Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 328: Chapter 19 Two Guards

The words of the old mendicant monk deeply impacted Winters, who countered, “Isn’t the Highlands Republic currently akin to sitting atop a volcano?”

“Pretty much, at least that’s the case for the Newly Reclaimed Land,” Brother Reed conceded, “Paratu does not restrain amalgamation, and a minority control most of the land. The rich have fields stretching far and wide, like the Mitchell Family; the poor have no place to call their own, not even able to become tenant farmers, only long-term laborers. The landlords’ greed knows no bounds, suppressing the poor to seize even more land for cultivation. If this were in the Far East, chaos would have erupted long ago. In my view, the only reason a peasant revolt has not occurred here is simply due to the ‘vastness of the land and sparsity of the population’.”

“Old man, you’re not trying to scaremonger, are you?” Winters couldn’t help but defend the Mitchell Family, “You speak of how insatiable landlords can be, yet I think the Mitchells are good people.”

The old monk said serenely, “Gerard is indeed a generous man, but his personal virtues have no bearing on the desires of the entire landlord community. Just as there are good and bad soldiers, but when they are on the battlefield, regardless of their nature, they must fight the enemy. If you look at each individual landlord family, most conduct themselves respectably. But is their consolidation of land untrue?”

When it came to sharp words and endless discourse, how could a green lieutenant compare to a seasoned clergyman?

Yet Winters remained somewhat unconvinced, “But if these things have existed up to this day, doesn’t that mean there’s nothing wrong with them?”

“Kid, it’s not ‘existed’ but ‘maintained’ up to this day! Politics are not fixed in stone; they are like building blocks, never unchanging,” Brother Reed said with increasing mirth. “No one knows what the future holds. Everything has an end; there’s no immortal monarch, no undying nation. Honestly, I’m very curious to see where this system ultimately leads.”

Winters sighed. The old mystic before him had become whimsical once again, a behaviour to which he had grown accustomed. But the true reason for his late-night visit to the mendicant wasn’t this; he had been inadvertently sidetracked by the old man’s ramblings.

“Enough already,” Winters complained, “I came to ask for your views on establishing a Standing Peacekeeping Force in Wolf Town, but instead of addressing the issue, you went on and on about irrelevant matters.”

“I’m offering you advice because I think highly of you,” Brother Reed said, feigning anger, “Don’t be ungrateful, boy. An old man’s time is very precious.”

Winters’s original idea was simply not to disband the militia but to keep up with weekly training sessions. However, Mayor Mitchell’s suggestion took a much bigger step forward, causing Lieutenant Montaigne to hesitate.

If he were in Sea Blue, Winters could discuss any doubts with Antonio, seeking advice from an elder was not a source of embarrassment for him.

In Wolfton, he had no one to rely on; Bard and Andre were tens of kilometers away. Yet he was eager to hear others’ thoughts on the matter, preferably objective and neutral ones.

After much thought, he could only seek Brother Reed’s opinion. After all, the old monk, ninety-five years old (or so he claimed), had accrued wisdom — a fact even Winters had to admit — and moreover, Reed was a disinterested third party.

“Alright, enough, drink up and let’s talk business. Is it really feasible to organize a Standing Peacekeeping Force in a small place like Wolfton?” Winters glanced at the nearly empty bottle on the table. It was customary to bring a gift when seeking advice, so Winters had brought a bottle of wine with him, not expecting the mendicant monk to become so talkative upon drinking.

“Done!” Brother Reed spread out his hands, “It seems all I said before was for nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I have to spell everything out for you?” Brother Reed said helplessly, “Of course it’s feasible. In a small place like Wolfton, with Gerard’s support and yours, it will certainly succeed.”

“I think Wolf Town is too small to afford a salaried soldier,” Winters expressed his concern, “to force the establishment of a peacekeeping force, isn’t that just adding a burden to the civilians?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. Let Gerard handle the money, and you manage the people,” Brother Reed said dismissively, “Military texts say fifteen working-age men can support one soldier. With you and Gerard working together, forming a small squad of constables should be a piece of cake. If full-time soldiers can’t be sustained, then go for part-time farmers and part-time fighters.”

“Won’t there be objections?”

“Who dares to object?” The old monk’s eyebrows shot up, “What is the peacekeeping force for?”

Winters suddenly remembered the Standing Army of Vineta, which seemed more preoccupied with internal matters than external. His enthusiasm waned, “Alright, then we’ll proceed according to Mayor Mitchell’s wishes.”

“No! It must be according to your wishes,” Brother Reed said, stroking his beard at a leisurely pace, “The key to the peacekeeping force lies in the selection of its members. You cannot entrust this to anyone else; you must pick them yourself.”

“Why?”

“Consider what would happen if you let Gerard recommend and pick personnel,” the old monk chuckled, prompting Winters to think.

After contemplating for a moment, Winters ventured a guess, “All Dusans?”

“Exactly, if Gerard does the choosing, then the peacekeeping force will definitely be all Dusans,” Reed scoffed, “The Dusans are brave and fierce, excellent horsemen, and how could any farmer compete with them even in a fair selection? But you aren’t just the Garrison Officer for Dusa Village; you are for the entire Wolf Town. The structure of the peacekeeping force must be balanced, or the other villages won’t accept it.”@@novelbin@@

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