Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Winters, though wishing to allow the major to rest, could only comply with his will, answering each question with statements as concise as possible.

The two men engaged in conversation through the use of pens, repeating the process of query and response.

As more intelligence was gathered, the major's spirit seemed to improve. He even drank another glass of red wine midway.

After understanding the information Winters and the other warrant officers knew, the major closed his eyes, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the paper as the warrant officers exchanged puzzled glances, watching the major seemingly lost in thought.

The major appeared to be dozing off, and after a short while, he finally reopened his eyes.

This time, his eyes regained their former brilliance. He wrote swiftly on the paper: "It seems we're suffering from an undeserved disaster."

The major was indeed correct, Winters wrote: "Yes, those assassins were clearly targeting those travelers. We were just implicated. Now that customs can't find the assassin, they're not letting us leave, probably hoping to pin the blame on us."

A derisive snort came from the major's nose. He shook his head indifferently and wrote: "Tell everyone to relax; this matter doesn't concern us, customs can't do anything to us. Has the military department been notified yet?"

Winters nodded and wrote: "One of the conditions for our 'cooperation with the investigation' is that we must inform the Army Department."

Despite his pale face, Major Moritz seemed quite relaxed. He wrote with a smile: "Then by tomorrow at the latest, customs will have to let us go. If those high-ranking officials in the military department take it to heart, we might be going home tonight."

Major Moritz's confidence inspired the warrant officers, igniting a flame of hope in their hearts. Hope was the most precious thing; with it, even being trapped here wouldn't be too unbearable.

The tip of the major's pen moved subtly: "Let everyone rest, don't crowd around me, I'm fine. Just eat and drink whatever you like, and wait to go home."

Receiving the word, the warrant officers dispersed and sat back down in various parts of the cell, finding ways to pass the time.

Winters was about to help the major lie down on the straw bed to rest when he suddenly recalled something, an intelligence that might be very important, a piece of information he wasn't sure if he should share with his comrades.

He scanned the room, noting that the others' attentions were elsewhere, even Bard and Andre had returned to their luggage. He then picked up the quill again, dipped it in ink, pulled out a new sheet of paper, and wrote quietly to the major: "You're an army spellcaster, right?"

Major Moritz, puzzled, nodded.

Winters continued to write: "The assassin shot at you, and if I'm not mistaken, you used a Deflection Spell to turn the bullet away, right?"

The major nodded again.

Winters went on: "Deflection Spell is a very difficult spell, right?"

Clear-minded, the major seemed to have a slight premonition of what Winters was implying. He pursed his lips and nodded.

Winters glanced around once more, ensuring that only he and the major could see the paper in his hands. After hesitating repeatedly, he finally resolved to write: "Among those four travelers, there's also a spellcaster."

The major's brows knotted, he lifted his chin slightly, signaling Winters to continue writing.

Winters wrote quickly, his handwriting becoming sloppy: "If I'm not mistaken, one of the guards among the travelers used a Deflection Spell at the dock. The musket was fired at close range, yet the bullets hit the ground."

The major's expression turned grave; his eyes fixated on Winters. Winters read from those eyes the question the major wanted to ask: "Are you certain?"

With a forthright and determined nod, Winters confirmed; he had seen with his own eyes how the assassin's musket, aimed directly at the guard, inexplicably struck the stone slabs of the dock. His penmanship grew resolute: "I am certain of what I saw. Others must have seen it too, but I dare not confirm it with them."

Major Moritz exhaled heavily, clearly convinced by Winters's expression and attitude. He believed Winters was not lying. The major ground his teeth for a moment and deftly tore off the last two paragraphs Winters had written, ripping them into small pieces and swallowing them, chasing them down with a gulp of wine.

Winters stared dumbfounded as the major "destroyed the evidence," momentarily stunned.

Having set down his wine glass, Major Moritz wrote quickly on the paper: "Do not speak of this to anyone, and let no one from customs know. We will discuss this matter after leaving this place."

The major paused, then added a phrase: "A secret discussion."

Winters nodded in understanding. In the Senas Alliance, only the army possessed magicians; the spellcaster training system was almost entirely the army's exclusive domain. If customs found out that one of the parties in the dock confrontation was a spellcaster, they would never let it go easily.

Smiling, the major penned another sentence: "Just in case, you should eat the rest of the paper as well."

————I am the line that obliterates all traces————

Bard stared in surprise as Winters, having returned from the major's side, was now gulping down the major's wine. His eyes widened, and he asked Winters, "I thought you didn't drink?"

Warrant Officer Montaigne belched lengthily, and replied irritably: "I choked."

"What does choking have to do with drinking wine?" Bard was confused.

"To wash it down."

"Wouldn't water suffice?"

"This wine eases my heart."

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