Iron Powder and Spellcasters

   Chapter 212 Migration

  The weather was warm and the wind was a little damp.

  Winters sat on the wooden box, staring blankly as the felt tent he lived in was taken down by the others.

   Remove the skin, untie the skeleton, and the warm felt tent turns into a pile of wooden sticks and bundles of leather in an instant.

   A lot of people suddenly appeared in the camp, and the herdsmen scattered for several kilometers came all at once.

   Strangers speaking unfamiliar languages ​​walked around, quickly dismantling, tying up, and carrying the entire camp on the back of cattle.

   Although it looks messy, in fact everyone knows what they should do, and everyone performs their own duties.

   They are familiar with the process, needless to say—except Winters.

  Eerlun was inventorying things, and he couldn't care about Winters for a while.

   As for the little lion, he was simply not in the camp.

  Winters sat blankly in the middle of a group of strangers, feeling like a child who was separated from the adults in the square.

   Coincidentally, there were several children with snots standing a few meters away, looking at him curiously.

   Winters turned his eyes, and the little children ran away.

   They left Winters with the women, children and the elderly with confidence, without even arranging any guards.

  Women and old men passed by him, nodding and calling him "Hestas" respectfully.

   The few wounded men in the camp looked at him with wary eyes and called him "Paratuba Bald" in awe.

  Balabald is the honorific title of a warrior, which is usually placed after the name. It has a hard meaning, perhaps it can be translated as a Platonic tough guy.

  Gossip spread like wildfire, and everyone now knew that Winters had beheaded Balabald of Teltown in the MacGora ceremony, and that he had a vengeance against the Fireboilers for it.

   But the pronunciation of "Palatubala Bald" was too convoluted, and was quickly reduced to a loud two-syllable word: "Bathu!"

   Eerlun came over with a pot of hot mare's milk, a pair of willow-leaf eyes smiled like a crescent moon: "Do you want to drink some hot milk?"

   "No." Winters shook his head: "I'll just drink water."

  Drink cow’s milk in the morning, mare’s milk at noon, goat’s milk at night, then adjust the order and do it again.

  The three things come in turn, even if the intake of dairy products for military officers and students is much higher than that of ordinary people, they cannot resist this way of eating.

   What milk-flavored paradise? This is simply dairy hell.

   "Drink a little, I don't have time to make a fire on the road." Erlen coaxed Winters: "The doctor said that your injury needs to drink more milk to heal faster."

  After a fierce ideological struggle, Winters took the copper bowl and drank it.

   "That's great! I'll bring you some more milk cakes to eat on the way." Erlun turned and left, the beadings on his belt turned away like flowers.

   "Where is this going?" Winters asked.

   Eerlun turned back again, frowned and explained, "Should we meet with the old camp first, and then go to the Hanlan River? Actually, I don't know..."

   "It's all right." Winters reassured him.

   "Don't think of me as a bad person, I won't hide it from you." Erlun was thoughtful and immediately understood Winters' emotions.

   She said a little sourly: "I saw you two years ago, and the little lion and I only returned to the tribe. Neither of us understand very well about migration."

  Winters then remembered that the Ellen brothers and sisters had lived on the slave plantations in the archipelago for at least eight years, and Ellen could even speak fluent Common Language.

   After being away for so long before returning home, in fact, it is no different from a stranger. I'm afraid she sometimes feels out of place, right?

   "Don't be sad." Winters whispered, "How could I blame you? I can only thank you."

  Eerlun was even more sad, her eyes were red and she left with a snort.

   She came back after a while, brought Winters a bowl of cream cake, and walked away crying.

  …

   Winters is not good at getting along with women, but he is not slow.

   On the contrary, he is quick-thinking, observant, and can discern many subtle emotions.

  Eerlun's thoughts are not unaware of him, but he can only pretend to be ignorant.

  Winters didn't want to stay in the wasteland for a long time, he didn't want to hurt this sincere and beautiful woman.

   His heart was filled tightly by Anna, and there was no room for a second person.

  What is Anna? Anna is a bonfire in despair.

  When he gradually became numb and cold, it was those beautiful memories that guarded his last trace of humanity: family, hometown and Anna.

   For Winters, Anna represents the best part of his life.

   In his dream, he rested on Anna's lap countless times, and Anna gently stroked his forehead to dispel blood, death, stumps, broken arms, and hideous enemies...

  Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder: "Anna is really as good as I imagined? Or am I constantly beautifying my memory? A fictional person who cannot exist in reality?"

   He felt fear and anxiety because of this: "If this is the case, will I be disappointed when I meet Anna again?"

   Leaving aside Winters' anxiety, he couldn't accept another person anyway.

   He didn't even dare to get close to Erlun, because Erlun was also beautiful.

When    woke up and saw her for the first time, Winters felt that she was as bright and warm as the sun.

  Although he didn't know what Erlun liked about him, he was flattered by this admiration.

   Winters is "Winter" and he is afraid of being melted.

   In fact, he discovered to his horror that he had developed a sense of dependence on Erlun.

  If Antonio heard Winters' thoughts, he would definitely teach a lesson helplessly: "Childish! A fool who was carried away by his first love! How can he be the head of the family in the future?"

   However, considering the family status of General Serbiati, this sentence is somewhat pale.

  …

   The only children were sitting in the frame, supported by long-haired cows.

   There is no ceremony, nor any commemorative act like smashing wine bottles or sprinkling holy water.

   Just like going out for a walk on weekdays, the camp where Winters was in set out to "migrate".

  The riders led the horses to clear the way in front, then the long-haired cattle with all their belongings, and the goats and goats huddled in the back.

  Mature men and women either ride horses or walk with bulls.

   Winters, whose left leg was fixed by a wooden mold, enjoyed special treatment and rode an ox-cart like several old grandmothers who were about to lose their teeth.

  Since Lieutenant Mason led the wrong way, Lieutenant Colonel Jesska's most frequent order was: "Lieutenant Montagne! Be the vanguard!"

  The old magic stick made fun of Winters, and he specially taught him a poem: "The lord still loves tin, and the general is the forerunner."

   It was the first time for Winters to ride an ox-cart "rear-drive".

   He was a little ashamed, and he couldn't help thinking: How are the lieutenant colonel, the old gangster and the others now?

   But the old grandmothers were very happy. They murmured slurred words and moved wobbly, trying to make him sit more comfortably.

   Winters heard only one word: Hestas.

   He still doesn't understand why the Hurds call him "Hestas", do they regard him as the successor of the old shaman?

   He suddenly recalled the ritual of anointing the blood, which answered some of his doubts and brought more doubts.

   Winters' temper is sometimes very strong, but he has no temper with the old man. Even in the face of an old and disrespectful person like the old god, Winters is bullied most of the time.

   So he shrinks his body as much as possible and does not burden the old man.

  An old man looked at Winters for a long time, suddenly grabbed Winters' hand and shouted.

   Winters couldn't understand what the other party was saying, but Erlun came over after hearing the sound.

  Eerlun's face became paler and paler as she listened to the grandmother's words.

   "What is the old man talking about?" Winters also became serious.

   "You wouldn't want to know." Erlun said with difficulty: "I'll find you another car."

   "Go ahead, it's alright." Winters felt a sense of joy at last.

   He knew very well in his heart that he had killed so many people from the Chihe tribe, and sooner or later there would be such a day.

"Grandma Tucha was also a slave of the Red Pine Manor. She has seen you and she wants to ask you." Erlun's eyes were full of tears: "The day when the Palatu people killed the prisoners outside Bianli City, who were you? Not there?"

   "I'm there," Winters answered only.

  I was there, but I didn't do it. This kind of remark made no sense to Winters, and he disdain to say it.

   "If you want revenge, come here." Winters thought to himself: "Everyone thinks that I have a blood feud with Monkey Butt Face. In fact, my feud with Chihebu is higher than the mountains and deeper than the sea."

  Erron faithfully translated Winters' answer.

  The old man named Tucha held Winters's hand, and pressed it tremblingly to her forehead, and finally put it on his chest, muttering something in his mouth.

"She said that she knew that she saw Hestas that day." Erlen listened and translated: "She knew that Hestas rescued them, otherwise everyone would be killed. She said she all know…"

   Winters withdrew his hand as if burned by a branding iron, his voice trembling: "No, I can't save anyone. You should hate me!"

   "I can't ride in this car..." He struggled to climb out of the car and fell to the ground in Erlun's exclamation.

  …

   Ellen found another car for Winters.

   It is said to be a car, but it is actually a bed-like thing. One is fixed on the ox, and the other is on the ground. There are no wheels, just dragging along.

  Winters, who was preoccupied with his thoughts, lay in the car and could not calm down for a long time.

   When he regained his composure again, he had come a long way.

   He looked around, and suddenly realized: "This turns out to be nomadic."

   "Herd, which means herd. The Heders are people who herd large animals. They live by water and grass."

  The text on the book is hollow and cold, but Winters is inadvertently placed in it.

   Compared with the knowledge learned indirectly, witnessing the "nomadic" with one's own eyes is a different feeling.

  There is only such a group of creatures on the desolate wilderness, and no one can be seen.

  The cattle and sheep are sometimes scattered and sometimes gathered, and the riders use long poles to beat the stray animals from time to time.

   The people and animals walked with their legs open, as if they knew where they were going, as if they could go on like this forever.

   After walking and resting for about six or seven hours, the migratory team stopped by a small lake.

   Livestock were brought to drink, tents were rebuilt, and lion cubs were waiting here.

   Winters suddenly discovered that nomadism is not only not an endless horizon, but also has nothing to do with freedom and wandering everywhere.

   It’s more like a series of carefully planned limited journeys, not just random luck.

   This kind of life is very different from settled farming, and migration is an important part of it.

   This life is no different from the life of the wolf town farmer that Winters has seen.

   Hard work, simple, ordinary, not spectacular or interesting, just a group of people trying to live.

   Winters has a strange feeling: perhaps the power of man is contained in the matter of "trying to live".

  While Winters was wandering outside, the little lion came over.

  The little lion knocked on the car board, and asked with a smile, "I followed it on the first day, are you still used to it?"

   Winters came back to his senses: "It's easier to ride a car than to ride a horse."

"I heard that you're not used to eating? When I first came home, too." The little lion patted his bow bag and said happily, "I'll go and get you two rabbits. When you recover from your injury, let's go to the perimeter. , that would be fun!"

   "The rabbit is not in a hurry, I have something to ask you." Winters looked serious.

   "Come back and talk about it!" The little lion laughed, jumped on the saddle and galloped away.

  …

  When the little lion came back, in addition to carrying the rabbit, he also brought another person, although he was very reluctant.

   came a very old Heard with a weathered face.

   He came with two gifts: a packet of flour, and a fine machete.

  Without the red plume feather and the blue plume feather, Winters could not tell the identity of the Hurd. But judging from the fabric and embroidery of the robe, it should be a leader of high status.

  The little lion was too lazy to be an interpreter, so the man was not annoyed, and called Eerlun for help.

   After a brief explanation, Winters knew that the other party was Tie Feng [Qi Tie Ya], the uncle of the White Lion brothers and sisters, and the leader of the Eagle Forest Department.

  Two gifts, Winters took the flour without touching the machete.

  Tie Feng said something, and Eerlun translated it:

   "Don't worry about the fire-boilers seeking vengeance. The Terdon Ministry is blood ally with us. You are safe with us."

   Winters did not speak.

The leader   Herd didn't make any detours and asked straight to the point: "[Herd] I heard that you are a two-legged Kota?"

When   Eerlun translated, Kota was a transliteration.

   But Winters knew that Kota was a military aristocrat of Heard society.

   The little lion and Tie Feng had a big quarrel and left in a huff.

   Tiefeng said another word to Winters, and Eerlun was stunned.

   Tiefeng urged Eerlun.

   "Uncle asked." Erlun whispered, "Are you willing to train new troops for us? You can give you anything you want. It can even include me."

   Winters looked at Tiefeng blankly, no need to speak, his body language was the answer.

"[Herde] understand? If you can really tie him, I won't say a word." Tie Feng said to Erlun: "[Herde] two-legged people look down on us, no matter how much effort you put into it. , he doesn't want you at all. This is the third time that the fire roaster has asked the White Lion for you. The Chihe Department is at the most dangerous time, do you want your brother to lose the most important ally?"

   After saying that, Tie Feng didn't even look at Winters again, turned and walked out of the felt tent.

   In Winters' opinion, it was Tie Feng who scolded Eerlun severely and left.

   "Why did he do this to you?" Winters asked softly.

   "It's nothing, it's nothing." Erlun sobbed in a low voice: "I have flour, I'll make bread for you."

   After a while, the little lion came back angrily. When he saw his sister crying, he understood it all.

   "Don't cry! Erlun, you have to be happy." The little lion patted his chest and said, "With my eldest brother and I, don't be afraid of anything."

  Eerlun wiped away her tears and walked out of the felt tent with flour.

   "Do you think my uncle and I are playing the trick of 'good master, bad master'?" The little lion scratched his hair and asked with a wry smile.

   "No, never felt that way." Winters answered honestly: "Because you are more tempered than I am."

"I tell you, I really hope you can stay and help my brother." The little lion said sadly: "The current situation of our Chihe Department... You may not know very well. Alas, the divisions won, our Chihe Division lost."

  The little lion was wrong. Winters was very clear. He couldn't have been more clear. At least 30% of the loss of the Chihe Department was his "credit".

  Looking at the battle of the Great Wasteland, Winters almost always confronts the Red River department head-on...and the Tortoon department of the fire roaster.

  Everyone knew that he had a grudge with the Teltown team because of the duel before the battle.

   But Winters was dressed neatly when he fought against the Red River Department, and the three-quarters of the centurions of the entire legion were almost the same.

   What's more, Winters is now living in the same camp with old and young women and children, and it is even less likely that anyone will find out that he is "he".

"I want you to stay, but only if you are willing. I will never force you to stay. As long as I am alive, you are safe." The little lion laughed and said with pride: "If you stay, you General infantry, my brother general cavalry, which of the tribes can compete with us?"

   "But..." Winters sighed, "I don't want to fight anymore."

   "Then what do you want to do?" asked the little lion strangely.

   So what do you want to do? The question struck Winters hard inside.

   A "loyal heir", a man destined to be a soldier from birth, a man who entered a military academy at the age of nine, a man who knew nothing but war, and a man with blood on his hands.

   Besides fighting, what else do you want to do? What else can I do?

   He leaned on the pillow and looked straight at Qionglu: "Lie down."

   Thank you book friends for reading, reading, recommending tickets, monthly tickets, tips and likes, thank you all.

   This chapter on nomadic migration comes from a documentary. “Nomadism is not just an endless horizon, nor is it freedom and wandering everywhere. It is more like a series of carefully planned limited journeys without a trace of luck.” is the original quote.

   White lion and blood wolf, this TM is simply a dream men's doubles [land group].

   [Sea Team] is the Six Star God General Nareshaw + E God Great Demon Speyer.

   But Winters now... just wants to lie down.

   Through Winters' experience in the wasteland, the battle of the Great Wasteland from the perspective of Heard's tribes can be shown.

   A book friend mentioned "Why does the white lion always have a way?"

   If you look at it from the perspective of the Hurds, it becomes "Why did the Paratus always have a way?"

   A book friend mentioned that the white lion's sneak attack success rate is 100%.

   Is that right? That's not right, because Winters' sneak attack success rate is 100%

   There are also book friends who mentioned that the Palauans are not as hard as Winters.

   This is also not true, many hard battles were fought by the Platoons. The people who died the most were not the Veneta, but the Palatine.

   Winters did not fight for Plato, but because he felt responsible to his subordinates. A strong sense of responsibility, which is Winters' personality, is closely related to the education of his adoptive father.

   Antonio is a man with a strong sense of responsibility, and it is he who taught Winters to "due diligence".

   So even if Winters was involved in this war and put him in that position, he would do his best, and there was no [being a traitor] in his options. The number of words is limited, we will summarize at the end of the volume.

   (end of this chapter)