Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"By the Host! It's this late already, just stop quarreling," Winters had also cursed for the first time using expletives reserved for the faithful, feeling exceptionally weary—emotionally.

"Well, do you dare to bet with me?" Despite Winters's words, Bard kept his gaze fixedly on Andre, ignoring Winters.

Andre felt the stare prickling him, but his mouth remained defiant: "Fine, if you can recruit enough people to build the road, I will never say 'rustic' again in my life!"

"Agreed, it's a deal."

Bard and Andre clapped hands to swear on their bet.

After the clap, Bard spoke calmly: "I've already said, what lacks between the commoners of the island and us is trust. And trust... it can be bought with money."

"Buy trust? How does one buy it?" Winters was intrigued, leaning involuntarily towards Bard.

He felt inspired by Bard's words but still couldn't see through the haze, like an itch out of reach, making him desperate to know the solution.

"It's simple, just purchase some firewood," Bard didn't keep them in suspense, explaining in detail: "To build a foundation of trust, start from somewhere harmless. We'll buy firewood at a high price on the island, and when the farmers receive the money immediately after the sale, a fundamental trust is established between us."

"Buy firewood... and they will come to build the road?" Andre stood dumbfounded, bewildered.

"Just buying firewood of course isn't enough. After buying the firewood, we then hire people from the village to transport it to Red Sulfur Harbor—also paying a high salary." Bard's mouth held a confident smile: "Most farmers won't enlist, only a few daring ones will dare to come. But, as long as the farmers transporting the firewood return home safely with their pay, the others in the village will grow envious and regretful."

Bard of Gerard paused, gazing into the eyes of Winters and Andre, speaking gravely: "Thus, a foundation of trust is built. When you go back to the villages to recruit, those boldest and most avaricious farmers will apply. And as long as a small group of these road-building farmers return home safely, the others will understand we don't intend to enslave them. By then, heh heh, every able-bodied farmer on the island will be your road worker!"

"Let's do it this way! I don't believe we can't bring people in!" Winters slapped his thigh, laughing: "I say, not only should we pay those who transport the firewood, but also give each of them two pieces of cloth! Money in the pocket is invisible to others. Confer two pieces of fine red cloth to take home, and anyone with eyes can see it clearly!"

"You sure do have a lot of sly ideas…" Bard was amused into laughter as well.

"Eh? Wait a moment, I'm a bit confused," Andre, rubbing his temples, asked hesitantly: "So what do we need the firewood for?"

"What for? Didn't Bard just say? To buy trust," Winters patted Andre's arm.

"No, no, no, what I mean is… we have to buy something anyway, so what do we need the firewood for?" Andre asked as he sorted out his thoughts: "Why don't we buy something useful? Like some grain or live pigs or something."

"If we wanted to buy grain, the farmers wouldn't sell it to us. Without grain, people would starve, but without firewood, they could simply go chop more," Bard immediately clarified his deeper considerations: "Right now, what the farmers on this island are most afraid of is us taking their grain, so if we were to buy grain, it would be like drawing snakes out of their nests. We have to buy firewood, and specifically dry firewood. Dry firewood, even though it's something the farmers have at home, they won't have too much of it. Plus, even if they sold it all to us, they wouldn't be afraid."

"So that's the consideration…" Andre felt somewhat dizzy.

"However, just to be safe, we better find a 'proxy' as well," Bard said, smiling gleefully: "A proxy that not only we can trust but also the commoners on the island, and who would never be suspected as a 'proxy'."

"Hongsong Manor—Kalman!" Winters and Andre exclaimed in unison.

The three sub-lieutenants looked at each other and burst out laughing.

...

...

This was the second day after the three sub-lieutenants had agreed on the plan.

It was now sunset, with the sun slanting to the west.

In Tri-leaf Village, near Hongsong Manor.

Farmer Boris was peeking from behind the gate, anxiously waiting for his wife's return.

Under the eaves of Boris's house, where there used to be a pile of firewood as tall as a man, was now completely empty.

Suddenly he heard footsteps, which made Boris shiver with fright.

The footsteps grew nearer, and Boris recognized them not as the heavy steps of a man but as the light footfall of a woman; he was then able to relax.

It was his wife, Maria, coming back.

Upon hearing the footsteps reach the gate, Boris didn't wait for the woman to knock; he rushed to open the door and hastily asked, "Have you returned?"

"Good heavens, you scared me to death! Yes, yes, I'm back," Maria was startled, catching her breath as she complained, "Why don't you let me in first?"

Boris quickly let his wife into the house.

The farmers in the village had been walking on eggshells these past few days, and Boris was no different.

A few days earlier, two gentlemen on horseback had come to the village with dozens of fierce-looking guards, calling the farmers together and announcing they were recruiting people to build a road.

Boris hadn't dared to go to the village square when the gentlemen had arrived, and he certainly didn't dare to "build roads."

Even though the offer of five silver coins a day was tempting, who knew if it was a trap? The men were worried that if they went, they might never come back, so no one dared to go.