Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"I..." Winters slowly began, "I would like to nominate Andreya Chelini as a civil-military tribune simultaneously!"

"Civil-military tribune!" people in the square cheered.

"I would like to nominate Richard Mason as a civil-military tribune simultaneously!"

"Civil-military tribune!!"

"I would like to nominate Bard of Gerard as a civil-military tribune simultaneously!"

"Civil-military tribune!!!" The atmosphere reached its peak.

"Bring up the third batch of prisoners!" Winters ordered with a wave of his hand.

The smile froze on old Priskin's face.

Seventeen noblemen of Revodan were tremulously brought up to the execution platform, where the blood had not yet dried, leaving a trail of bloody footprints as they stepped on it.

The short journey felt like walking towards an abyss.

"Kneel," Winters commanded coldly.

In the blink of an eye, all seventeen knelt down, those standing in blood knelt directly in it.

Winters drew his sword and rested it on little Mr. Priskin's shoulder.

Old Priskin's vision darkened, nearly fainting.

Winters said slowly, without urgency, "You have been secretly conspiring with the New Reclamation Legion, passing messages, and plotting to attack the city gates to help my enemies take Revodan."

Little Priskin couldn't even speak, shaking like chaff and sobbing uncontrollably.

"I respect loyalty, so I don't blame you," Winters said without using a voice amplification spell, "After all, at that time, you were loyal to the New Reclamation Legion, and since my appointment as garrison officer, I have never required you to swear fealty to me. But from this perspective, you are still my enemies, and I must still kill you."

Someone among the seventeen began to cry out loud.

"So I'll give you an opportunity," Winters said with a smile, "Swear your loyalty to me."

He hadn't planned to massacre in Revodan. It was easy to kill seventeen people, but ruling Revodan afterward would be difficult.

Little Priskin grasped Winters' sword and kissed it fiercely, not minding that the blade cut his palm open.

The others scrambled over and did the same.

Winters sheathed his sword, picked up little Priskin from the ground, and casually said, "You only get one chance."

Little Priskin shuddered, tears swirling in his eyes, and he nodded frantically.

"No crying," Winters patting little Priskin's shoulder, raised his hand and waved cheerfully to the crowd in the square, "Smile!"

Little Priskin forcefully pushed back the tears in his eyes.

People in the square couldn't hear what they were saying, only seeing the newly appointed civil-military tribune lay his sword on old Mr. Priskin's grandson's shoulder, then pull him up and wave towards the square.

They saw little Mr. Priskin smiling, smiling as if he was truly delighted.

"Centurion, what's going on here?" Peter [the Short] Bunir quietly asked Tamas in front of the execution platform.

"What centurion? Call me platoon leader!" Although Tamas was clueless as well, he put up a front and replied, "Can't tell? It's the knighting of a knight!"

"Civil-military tribune!" Tamas roared again to add excitement.

He didn't know what the word meant; he thought it was a new battle cry or cheer.

After his shout, the soldiers of his platoon started shouting, soon followed by everyone in the square.

Cries of "civil-military tribune" echoed once again to the heavens.

In the thunderous cheers, Xial came running, saying with concern, "Brother, looks like we'll have to treat everyone well today..."