Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters
Chapter 1191 - 23 The Great Alliance Moves Forward (8)_3

Chapter 1191: Chapter 23 The Great Alliance Moves Forward (8)_3

Lieutenant Kadar did not answer directly, but continued to ask: "Do you remember who the commander of the Iron Peak County rebels was?"

"Montaigne, Winters Montagne." After saying the name, Major Felter was silent for a long time. After a struggle, he reluctantly spat out the title: "Blood of the Wolf."

"I have one more thing to tell you." Lieutenant Kadar seemed to experience a struggle even more painful than the major’s, his face almost turning liver-red: "I-I-I... I know Sergeant Winters Montagne."

"You know him?" Major Felter was astonished.

"Sergeant Montagne." Lieutenant Kadar squeezed out a smile uglier than crying: "He’s my platoon leader."

Major Felter folded his arms, lost in thought.

Lieutenant Kadar quickly added, speaking faster and quieter as he went: "I only know who Winters Montagne from the Military Academy is. I’m not sure if Platoon Leader Montagne and the ’Winters Montagne’ mentioned by that soldier are the same person... and I certainly don’t know if he is..."

Major Felter said nothing, only stared at the lieutenant with a burning gaze.

Kadar was on the verge of tears: "Blood Wolf."

...

While Kadar was explaining everything he remembered about Winters Montagne in detail to Major Felter, a few kilometers away in Green Valley, under clouds as red as blood, another "alumni meeting" was taking place.

"What’s your name?" Andre asked with a cheerful smile.

Bare-chested, he stood brazenly. Meanwhile, two auxiliary soldiers were working together to wrap tight layers of fabric around his waist and abdomen.

The fabric was wrapped so tightly that it was almost cutting into the flesh. Andre wore a smile, seemingly unaffected.

"Imre." The captured lieutenant battalion leader of the Sixth Battalion of the Sixth Legion replied softly. Dust and bloodstains had yet to be washed from the lieutenant’s face, and he dared not look directly at his senior: "Reporting, Imre Kina."

"Never heard of you." Andre thought for a moment and asked, "Cavalry Department? Class of 22?"

Imre hung his head, twisting the straps at the sides of his trousers, and said quietly: "Artillery Department, Class of 22."

"Then you might not meet any acquaintances today." Andre immediately lost interest, regretfully glancing at his junior: "I suppose there aren’t any spare warhorses for you, so you’ll have to walk with the infantry. Don’t fall behind! If ordinary prisoners fall behind, no one might care, but you, since you know too much..."

Andre patted his junior’s shoulder with pity: "If you fall behind, you’ll be killed."

Lieutenant Imre wanted to cry but couldn’t.

Fortunately, only Andre Cherini came to engage in "friendly activities" with the captured officers.

Colonel Seber, being of higher rank, disdained to initiate conversation with juniors. Winters was quite busy and had no time to come recognize anyone.

After the auxiliary soldiers tightly wrapped fabric from waist to ribs, Andre put his uniform back on and walked towards his subordinates.

Not only Andre, but all New Army cavalry in Green Valley were making the same preparations—wrapping their waists and abdomens with several meters of fabric.

This was a "new technique" Winters brought back from the Hed Tribes. The external force generated by the fabric stabilized the rider’s spine and internal organs, making the rider more capable of withstanding the jolts and impacts of riding.

For short-distance charges, this preparation could be considered superfluous; but for long-distance raids, such preparations were extremely important.

Seeing Lieutenant Cherini approach, the cavalrymen paused their work to salute.

Andre nodded nonchalantly, saying nothing as he walked among his subordinates, checking to see if their waist bands were securely fastened.

When checking Tulin, he tugged at the fabric around Tulin’s waist—it didn’t budge.

Andre said nothing and continued to check the young man next to Tulin—loose and obviously not tightly wrapped.

Without a word, Andre lifted his leg and aimed a kick at Tulin. Tulin, knowing he was in the wrong, didn’t dodge, and after stumbling, stood up straight, ready for a second kick—the cavalrymen helped each other wrap their belts.

But the second kick didn’t come. Tulin was surprised to see Andre reach to untie the fabric around the young man’s waist, personally helping him prepare for battle. He hesitated for a moment, then quickly stepped forward to assist.

"If this thing isn’t tight," Andre said impatiently while working: "It’ll ruin your back! Especially since the road this time isn’t easy."

The young man swallowed and said softly: "Yes."

"What’s your name?" Andre asked casually.

"Alexander." The young man repeated his full name: "Alexander Nikolayevich."

"Good name." Andre tied a knot at the end of the fabric, then smiling, punched the young man’s chest: "Don’t fall behind."

"Yes." The young man replied firmly. He wanted to say more, but Lieutenant Cherini had already moved on to the next person.

In the farmland behind Andre, Tulin, and Alexander, thousands of horses were enjoying their last meal before departing.

All of Green Valley’s mules and horses had been gathered, including not just military animals but also civilian ones.

Even livestock like cows, sheep, and donkeys, which were not subject to requisition, were herded into the woods downstream of the Niuxi River—actually, the New Army didn’t need to act at all. The farmers had spontaneously hidden their livestock and grain. In the past two years, they’ve learned a lot.

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