Chapter 210 Embers

Click, click.

The sound of the fire sickle striking flint.

The fireless ashes burned again, and Winters emerged from his coma.

His body was so dizzy and painful that he tried to open his eyes, but his vision was blurry.

His vision was blurred, and his consciousness was equally blurry. He smelled a nice milky fragrance.

Winters' nose twitched, and he thought vaguely: "Is it true that heaven really exists? Or does it smell like milk?"

His vision gradually recovered, and a strange thing became clear in his eyes: it was a wheel, composed of dozens of thin spokes, covered with cloth and faintly revealing light.

How weird.

Soon, Winters' thinking ability gradually recovered, and he began to be able to think.

He concluded that this was not heaven—unless God also lived in a tent!

Where is the wheel? It is clearly the dome of a tent, and he is lying in a felt tent.

Winters suddenly became alert. He moved his body to observe the situation around him.

Suddenly, there was a tearing pain in his left calf, which caused cold sweat to break out on his forehead.

Winters gritted his teeth without making a sound.

He was sure that he had fallen into the hands of the Hurds, and his instinct made him want to hide.

But it hurts so much! It hurt so much that it felt like there was no longer anything left on his body below his left leg!

The filthy medical center... mud mixed with blood and soil... piles of sawed-off arms and legs... "Don't let them saw my arms!" Andre was crying and begging: "Winters! "...

These scenes suddenly appeared in his mind, and a great sense of fear tightened his heart: "Am I..."

Winters had never been so scared. He desperately reached out to touch his left leg and foot.

Fortunately, they were all there. Winters breathed a long sigh of relief and couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Someone outside seemed to hear the movement inside the tent, and the curtain was lifted.

"Crap," Winters thought to himself.

In walked a young girl wearing a narrow embroidered Hurd gown.

Seeing Winters opening his eyes, Miss Hurd smiled and said with crooked eyes, "Are you awake?"

When she smiled, the felt tent became brighter—really brighter, because someone removed the curtain from the skylight.

Winters originally thought that what was waiting for him was a heavily armed guard, but he never thought it was a girl like this.

He froze in place, not knowing how to react.

"Are you thirsty? Are you cold? Do you want to eat?" The strange girl approached Winters and took another blanket to cushion Winters' back so that he could sit upright.

Winters' body was tense and his mind was on high alert. He didn't know the other party, and it seemed to him that the other party was acting on his own.

He stared closely into the strange girl's eyes, like a wounded beast that had fallen into a trap.

But when it comes to taking care of Winters, the strange girl seems very familiar and natural.

Taking advantage of the opportunity for the other party to turn around, Winters carefully inspected the tent boy with his eyes.

The wooden frame was covered with leather - a typical felt tent structure, but much smaller than the heavenly offering tents he had seen.

The floor of the felt tent was covered with a thick blanket, and he was lying on the blanket at the moment. Hurds seemed not to sleep on beds.

An iron stove stood in the center of the felt tent. Winters couldn't believe his eyes.

There was an iron furnace in the center, and Winters couldn't believe his eyes - it turned out to be the "Sawyer Furnace" built by Balian.

Not new, but old, with signs of Winters' use on it.

He and his friends once cooked noodles around this iron stove and passed around a bottle of spirits.

There is a copper pot on the iron stove, and something is cooking in it. The smell of milk comes from there.

Miss Hurd picked up the copper pot, poured a bowl of hot milk, and put it on the small table beside Winters' pillow: "Don't drink it yet, it's hot."

There is also a gold plate placed on the small table.

On the gold plate was a piece of cooked lamb backbone, a small dish of salt, and a knife with a silver handle inlaid with gems for cutting meat.

knife!

Miss Hurd turned around and walked to the stove, put a few pieces of dried cow dung on the stove, and stoked the fire even more.

Winters tried to reach for the knife, but his limbs were too stiff.

Before he could reach out his hand, Miss Hurd suddenly turned back.

Miss Hurd brought a small stool and sat down next to Winters. She held the milk bowl and blew gently.

"Do you like eating milk skin?" She smiled warmly.

"You...you can speak Common?" Winters asked hoarsely.

Miss Hurd actually spoke lingua franca without any accent.

Miss Hurd nodded slightly.

"Where did you learn it?" Winters asked again. He hadn't spoken for so long that his vocal cords seemed to be stuck.

Just as Miss Hurd was about to speak, a rough male voice from outside the tent interrupted her.

"[Hede] Qing'er, is that boy dead?"

A strong man with a red face broke into the felt tent, blowing in a gust of cold wind.

The eyes of the red-faced strong man and Winters met, and the pupils of both parties suddenly expanded.

"Monkey butt face." Winters' thoughts were like lightning: "Have I fallen into the hands of the Telton Department?"

The fire-warmer's face turned even redder, so red that it seemed like he could bleed.

Because he saw that "Plathubala Baldur" was not only not dead, but also woke up from a coma.

Because he saw "Qing'er" holding a bowl of hot milk and sitting next to him.

The hand of the fire-warmer reaches for the hilt of the knife.

"[Herdese] Grandma! Grandma! Go call the little lion!" The strange girl shouted outside the tent. She stretched out her arms to protect Winters: "[Herdese] You are taking advantage of this moment to bully him. , what kind of skill is that?"

Winters tried to enter a spellcasting state, but the intense phantom pain made it difficult to concentrate.

He was not surprised that this happened. He had been mentally prepared when he pushed himself to the limit again and again.

Just because he couldn't use magic didn't mean he would just sit back and die.

While the fire-warmer's attention was distracted, Winters quietly took the knife from the plate and hid it in the palm of his hand.

Considering the condition of his left leg, it was impossible to dodge the opponent's attack.

Winters was ready to grab the opponent's arm while the fire roaster pierced his abdomen, and stabbed the opponent's neck with a knife, slicing it open.

He was only worried that his muscles would be too stiff to fight back due to being in bed. So he moved his wrist gently and slowly regained his strength.

Winters himself didn't realize it: his mentality had changed dramatically.

His body left the battlefield, but his spirit remained there. He already regarded himself as a dead person, and it would be a profit to replace one of them.

The fire-warmer and the strange girl were having a heated argument.

Winters listened carefully. He couldn't understand what the two were saying, but he could tell that the strange girl was protecting him.

He also heard the word "Ahach" coming from the girl's mouth.

"Little lion?" He briefly analyzed the situation and concluded: "This is the territory of the Chihe tribe."

The fire-warmer was at a disadvantage in the argument. He held the handle of the knife, kicked open the curtain, and left angrily.

Miss Hurd sat back on the small stool, held up the milk bowl, and blew gently.

As she blew, she began to shed tears.

"Why are you crying?" Winters didn't know what to say.

"It's nothing." Miss Hurd wiped away her tears and brought the milk to Winters' lips: "It's ready to drink. Please drink a little."

Winters raised his stiff arms and took the milk bowl in panic: "I can do it myself."

"Okay, do it yourself."

I don’t know how long he had been in bed, but Winters’ muscles were extremely stiff and sore. I didn't drink the bowl of milk, but half of it was spilled.

Miss Hurd brought him a handkerchief and wiped it with him.

At this moment, another person walked into the felt tent.

The visitor spoke in lingua franca, but his accent was much stiffer.

The visitor smiled and asked, "Are you busy?"

Winters saw the face of the visitor clearly, and his expression gradually calmed down and became calm: "Is it you?"

"It's me." The visitor nodded.

Winters would never admit his mistake, how could he forget someone who almost killed him?

Although the other party is taller, stronger, and wearing better clothes, the stubbornness in his bones has not diminished one bit compared to the past.

It was as if a transparent glass door was broken in his mind, and Winters was awakened: the slave boy in the dark longhouse on Red Sulfur Island was the little lion, the younger brother of the white lion.

"What should I call you?" Winters simply lay down.

The little lion sat cross-legged next to Winters: "Whatever you want, hey, you, kid."

"Then I'll call you little lion?"

The little lion scratched the back of his head: "I feel ashamed every time I hear this name. I don't deserve to be a lion."

Winters desperately wants to know what's going on outside: "Where am I?"

"Where else could it be? The prairie."

"How many days have I been in coma?"

"Six days." The little lion added: "Counting from the time I found you."

Winters thought: Six days? Didn't the Chihe tribe cross the river to pursue?

These questions were too sensitive and he was cautious not to speak.

The little lion pointed at Winters' abdomen and said, "You were shot here. The original sutures were torn apart, and we sewed them back up for you."

He pointed to the back of Winters' head and said, "I also received a blow on the back of the head, which knocked you unconscious, but your bones are fine."

Got a hammer on the back of the head? Winters was unimpressed.

He tried to remember, but his memory only went as far as his rendezvous with Colonel Bode.

After that, there are just scattered fragments, and the context is unclear.

The little lion patted Winters's left calf: "The bone is broken, and it was stepped on by the horse's hoof. I've hired the best doctor to treat this kind of injury for you. Don't move around and take good care of yourself. Hey, heal the injury first." Say it again."

"Heal your wounds first before talking." This sentence is very ambiguous.

Winters nodded.

No matter what others thought, Winters had no intention of staying in the wasteland for long. But he only needs to know this for himself, and there is no need to say it to irritate others.

"The most powerful thing is here." The little lion pointed at Winters' chest with interest: "You were also shot in the heart, at close range, and the armor was completely penetrated."

"Then why am I still alive?" Winters raised his eyebrows.

The little lion took something out of his arms, laughed and said, "Because of this!"

The thing that saved Winters' life was the wine bottle given to him by Arpad.

Half of the thumb-sized lead bullet was broken off, and the remaining half was embedded in the wine bottle. The flagon was completely deformed and leaked.

Winters covered his face: "What a vulgar plot!"

The corners of the little lion's lips curled up into a smile: "Don't worry about it, I just need to save your life anyway."

"Where did you get this iron stove?" Winters asked, pointing to the Sawyer stove.

"This iron stove is a good thing. I brought it here specially for you." The little lion couldn't express his excitement: "It saves fuel, has no open flame, and is easy to transport. It took twenty sheep to replace it, but it's a pity that there is only one .”

As a Veneta native, Winters subconsciously calculated the profits from this business. He knew very well how much iron material Beierang used. Even if he had ten sheep, he would still be able to make a profit - but the key point was the labor cost.

He looked at the little lion and told him with his eyes: "You made a loss."

After saying a few words, the two suddenly fell into silence.

How could he be a life-and-death enemy one second, chatting happily the next?

Both parties were trying to maintain the atmosphere of the conversation.

Once the topics were exhausted, the air became solemn.

The little lion suppressed his smile and solemnly took out a small iron box from his arms and placed it next to Winters' pillow.

Inside the iron box is a bundle of gray bristles.

Winters' face was expressionless, as if he wasn't sad at all: "Thank you."

"According to our custom, nothing is wasted, everything that can be eaten is eaten, and everything that can be used is used." The little lion said seriously: "But he is your close partner, so I buried him properly. . It’s buried so deep that crows, vultures can’t peck it, and wolves can’t pick it up. I’ll take you there after you recover from your injuries.”

Winters still showed no emotion: "Thank you."

The little lion was a little sad: "He...protected you until the end. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to find you. He left only after fulfilling his wish. I will tell you his story in detail later." "

He pointed at the Hurd girl and said: "This is my sister. She has been taking care of you these days when you were unconscious. She washed your wounds, wiped your body, and fed you. If you need anything, just ask Tell her. I'm leaving, you have a good rest."

After saying that, he nodded, got up and left.

Winters buttoned up the iron box that contained Force Mane and held it against his heart. The iron box is ice cold.

He had no tears, all his tears had turned into blood and flowed out.

He couldn't tell what it felt like, because part of his emotions seemed to be numb.

Miss Hurd took the sewing basket and said while doing handiwork: "My name is Erlun. If you find it difficult to pronounce, you can also call me Miliya."

"E'erlun, what do you mean?"

"It means 'green'."

"There are two other pieces of jewelry that are also yours." Erlun took out a gold locket and an exquisite statue of Athena, and gently placed them beside Winters' pillow: "It's safe here with you, no one will do it again Hurt you."

"Thanks."

"But this is mine." Erlen took the silver-handled knife from under Winters' blanket: "You can't take the girl's sword randomly."

…

At the same time that Winters woke up, the remnants of the Plato Expedition finally arrived at the border.

Just the sight of the boundary river made many people fall to their knees and cry out in prayer.

…

When the Plato Expeditionary Force crossed the border river more than three months ago, there were:

three generals;

The standing infantry of the Fifth and Sixth Corps, with a total of 10,734 officers and men;

An independent engineer auxiliary force with a total of 1,175 officers and soldiers;

Fifty cavalry squadrons, 6172 light and heavy cavalry.

A total of 18,084 people - just combat soldiers.

The levied militiamen who entered the wilderness included 103 centurions, with a total of 8,563 officers and soldiers.

The militiamen recruited, plus the civilians and traders who could not be counted in detail, the total number of auxiliary troops was more than 10,000.

The total number of combat soldiers and auxiliary soldiers exceeds 28,000.

This is an army that scares the Hed barbarians, and its combat power ranks first among all the republics.

It has the strongest cavalry force in Senas, two fully manned standing legions, an indestructible hammer and an indestructible shield.

In fact, it was already a bit too big for the Republic of Plato.

This was originally supposed to be an ordinary short-term war: the army went to the wilderness to sweep away the Hurds, drew new boundaries with the tribes, and then drove the herds across. Success, promotion and fortune.

There may be sporadic small-scale conflicts later, but that is not a big problem. The Platuan people have a mature set of countermeasures.

The demand from the wool industry in the United Provinces and Veneta meant that whatever wool Plato produced would be wiped out.

The large number of immigrants from Monta, Vann, the United Provinces and even the Empire allowed Plato to develop the wilderness at an alarming rate.

In line with the overall strategy of "salami slicing," Plato cuts just one piece at a time. I have been cutting for thirty years and have never lost once.

If anyone had told them, they would have had their heads smashed this time. The Plattians would laugh, then shake their heads and walk away.

…

Seven days ago, more than a thousand Dussac light cavalry recruited from the newly cultivated land arrived secretly on the east bank of the Styx.

The number of raiders who crossed the River Styx was close to six thousand. On the day they set foot on Plato, the Army Headquarters issued a general recruitment order.

Long before the militias from various places were assembled, the barbarian army had already left with a lot of loot.

In addition, there are still more than a thousand barbarian knights stranded in Plato - perhaps because they did not grab enough.

They chased the troops in Plato like a cat chasing a mouse, involving a large number of troops.

After thirty years of barbarian invasion, various rumors spread like wildfire, and the country of Plato was in turmoil.

The "local councils" of each city, city, and town tried their best to keep the troops local in order to protect themselves.

The two regiments of more than a thousand Dusak light cavalry were all the mobile forces that the Palato Army Headquarters could dispatch at one time.

One thousand light cavalry is also a considered force.

If Plato sent an army of 100,000 troops over in one go, everyone would starve to death in the wasteland without the barbarians taking action.

That night, when the Plato army on the west bank forcibly crossed the Styx, Dussac's light cavalry also launched a surprise attack on more than 4,000 Hed raiders on the east bank.

But crossing the Styx does not mean escaping. In addition to the more than two thousand sheepskin bags bundled with the giant raft that hit the bridge, the barbarian also had more than a thousand sheepskin bags in his hands.

With these sheepskin bags, each of the Hed tribes pursued the Plato expeditionary army one after another.

Until they met with the troops who came to meet them, the Platuan people and the Hed tribes fought a total of thirteen times. The worst thing is that the kills are equal, and they don't lose even once.

However, of the more than 28,000-strong expeditionary force, less than 11,000 people reached Jiehe alive.

Nearly half of the standing army was lost in battle, and more than 8,000 auxiliary soldiers were either killed in battle, captured, or abandoned on the west bank of the Styx.

Except for the remaining weapons, armor, mules, horses, and lives, everything else was left in the wilderness.

Is the war over?

Both sides licked their wounds and retreated, and the war might have ended like this.

But for the Republic of Plato and the tribes of Hed, this is not the end, this is not even the beginning of the end.

This is just the end of the beginning.

But these had nothing to do with Winters. He lay on the wilderness and fell asleep again.

This volume is not completely over yet, but the rest is dessert, and there are some things that need to be explained.

Because the end of the volume is approaching, it was a bit difficult to write for a while, and the updates were not very stable. I apologize for this.

Thanks to book friends for reading, subscribing, recommending tickets, monthly tickets, tips and comments, thank you all.

Yesterday's thank you list is combined with today's.