Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"We're hardly being catered to," Winters said with a wry smile. "We've all been thrown into cells, though at least the conditions are clean. However, there's one severely injured person who I think would be better off if we could get him out for proper care."

"Severely injured? Is it a cadet officer?"

"No, it's Major Moritz."

"Moritz van Nassau?" Antonio's eyebrows shot up, and a puzzled expression appeared on his face, clearly interested by the name Moritz.

"I don't know the Major's full name," Winters shook his head. In the few short days they'd interacted, he only knew the Major as Moritz and was unaware of any other parts of his full name.

"Hmm," Antonio stroked his chin with a tentative voice, "In the army, I've only heard of one person named Moritz, last year's third place in the army sports meeting swordsmanship event. They said he's also a spellcaster, is that him?"

Upon hearing his uncle's description, Winters nodded, "A master of swordsmanship and a spellcaster, then we must be speaking of the same person."

"A master of swordsmanship and a spellcaster," Antonio mused with surprise, "he alone could probably handle a full company of a hundred men. Just how many enemies did you encounter to injure such a character so severely?"

"The Major's main injury was from nearly drowning; he also burst his eardrums due to the impact of his own spells, which led to temporary deafness." Winters explained the cause of the Major's injuries as straightforwardly as he could: "Additionally…"

"Hold on a moment." Antonio stopped Winters and pulled out a small notebook from his pocket, then fetched ink and a quill pen from a cabinet in the corner of the room.

Once he was ready to take notes, Antonio seriously said to his nephew, "That fool Layton sent back only bits and pieces of information, and the palace has received contradictory reports. Rumors are flying everywhere. Tell me exactly what happened at the harbor this afternoon from start to finish."

Winters started from the moment their ship docked, recounting in detail to his uncle about the four passengers, the assassins, and the explosion. To avoid detracting from the main issue, he briefly mentioned the encounter with the pirates, and to prevent eavesdropping, he did not disclose the fact that among the four passengers was a spellcaster. After all, they were in the territory of the customs; who knew if there were pipes being used for clandestine listening?

Antonio listened intently to Winters' account of his experiences with a grave face, his pupils involuntarily shrinking when he heard his nephew was nearly killed. But he remained silent throughout, nodding occasionally and jotting down key points on paper.

"That's it," Winters concluded his recount of the assassination and explosion at the dock. He really wanted to speak to his uncle about the skirmish at sea and the great fire in Guidao City. He had many questions and hoped for his uncle's wise counsel, but clearly, this was not the time.

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Antonio pondered Winters' story in his mind, coming to a conclusion.

He rubbed his temples and said, "Then, this has absolutely nothing to do with the army! Our cadet officers happened to be involved only because they acted out of a sense of justice."

"Exactly!" Winters slapped the desk, but then he remembered the passenger who could use the Deflection Spell, quietly thinking to himself that it might have some connection to the army, but definitely none to the cadet officers.

"What on earth is customs thinking? Instead of going after the assassins, they locked you all up," Antonio put away his notebook, "Don't worry, if it's unrelated to us, then the customs can't expect to pin this mess on the army's head."

Winters nodded emphatically, bolstered by his uncle's stance.

"Tell your peers not to worry; eat and drink as they usually would. Let's see how long customs intends to keep you under house arrest," Antonio, full of confidence, imparted his strategy to Winters: "You are not criminals. Demand whatever you need, and if customs dares to withhold it, smash through this place. They're just a few guards; can't you handle them?"

Winters was about to remind his uncle that walls have ears, but then it dawned on him that perhaps his uncle was deliberately using this opportunity to apply pressure to customs. He thus played along vigorously, agreeing with a series of "Yes."

However, he was still worried about Major Moritz and asked in a low voice, "What about Major Moritz? He would be best cared for in a tranquil place."

Antonio thought for a moment and then answered slowly, "Moritz cannot leave just yet. The Throne won't ask for him proactively; I will have customs arrange for a doctor to treat Moritz."

He then added with a smile, "Rest assured, it's customs who should be praying for Major Moritz's health now, praying that he doesn't die in their cells. If something happens to Moritz, the customs headquarters will get to see what the army's cannons look like."

Winters nodded vigorously once more; whether anyone from customs was eavesdropping or not, Antonio's threat was no idle one.

The Sea Blue Republic's various power institutions all have strong independence.

To be precise, it isn't that the government oversees various departments of power, but rather that these departments of power compose the government of the Sea Blue Republic.

Therefore, it's not uncommon for these powerful institutions to engage in armed clashes over irreconcilable differences.

While to date there hasn't been any use of firearms, it's not unimaginable for the army, if pushed too far, to wheel out their cannons and give their brethren a taste of "grapeshot's breezy touch."

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