Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

The old man spat out another incomprehensible sentence, and several skinny black men responded. They carried out Winters' subordinate, who had disappeared after entering the house earlier.

Bard immediately bent down to check, pressing his hand to the soldier's neck.

After the examination, Bard nodded at Winters to signify that the man was just knocked out but still had a pulse.

A half-grown boy of about fifteen or sixteen was supporting the old man, and Winters noticed the boy's injured chin and blood at the corner of his mouth, realizing what had happened.

Having nearly been taken down by such a youngster, Winters felt a complex mix of emotions. He pointed his curved knife at the boy and asked, "It was you who sneak-attacked me, wasn't it?"

"If I had a knife too." The boy with chains on his hands spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and answered in a stiff lingua franca, "Would it be your turn to ask questions now?"

Seeing the chains on these people and their dwelling, Winters had a rough idea of their situation. He sheathed his knife and asked with detached coolness, "Are you slaves of this plantation?"

The skinny, black boy took great offense at the word and was about to erupt when the old man held him back.

"We're not slaves, we. are. enslaved. free. people," the old man solemnly and earnestly corrected Winters, then counter-asked, "As for you, who exactly are you?"

"We are free people who have not been enslaved," Winters replied, not keen on revealing too much.

"You... you are Venetians, aren't you?" the old man, squinting his eyes, pierced through their identity: "The free people enslaved by Gold by the sea."

Winters let out a dry chuckle.

"So it seems, your Republic has taken over Red Sulfur Island?"

Winters' eyelid twitched. The slave elder was surprisingly well-informed. He smiled, saying nonchalantly, "You'll find out."

"Oh..." Hearing Winters' reply, the old man sighed softly, his expression dimming before quickly livening up again: "I understand, no need to worry, we will go about our work as usual tomorrow. For now, please leave, we need to rest."

The old man then spoke a few words in a foreign language to the other slaves, and the men, women, elderly, and children in the corner of the room began to move. Ignoring the presence of Winters and his men, they started to re-bind the curtains that had been cut and spread mats on the ground, preparing to sleep in all seriousness.

The Venetians stood dumbfounded, bewilderedly "escorted out" of the slaves' wooden hut.

"Oh, there's another wooden hut to the north with some people living there," the old man added as he sent them off at the door.

Entering and leaving in such a baffling manner, the Venetians were all somewhat at a loss.

Ever since entering the house, Bard had been silent. Only upon leaving did he say to Winters, "Judging by their physical features, these people appear to be Herders."

The soldiers beside them were even more puzzled upon hearing 'Herders,' but the Centurion looked thoughtful.

"Herders? How would Herders end up as slaves on the islands?" Winters, recalling what he had read in books, was also surprised: "Aren't Herders located far to our west, even further west than the Republic of Paratu?"

"It's because they are next to Paratu that Herders can end up as slaves in Tanilia. The Paratu People have a tradition of selling captives as slaves, even going as far as raiding specifically for that purpose," Bard briefly explained.

Winters and the other soldiers suddenly understood.

"Those Paratu shepherds, they indeed do anything." A soldier scoffed softly, disdainfully saying, "Taking believers as slaves, they're not afraid of going to hell!"

"Herders don't believe in our god; they are heretics," Bard corrected the soldier, furrowing his brow then added, "However, we really are in a difficult position now. Enslaving heretics could exploit a loophole in the law of The Federated Provinces, but Venetian law prohibits slavery in any form. So strictly speaking, if we continue to detain them, we'd be breaking the law."

"If we release them, we might as well sign our death warrants. This is an island; we're surrounded by the sea on all sides, where could they possibly go?" Winters muttered gloomily: "Humph, that old man is shrewd. Even if we break their chains, they won't run; he has already seen through us."

"So what do we do... There are at least three or four dozen slaves on this estate of nearly a hundred acres, and we've killed the guards responsible for watching them..." Bard said with difficulty: "Does that mean we need to split up some of our men to take over their duties?"

Winters took a deep breath: "First pirates, then bandits. And now, acting as guards for a slave master really does seem a legitimate occupation... Assign five men to watch them. Make sure they don't escape."

The soldiers snickered.

"That old man said there are more slaves elsewhere?" Winters said languidly to Bard: "Take some men and have a look." Enjoy exclusive content from empire

Bard nodded and led several soldiers towards the north.

But not long after,

another soldier came running to report to Winters: "Centurion, Warrant Officer Bard is calling you over again."

In a shanty further north, the slaves living inside looked very different from the Herders, bearing a closer resemblance to Winters and Bard.

The slaves here were people from Senas Bay.

There, the two warrant officers unexpectedly encountered an acquaintance.