Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 363: Chapter 31 Horse Palm Ivan

“`

The battle at the ford had ended, and two Dusacks dragged a man with an oval scar on his face, not yet dead, to the side of the lieutenant.

“I will only ask once,” Winters, who was sitting on a large rock and wiping his saber, said without lifting his head, “where is your hideout?”

The four captured bandits knelt before the lieutenant shivering, while the bow-and-crossbow-wielding people of Wolf Town stood angrily around the prisoners.

With a superior number, the people of Wolf Town could easily deal with the bandit gang of thirty or forty men once they were effectively organized.

With a single charge led by Winters and his cavalry, the bandits, who had just been acting fiercely, scattered like birds and beasts.

When Gerard arrived with the rear guard, the battle completely turned into a rout of the fleeing enemy.

The four surviving bandits were lucky because they were personally captured by the lieutenant who wanted to keep a few alive for interrogation.

The rest of the bandits were not so fortunate; the people of Wolf Town loathed them, and those captured were killed without hesitation.

For the severely injured bandits, they didn’t even get a quick end but were left to go to hell amid fear and pain.

Without the need for Winters to torture them, the several bandits had already seen how formidable this young officer was and spilled everything they knew like beans from a split bag.@@novelbin@@

…

This was a premeditated ambush.

Every year, the estates of Wolf Town would travel to and from Revodan in groups. While safe, it also made them a very obvious target.

The bandits and robbers had long been covetous, but deterred by the reputation of the caravan and the Dusacks of Wolfton, no one had dared to act.

Until this year, this time.

According to the prisoners’ confessions, they had been waiting at the ford for half a month by then, at which time the caravan from Wolf Town had not yet departed.

However, the people from Wolf Town headed to Revodan just as it began to rain upstream, causing a surge in the Panto River’s water level, and the caravan detoured through Shizhen, accidentally avoiding an ambush.

But luck always runs out, and on their return, they fell right into the bandits’ trap.

Strictly speaking, this wasn’t “a group” of bandits, as small bands of thieves did not have the ability to overpower the Wolf Town caravan.

It took a merger of several bands of bandits to form this large gang of more than forty people, some robbers even purposely came over from the neighboring county to join.

…

In the middle of a hidden clearing in the dense forest, a small black iron pot was bubbling away on top of a fire.

A bearded man was stirring something in the pot with a long-handled ladle, while another skinny man was slowly peeling carrots.

Around the fire, there were about a dozen crude tents, looking like a temporary camp.

“Tommy! You done pissing yet?” the bearded man called out impatiently.

A young dirty-blond kid with dirty clothes ran back from outside the camp, hitching up his trousers, “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

The skinny man chuckled and said, “Lazy folks always have more waste.”

The blond kid suddenly stopped halfway and looked back, puzzled.

“What are you standing there for? Get the hell over here and help!” the bearded man shouted discontentedly.

“I hear horse hooves over there!” the blond kid shouted back, pointing behind him.

“Hooves?” The bearded man dropped his ladle and stood up abruptly: “That must be the boss returning!”

When the blond kid turned back again, all he saw was a dark blur, then a sharp pain struck his forehead and he lost consciousness.

The bearded man and the skinny man tried to run, but the sound of hooves surrounded them from all sides.

A fiery red warhorse streaked past the two, and in the blink of an eye, the old rider knocked the bearded man unconscious with a club.

The skinny man was so frightened he wet himself, knelt on the ground, and began to beg for mercy.

Another rider threw a lasso, yanking the skinny man to the ground and dragging him away.

“Stop wasting time, search!” Seeing everyone in the camp was under control, Winters, who was commanding at the rear, signaled the Dusacks not to entangle with the prisoners.

Sergei and the other Dusacks began taking down the tents in the camp, one by one.

“There’s someone here!” a Dusack shouted.

Sergei immediately dismounted and grabbed the person in the tent by the collar, demanding fiercely, “Speak! Who are you? Speak or I’ll kill you!”

“Don’t kill me,” the man, shackled by iron fetters, begged repeatedly: “The bandits tied me up and brought me here.”

Cries from the Dusacks could be heard in the distance, “There are people from Wolf Town here!”

…

At a bandit hideout one kilometer from the ford, three bandits left to mind the place were captured by Winters and his Dusacks.

They also rescued several travelers who had been kidnapped—along with Bunting’s eldest son.

But old Mr. Bunting couldn’t survive the ordeal and had died.

On his trip to Revodan, old Bunting had only taken his eldest son, and on the return trip, it was also just the two of them who set out early, unfortunately, they were intercepted by bandits near the ford.

Finding only deeds on them and no cash, the bandits brutally beat both father and son.

The younger Bunting, strong and durable, survived, but the elder Bunting was beaten to a breath away from death and passed away that evening.

The fickleness of fate is truly lamentable.

…

After cleaning up the battlefield, the caravan at the Panto River ford split into two groups.

Mayor Mitchell of Wolf Town led the main force back to Wolf Town.

Lieutenant Montaigne, on the other hand, led six Dusacks and four wagons of prisoners and the bodies of bandits back the way they came to Revodan.

By the time Winters finally returned to Wolf Town, there was less than half a month left until the deadline for submitting the militia roster.

In past years, every household in the town was beaming with joy when the caravan returned, but this year was unusually sad.

Mourning, funerals, and conscription had to be carried out simultaneously.

The drivers and hired hands of the caravan suffered more than twenty casualties, with the severely injured dying soon after as well.

“`

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