Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"They say." Old Tasso was also quite puzzled: "'The rebels' are engaging in large-scale purchases in Artemis, grain, hemp, oil, tobacco… no matter what it is, as long as it's transported to Artemis, it can be sold to 'the rebels' for twice the price. That's why the lords are sending good things there cartloads at a time as if possessed."

"Grain prices will rise again?" Laor suddenly snapped back to his senses: "Deliver to Artemis, and 'the rebels' will buy? Blood Wolf... where do they get so much gold and silver from? Could this be a trap..."

Old Tasso leaned on his saber, shrugging nonchalantly.

Old Majiya remained silent.

A commotion suddenly came from ahead, waking the napping drivers under the roadside trees, who looked towards the checkpoint, confused.

Suddenly, one coachman ran towards his cart. Following him, the other coachmen rushed to their carts like a herd following a panicked horse.

A voice as loud as a bell came from the front:

"Prepare your passes!"

"Keep a two-horse distance between the front and back carts!"

"Don't dawdle! Hurry up! Move! Move it!"

"..."

Old Majiya and Old Tasso exchanged glances, while Laor couldn't help but crane his neck to look.

The voice became clearer and nearer, and the idlers blocking the road quickly stepped aside, allowing Majiya's family of three a clear view of the "source of the voice":

A young man of dignified appearance stood there, medium height but looking quite strong; though wearing a faded old army uniform, the boots under his feet were of excellent quality;

What was even more striking was the luxurious saber hanging from the young man's belt.

Judging by the exquisite craftsmanship alone, that saber should be treated as a family heirloom on display over a fireplace, rather than loosely strapped to a belt with two leather straps.

More impressive than the saber was the young man's pair of bright, energetic eyes.

The sharp gaze shooting from those eyes was like an arrow, causing everyone in its path to instinctively dodge aside.

Majiya Laor also felt the scrutiny of the saber-wielding young man. His instincts urged him to avoid the gaze, but he gritted his teeth, defiantly staring back.

In the end, Laor did not shy away from the other's gaze.

However, perhaps it was precisely this brief passing glance that caused the saber-wielding young man, who had already walked past the three, to turn back.

The saber-wielding young man turned back calmly, but the 'rebel' soldiers following him immediately surrounded Majiya's family of three.

Glancing around, the saber-wielding young man identified the true leader among them and looked at Old Majiya: "Pass?"

Old Majiya nodded, taking out a letter from the saddlebag — a pass signed by the mayor of Oak Town — and handed it to Laor beside him.

"To whom?" Laor asked with a stiff neck.

The saber-wielding young man extended his hand politely.

Old Tasso raised an eyebrow, while Laor's eyes held a hint of mockery, yet Old Majiya kept his usual stern expression.

However, to Old Tasso and Laor's surprise, the saber-wielding young man, after taking the pass, did not merely glance at it and wave them through, but instead started "reading" it carefully.

"Mr. Majiya?" the young man inquired.

Old Majiya nodded slightly.

"And these two are?"

"I'm just a horse feeder," Old Tasso answered first, then gestured to Laor: "This is our young master."

"Reason for travel is…" the saber-wielding young man slightly frowned: "Visiting friends?"

Old Majiya nodded again slightly.

The saber-wielding young man surveyed the three from top to bottom, slowly folding the pass back to its original state.

Laor braced himself and questioned: "Anything else we can assist with?"

"No need to be tense." The saber-wielding young man flashed a bright smile, pointing ahead at the checkpoint: "Freight carts have to queue here; you all can proceed directly."

Laor looked at the checkpoint ahead, then at his father and Old Tasso, frustration evident on his face: "So why are we waiting?"

Old Tasso looked questioningly at Old Majiya.

"Thank you," Old Majiya nodded in acknowledgment.

The saber-wielding young man nodded in return, gesturing to lead the way. Majiya's family of three, whether willingly or not, followed the saber-wielding young man smoothly towards the checkpoint.

However, just halfway there, Laor suddenly stopped, eyes wide, staring ahead in a daze.

Old Tasso followed Laor's gaze and couldn't help his pupils from dilating.

Previously, the distance and the trees lining the road obscured the view, so the three hadn't noticed.

But at their current position, the previously hidden scene unfolded clearly in front of them:

Upon the massive oak tree by the checkpoint, human corpses hung densely.

Dozens of bodies swayed rhythmically in the wind, as if performing a terrifying group dance.

Laor suddenly felt a tremendous force surge from his stomach; though Old Tasso maintained composure, he didn't look well; Old Majiya turned his body, not sparing the oak tree a single glance.

The saber-wielding young man observed all their reactions. Perhaps feeling the scene was a bit too much, he proactively explained: "Those are all bandits and criminals sentenced to hanging. There was no time to build gallows for them, so they were directly hung on the tree."

Old Tasso leaned on his saber, swallowing hard, struggling to force a smile: "Blood Wolf's methods are, indeed… extraordinary…"

"The principle of punishment is to punish less, but punish severely," the saber-wielding young man swept his gaze over the long line of carts ahead of the checkpoint, then glanced at the hanging tree in the distance, calmly asking in return: "If they weren't hung on the tree, how would good people dare to go out?"

"Bare punishment, severe punishment," Old Tasso studied the saber-wielding young man for a while, then finally bowed his head: "Wise words."

"That wasn't my quote," the saber-wielding young man smiled: "It's your esteemed quote."

The rebel checkpoint was divided into incoming and outgoing sides, each with a small door and a large door.

In front of the large door, the 'rebel' soldiers on duty were checking and tallying the goods of a two-horse cart. This was likely the reason for the long queue behind.

Since the establishment of the Newly Reclaimed Lands Province, tolls had been an important revenue source for each garrison. There were checkpoints between counties, and checkpoints and posts between towns. It could be said checkpoints and posts were everywhere.

It wasn't just traders; civilians deeply resented this but could do nothing. Even someone with little travel experience like Laor knew what the rebel soldiers were doing.

Old Tasso spoke for the "employer's" family, putting on a fawning smile and asking humbly: "Excuse me? Toll?"

"None." The saber-wielding young man replied astonishingly.

Old Tasso was momentarily stumped: "None what?"

"No toll," the saber-wielding young man repeated, thinking for a moment before adding: "At least none for now."

Laor couldn't help but question: "Then why still?"

He pointed at the 'rebel' soldiers inspecting the freight carts, the latter half of the sentence unnecessary to finish.

"Civil Guard Officer Bard's orders, tolls are waived," the saber-wielding young man replied politely: "But declarations and inspections are still required."

After speaking, the saber-wielding young man gestured: "Please."

Under the 'rebels' soldiers' "surveillance," Majiya's family of three walked step by step towards the checkpoint.

For some reason, with each step forward, Laor's heart beat faster. But seeing his father's steady stride, he forced himself to suppress the dizziness and nausea, continuing forward.

At the checkpoint, the rebel soldiers on duty coldly asked: "Anything to declare?"

Laor shook his head.

"Yes," Old Majiya succinctly answered: "Gold."

He reached into the small saddlebag hanging in front of the saddle, pulling out two short rod-shaped ceramic sticks, which he struck against each other hard.

The ceramic coating cracked and fell away, revealing part of the contents.

Under the midday sun, they glowed with an alluring lustre.