally represents all the free people of the province, is used by the legion as a rubber stamp and will only be convened when it needs to be stamped."

Old Ma Jiya listened silently.

"As for you, gentlemen." The tribune's tone was very calm, so it sounded more sarcastic: "On the one hand, the legion is wooing you, conspiring with you to extract the wealth of the newly cultivated land, and using your strength to rule the new land. to reclaim land; on the other hand, they suppress you and do not share any political power with you."

The tribune knocked on the roster on the table and glanced at little Ma Jiya: "The Legion itself is a highly closed and self-sufficient political entity. It only accepts members with the same identity and will never easily absorb outsiders."

Although Raoul was dissatisfied, he had to admit that what the other party said made sense.

The tribune continued: "You have land, fame, and knowledge. For the majority of yeomen and tenant farmers, you are the natural leaders. If it is in the United Provinces, you will definitely have a seat in the National Assembly; if it is in the maintenance Neta, the Directory also has to listen patiently to your opinions.”

The tribune stood up and pointed to his nose: "But in the newly cultivated land, the legion will accept me, the son of a church serf, and will not accept your son, even if you are the owner of a large manor of four hundred acres. .”

The tribune looked down at Ma Jiya and little Ma Jiya and asked: "So, if you are not political pariahs, what are you?"

"You..." Old Ma Jiya raised his head with difficulty: "Forgive my stupidity, what do you want to tell us by telling us this?"

"I'm giving you a price." The tribune sat back and said, "You should know what we did in Tiefeng County."

Raul didn't know why.

Old Ma Jiya's Adam's apple twitched, obviously knowing the answer: "I have heard it a little bit."

The tribune clasped his fingers and said in a sincere tone: "Please listen carefully. Personally, I prefer to retain large farms. Because only large farms can produce as much food as possible and provide food. Homeowners will always give priority to satisfaction. The payback period for what we need is too long, and we can’t afford to wait.”

Old Ma Jiya nodded slightly.

"But." The tribune's eyes were as calm as water: "We do not necessarily need to retain the manor owner class. Instead of retaining you as the manor owner, we would rather be the manor owner ourselves."

There was a deathly silence in the office.

"Don't get me wrong, this is not a personal grudge, and you have done nothing wrong." The tribune picked up the inverted cup and poured a glass of water for each of the two people in front of him: "The war is about to begin. The enemy's wealth, population and land are much more than us. If we cannot mobilize our strength to the maximum extent, then we will be doomed to the ending you expected."

His voice was soft but clear, as if he was reciting a poem: "This is a life-or-death war. There is no middle party. Everyone must choose a side. So we will not tolerate non-cooperators, let alone those who secretly Destroyers. We will use any means to survive because that is the only way we can survive."

Even the unsophisticated Raul felt invisible pressure on his shoulders and back.

"Mr. Matiya, I hope you can make the right choice, and I hope you can set an example." The tribune sincerely invited: "In exchange, you will get political equality... and the right to property." Protect."

What the other party said was too vague, and Raul was confused.

Old Ma Jiya pursed her lips and stared into the other person's eyes, but did not reply for a long time.

It wasn't until this moment that Mattia Milok truly realized how wrong his old friend's vision was.

Pious? Kind? Easy to talk to?

Fayeka's eyes were simply blind. This "son of a church serf" named Bader was clearly the most determined and least likely to be shaken among the rebels he had ever seen.

"There is no need to rush to answer. You will know when you need to make a choice." The tribune glanced at the sky outside the window: "It's getting late."

Old Ma Jiya was stunned for a moment, then wisely stood up and saluted: "Then we will leave now, Your Excellency."

"Don't worry. I have already sent someone to ask for Mr. Mattia Pal." The tribune stopped the two of them with a smile: "Although I can't let you take him away, I can at least let you meet him."

…

[late at night]

[Oak Town]

[Majia Manor]

The horse's hooves trampled the midnight tranquility, and Madam Matiya, who was restless and unable to sleep, immediately wrapped herself in a shawl and ran out of the mansion.

At a glance, there were only three people sitting on the backs of the five horses. Madam Majia's hands and feet suddenly became cold. She staggered to her husband's horse and reached out to touch the saddle bag - the gold was still inside.

"My..." Mrs. Machia's voice trembled uncontrollably: "My..."

Old Ma Jiya got off the horse and hugged his old wife: "Don't worry, your son is still alive. He is very good and has become much stronger."

Madam Matiya suddenly turned from sadness to joy, wiping her tears, she couldn't wait to ask: "Then what..."

Old Matia shook her head, signaled Tasso and her youngest son to lead the horses back to the stables, and then helped his wife towards the mansion.

Mrs. Mattia sensed that her husband was preoccupied and seemed not to want to talk more about his experience in Artemis.

Now that her husband had said that Parr was still alive, she forced herself not to ask any more questions. She prepared food and hot water for her husband, son and Tasso, and kept everyone settled before returning to the bedroom on the second floor.

When Mrs. Matiya opened the door with a lantern, her husband had already fallen on the bed.

"Go to sleep." Old Ma Jiya whispered: "There are still things tomorrow."

Mrs. Matia agreed in a low voice, blew out the lantern, walked quietly back to the bed, and lay down next to her husband.

After an unknown amount of time, Madam Matiya’s timid question sounded in the darkness:

"Have you... met the Blood Wolf... Mr. Blood Wolf?"

After a brief silence, Old Majiya sighed: "Among those who rebelled, there was not only the Blood Wolf. Today, Raul and I met a person who was even more outstanding than the Blood Wolf."

Mrs. Majia said "Oh" in a vague way, and after a while, she couldn't help but ask: "Then...then you didn't see the blood wolf?"

"Blood wolf? I saw it." Old Ma Jiya stared at the dark roof, thinking of the heroic man who suddenly appeared in the office.

He said in a fit of laughter and tears: "The Blood Wolf... is indeed extraordinary, he... he is like a hawker walking down the street, dragging me and Raul along to sell his... new plow truck for a long time."

Mrs. Machia was speechless. She recalled what her husband had brought back and asked in surprise: "You... you didn't buy it?"

"Of course I didn't buy it. There is no shortage of plow trucks at home." Old Ma Jiya said matter-of-factly. He coughed slightly: "But I still bought something."

"What did you buy?"

"Bought two packs of nails."

…

On the night when Madiya and his wife were in bed having a night talk, two messengers rushed into Artemis one after another, awakening countless people from their sweet dreams, and delivered messages that made Mason groan in pain, made Bard silent, but made Wen The two pieces of news didn't come as any surprise to Tes.

The first message comes from Jinghu County, which has been missing for a long time:

The reason why the Grand Council Army was able to march at a speed that exceeded everyone's estimates and intercept the coalition forces in the valley village was found - Bazenauer did not fall;

After Saner received the intelligence of the coalition's dispatch, he preferred to abandon Bazenauer, which was about to fall, leaving only a small force to monitor the defenders, and immediately set off to turn back;

However, these are all old scores - Colonel Gesar Adonis had captured Bazenauer the day before yesterday, and everyone from Colonel Gaspar down to Colonel Gaspar was captured.

The second message comes from the Castle of Kings:

The Provisional Supreme Council of the Republic of the United Eighteen Provinces passed a resolution to officially intervene in the Palato Civil War;

The vanguard has crossed the rushing river.

[Bud: Winters is a blood wolf, then I am——Jin! Just! Wolf! ]

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