Iron Powder and Spellcasters Chapter 393

   Chapter 393 Storm (6)

   The swift sword that came from behind was fast and poisonous, biting fiercely at Ciel's armpit.

   In a fleeting moment, the blade of the sword accurately captured the gap left by the shoulder armor of the right arm to hold the lance. The skill of swordsmanship is beyond this.

  Ciel couldn't dodge in time, hit the sword, his body suddenly curled up in pain, and he fell forward.

   However, the blade only sunk into the gap of the armor by an inch, and stopped at the lock page under the armpit of the armor, and could not go any further.

   Most of the superb swordsmen did not expect that someone would go to great lengths to prepare a full set of heavy armor - not fighting in battle.

   Failed to make a single blow, the swordsman strode forward, chasing the crotch of the fallen soldier.

   What greeted him was a dark muzzle.

   The shattered lantern, the fallen armor, the silent swordsman, the stunned militia, time seemed to freeze at this moment.

  Ciel forbade gritted his teeth and endured the excruciating pain until the short gun was firmly aimed at the assassin before he pulled the trigger.

   There is a crisp sound of "click", the spring wheel rotates, the flames and gunpowder shoot out, and time resumes the flow.

  The lead bullet penetrates the flesh and smashes the lungs and hearts.

   The swordsman staggered under his feet, and his hand lost its alignment, and the swift sword was pushed by the heavy torso and inserted into Ciel's left leg.

  Ciel used the spear as a hammer and smashed the assassin's head fiercely: "[Broken swear words]!"

  The two sled dogs barked wildly and stuttered. The two militiamen who followed Ciel into the basement were taken aback. One stretched out his hand to pull the assassin, and the other hurriedly wanted to draw his sword.

   There was another dull gunshot, this time, gunpowder smoke was sprayed from the inside of the secret door.

   Immediately after, a dark iron ball flew out of the secret door, and the gunpowder on the shell of the iron ball made a "sizzling" sound.

   On the line of life and death, Ciel burst out with astonishing power, grabbed the iron ball and smashed it back to the secret door, and at the same time pulled the assassin who did not know whether to live or die to block him.

street.

  Two bodies were dragged out of the yard. White-headed Roger looked at them one by one, and the "black-faced man" in his mouth was not among them.

  Charle rested against the wall, having received Kaman's treatment.

   There were two bloodstains extending from his temples, and his hair and eyebrows were covered with dust, as if they were covered with a layer of perfume. There are dark red spots in the middle of the large white, which is mud mixed with blood and dust.

   A militiaman lay quietly on the side of the road, his upper body covered with clothes.

   Another militiaman, staring blankly, slumped next to his neighbor's body, still not recovering from the shock.

  The place where the corpses were placed became a temporary assembly area, and men with weapons continued to rush to meet.

   Several reserve sergeants with sashes ran down the street with torches to maintain order.

  Some women who lived nearby wrapped their shawls and walked out of the house. They stood more than ten meters away from the corpse, whispering and exchanging messages.

  A barefooted young woman ran across the militia line, squeezed past the crowd of onlookers, and ran to the militia's corpse.

   The young woman shivered and opened her clothes, and the last glimmer of hope was also dashed. She fell to her knees weakly, crying bitterly.

   After a while, another limping old woman walked over to the corpse with the help of a servant.

  The old woman looked sad, but she didn't cry in public, she just silently put the clothes back on the deceased, tucked the corners of the clothes meticulously, held the cold hands of the deceased, and chanted in a low voice.

Inside the courtyard walls, Winters had just interrogated the old doctor and his wife, and was leading someone to check the secret room that Charles found.

  The secret room and the basement were sealed off by Winters' order, and the militiamen and unrelated personnel were not allowed to enter.

  When only his own people were around, Winters asked Kaman: "You can tell the truth of what I say, why can't you tell if the old man is lying?"

  Kaman followed, and replied in a muffled voice: "He is so scared, even if he tells the truth, it seems like he is telling a lie."

   The old royalist couple, who had been frightened, said everything they could say like splashing water.

   The problem is that, aside from knowing that they are "serving His Majesty", they are exposed to very little.

  The old doctor has been "serving for His Majesty" for 16 years, and what he has done the most in the past 16 years is actually to record his own experiences - write a diary, and then regularly send the diary to the relatives of North Monta.

   Four years ago, "His Majesty's Servant" disguised as the old doctor's coachman and dug a secret room under his house. Since then, the old doctor has dismissed all live-in servants.

  According to the old doctor, the secret room has been idle since its completion, and only moved in and out of some cages two years ago. "His Majesty's Servant" neither told him what the deposit was nor allowed him to inquire. Occasionally, under the cover of a medical visit, the stored items are transported.

   He doesn't know where "His Majesty's Servant" is located. His upline is a Mr. Blackface from [John H. Sherlock Firm]—the same person as Roger Whitehead's upline. But the John H. Sherlock firm was located in the Bay Area—the Old Town—and Winters was temporarily out of reach.

   In Winters' view, the Chamber of Secrets has never been idle. Reliable background, hidden location, the owner is a doctor... the back room of this house is a perfect emergency shelter.

   As for the old doctor's so-called "never told me what was stored", he was just trying to shirk responsibility.

   Winters sighed: "Two decades later, there are still royalists."

   "Actually?" Kaman asked coldly.

  The height of the secret room is lower than the original basement of the house, and it is connected to the basement by a very short passage.

   Stepping out of the corridor, in front of you is a basement about the size of a bedroom. No household utensils can be seen indoors, and a large wooden box is surrounded by several small wooden boxes as tables and chairs.

   A lampstand was lying on the ground, and dozens of dirty playing cards were scattered around the wooden box.

   Except for the passage and a small space for people to rest, the other spaces of the secret room are full of crates.

   Winters surveyed the situation in the secret room, which was not so much a "fox's lair" as it was a "fox's storeroom".

   "Pry them open." Winters was a little disappointed, and folded his arms and ordered: "Look what's going to hide in such a place?"

   The first crate, empty.

   The second crate is also empty.

   The third crate is still empty.

   The guard carrying the box was a little impatient, and his movements became more and more rude.

   The fourth crate was opened, not empty, and contained some sealed glass bottles, carefully separated by wooden strips and straws.

   "Wine?" The guard was puzzled.

   Winters took out one of the glass bottles, removed the sealing paint, removed the cork, sniffed lightly, and turned around abruptly to snuff out the candle in Kaman's hand.

   "What's wrong?" Kaman asked in a stern voice.

   Winters untied the copper buckle of his belt, the dark green light filled the secret room again, and the liquid in the glass bottle became darker and darker.

   Winters tightly corks the glass bottle: "Liquid fire."

  Kaman took some time to digest the information. He stared at the full box of liquid fire and said, "Good luck to the Ciel."

   Winters touched the lampstand and scattered cards on the ground with the toe of his boot, and simulated the airflow when the grenade exploded in his mind: "It's good luck."

   Most of the crates that were opened next were empty, and the non-empty crates were filled with ordnance: liquid fire, grenades, guns, gunpowder... The secret room could no longer be placed, and the wooden crates were moved to the adjacent basement.

   The guard carrying the crate couldn't hide his smile: "The imperial arsenal is cheaper for us! Centurion."

   Winters didn't want an arsenal, he frowned, pacing the basement.

   Another guard walked down the ladder: "Sir, Mr. Schmid and the North City Sheriff have come over and are waiting outside."

  Kaman and the guard carrying the crate looked at Winters.

   "According to the old man's words." Winters tapped the hilt lightly: "The two assassins in the secret room were hiding here in the morning?"

"Yes."

   "Then they didn't flee here to hide after we defeated Esther Manor." Winters gave a high-five: "They are protecting this secret room"

   The guard carrying the crate was puzzled: "Shouldn't the arsenal be guarded?"

"Then why was no one guarded before? Most of the boxes are empty now. Isn't there more ordnance stored in the past?" Winters spoke hurriedly and quickly: "This kind of dark place, do you leave someone to guard it? It makes no difference."

The   guard scratched the back of his head.

   Winters remembered the oil lamp: "Once exposed, the Assassin guarding the arsenal has no time to remove the rest of the ordnance. All he can do is destroy...or die together."

   Hearing the words, the two guards looked at the whole box of liquid fire and gunpowder, and their Adam's apple turned over involuntarily.

"White-headed Roger saw Green Eyes get on the carriage half a street away. If this is just an armory, why did Green Eyes risk coming here?" Winters stared at Carman: "You are Green Eyes, the reason for your adventure. What is it?"

   "I am not a messenger, how do I know what the messenger thinks?"

   "What is a messenger?"

  Kaman stopped talking.

"Think! Think!" Winters grabbed Kaman's shoulders: "Think of those assassins, they don't have anything to prove their identity—including that green eye! We know they're oathbreakers' jackals, but There's no evidence. What does that mean? That's how they behave."

  Kaman clenched his fists and loosened them.

"If I had green eyes, what would I do the night before I destroyed Steel Castle?" Winters asked himself: "I would destroy all documents, kill all witnesses, erase all footprints, and put me in it. All traces of it are wiped away. Let the riots at Steelcastle tonight feel like a spontaneous disaster. Like…”

   Winters said in a low voice: "Like another fire,"

  Kaman understood, but he didn't want to answer.

The guard who carried the box asked hesitantly, "You mean that the Imperials hid their 'traces' here?"

   "No." Winters replied without hesitation: "What can be destroyed must have been destroyed."

He changed the subject again: "But are there some things that 'can't be easily destroyed', 'don't have to be transported away' and 'must be kept'? If I were green eyes, I'd put those things in a safest place tonight. In a safe place, send someone to look after it at all times. If everything goes well, it can be easily retrieved afterwards; if any accident occurs, it will be destroyed immediately.”

   As soon as he finished speaking, Winters had already walked to the secret room: "Move out all the crates and check them one by one!"

   The four of them worked together, which was extremely efficient.

  The rest of the crates were quickly moved into the basement and checked out.

   Nothing.

   The two guards stared at the toe of their boots awkwardly, not daring to speak.

   Winters drew his sword, looked around the walls of the secret room, and suddenly stabbed at the empty crate that was used as a card table.

  The long sword penetrated the crate and went straight into the ground, but it made a sound of gold and iron penetrating the soil.

   "Crack!"

  The crates were torn apart, and sawdust flew everywhere.

   "dig."

   After digging less than an inch, what was buried in the soil was exposed.

   is a fist-sized linen bag with hard stuff. They are neatly stacked on top of each other, lying quietly in the dirt.

   Winters cut one open, and the contents of the bag flowed with a seductive sheen under the firelight.

   is a silver coin.

  Kaman glanced at Winters: "It is indeed something that 'can't be erased casually', 'there is no need to transport it away' and 'it must be kept well'."

   Winters said nothing, pulled out a linen bag, checked, and the next.

  Kaman shook his head and extended a helping hand. The two guards came back to their senses and hurried forward to help.

   There were more than 100 bags of gold and silver in linen cloth pockets, all of which were quickly removed.

  When the last burlap bag was lifted up, a guard shouted in surprise, and took out another square iron box from the bottom of the pit.

   This time, even Kaman's brows were raised, revealing a three-pointed surprise.

  The tin box was locked, and Winters pulled the cover aside, looked at the keyhole, and remembered the small string of keys found on the green-eyed corpse.

   He took out the bunch of keys from his carrying bag and tried them one by one.

   wrong, wrong, wrong, right…

   The fourth key was inserted smoothly into the keyhole, and Winters and Kaman looked at each other and twisted the key steadily.

   As if responding to his call, there was a "click" sound inside the iron box, and the lid of the box popped up lightly.

  Everyone's eyes turned to the inside of the box: a wasteland-style knife, a pair of glasses, a handkerchief, a portrait of a woman, an iron ring with the coat of arms of the scorching sun, a small key engraved with numbers...

   Winters took out the portrait of the woman. In the frame, a quiet and elegant young woman smiled shallowly.

   Winters put the portrait back into the iron box silently, and let out a faint sigh: "It seems to be his personal belongings."

  Kaman took out the iron ring and stared at it for a long time: "This...this is the messenger's token, that guy is really the messenger."

   "Really?" Winters took the iron ring and asked, "What's so special?"

  Kaman shook his head slightly: "I don't know."

   "It doesn't seem difficult to fake it."

   "They have their way of verification."

   While talking, the sound of a ladder came from the basement.

   Because Winters had ordered the basement to be sealed off, a guard immediately asked, "Who?"

   "It's me." Ciel's voice was seven points louder than usual: "Old man Schmid is already waiting outside so anxiously!"

  Winters put away the iron box and picked up two bags of gold coins: "Go!"

   The four of them filed into the corridor, and the small secret room returned to darkness and silence.

   But only a few seconds later, Winters turned back. He rushed into the secret room and frantically rummaged through the mound.

  Kaman came back like an enemy, saw Winters turning the soil, and asked with gnashing teeth: "What are you looking for?"

"Damn green eyes, he's always deceiving, not playing tricks. It's gold and silver, a portrait, and a ring. But he buried something so deep, how can he destroy it!? The green-eyed guy must be the The most important things are placed where they are easiest to destroy."

   "Found it!" Winters stood up abruptly, a dirty card being carefully held in his hand.

   Kaman is unknown.

  Winters carefully checked for a moment, carefully picked up a corner of the card, and as he slowly exerted force, the layer with patterns and numbers on the surface of the card was forcibly peeled off by him, revealing the pale yellow cardboard base.

  Kaman looked at the still empty card bottom: "Still nothing?"

   "It's not nothing." Winters was silent for a moment, exhaled a long breath, his eyes dimmed and said: "It's steganography."

   He heated the bottom of the card beside the candle, and the brownish, irregular letters showed.

  Old Schmid finally waited until "Captain Bern" walked out of the yard with two bags.

   Before the old man could speak, Captain Bern's voice had reached his ears: "How many people have you recruited?"

   The sheriff hurriedly replied: "The free people from the nearest nine blocks have all arrived, including yours, there is almost a large group. There are more people rushing over."

   Old Schmid answered eagerly: "But the old town seems to be getting worse and worse, sir, what should I do next?"

   Winters glanced at the city in the dark. The assassin who escaped from Esther Manor has not yet been found. The imperial spy must have other secret hiding places in the northern city.

   Continue the search, and there may be a chance to uproot the spy network planted by the oathbreakers in Steel Castle.

   But there are more important things at the moment - the direction of the old town, the fire is red in the sky.

He stuffed the two bags of gold coins in his hand into the sheriff's arms: "You guard this place yourself and don't let anyone in or out. Trespassers can be killed on the spot. Two bags of gold, one for the family of the militiaman who was killed just now. The other bag was distributed to the injured militiaman and to those whose property was damaged during the search."

  The sheriff's eyes widened, he nodded first, then raised his hand in salute.

"Come with me." Winters looked at old Schmidt, and he quickly recalled the map of Steel Castle and the main traffic routes: "Go to Constitution Street. I'm going to set up the first line of defense on Constitution Street. Pick two reliable ones. People go to issue orders, and let the free people who arrive later go directly to Constitution Street to assemble."

   "I told my son to go!" Old Schmid hurried to the queue.

   Winters jumped on his horse and rode across the street where armed citizens lined up, roaring like thunder: "Let's stand!"

  The loose, whispering "free men" subconsciously obeyed the order, and the street became chilling and quiet for a while.

   Thanks to year after year of winter military training, even Monta men who have never been in the army can use weapons, march in formation and obey orders.

   Winters gave some praise in his heart. It is worthy of being a recruiting ground for the imperial family. In terms of military literacy per capita, it is not known how much higher than the new land.

"I'm Captain Ike Berne, Solingen's highest military commander has appointed me to take over the defense of the North City, and the North City will be under curfew immediately." Winters' cold and powerful voice echoed on the long street: "From now on, you will be I command; from now on, you are subject to military law; from now on, I give orders, and you obey. In exchange, I will defend your property! Defend your family! Defend your city!"

   Winters didn't give the militia time to question, and waved his hand directly: "All - turn right!"

   "Target - Constitution Avenue!"

   "There will be our first line of defense!

   "Prepare - go forward!"

   After a brief lag and some minor confusion, the militia's formation slowly began to move. And once the queue moves, people can't help thinking, only obedience.

  Winters then galloped toward the crossroads, and at his request, the militiamen with horses were grouped into a single team.

   Beicheng District is the most affluent district of Steel Castle, and there are not a few people who can ride horses and can afford them.

  Winters glanced over, and the militiamen on horseback approached a squadron, stretching all the way to the next intersection.

   He immediately called out a small group of mounted militiamen and handed them over to the sheriff to enforce a curfew to prevent the imperial assassins from catching fish in the murky waters behind.

   After arranging things in the front and rear, he called the remaining hundreds of "cavalry" to one place.

   "You will be commanded by me personally." Winters rarely smiled tonight: "It doesn't matter if you can't fight on horses, just follow me."

   Having said that, Winters pulled the reins and Chang Feng raised his front hooves high, neighing excitedly.

   "Gentlemen, there is another city waiting for you to defend! Go!"

   [Work hard to repay debts! ]

   [Thank you for your collection, reading, subscription, recommendation ticket, monthly ticket, reward and comment, thank you all]

   (end of this chapter)

Chapter end