Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Experience tales at empire

The visitor was wearing a large hat and kept their head low as they entered the stables where the officers tethered their horses. Along the way, they inquired about the name Winters Montagne and were led to Winters's side.

Winters didn't recognize the face, but the visitor was able to accurately state his surname.

"Are you Mr. Montagne?"

"Do I know you?" Winters became alert.

"I'm a friend of Benvenuto; I have a verbal message for him from me."

Hearing the name Benvenuto, Winters hurriedly led the visitor away from the stables to a secluded area.

According to the cripple, a group of Montans were turning the place upside down looking for Benwei, but this friend had just announced Benwei's name in front of others.

"What message? Go ahead," Winters couldn't help but remind the other, "Someone is looking for your friend, so don't mention his name casually. If the wrong person hears that name, they could follow you and find him."

"No way, the Montans can't be that formidable. I've delivered many messages and never made a mistake," said Benvenuto's messenger, who, believing in his own vast experience, was quite dismissive of Winters's caution.

Seeing the messenger's unconcerned smile, Winters roared inwardly, "The Vaughan People have no sense of confidentiality at all!"

Countless military operations in history had successfully deceived the enemy's spies and scouts, only to be ultimately undone due to the intelligence leaks from shepherds and woodcutters.

One should never underestimate the intelligence capabilities of the public—this was an important lesson Winters had learned in his military history classes.

But discussing this with the messenger seemed pointless, so Winters went straight to the point, "What message did he send me?"

"Benwei says he's doing well, very safe, and you shouldn't worry about him. He'll find you after the storm passes."

"Where is he staying now?" Winters's mind raced.

Without a second thought, the messenger replied, "He's staying at my place."

...

Two hours later, on the edge of a small village in the suburbs, Benvenuto was splitting firewood in a small courtyard.

His shirt was hung aside, his upper body bare and darkened by the sun from his years of working on the docks. He was lean but lacked the thick muscular build, yet when he wielded the axe, the strength contained within his sinewy body became apparent.

Benvenuto was responsible for wielding the axe, chopping the wood with each powerful swing. Another young boy was tasked with setting the sawn logs on the block. The two had a clear division of labor and worked seamlessly together, stacking the split firewood neatly under the eaves into a wall.

"Benvenuto, look who I've brought you," the courtyard's gate creaked open to reveal the happy voice of the property's owner.

Following the messenger, Winters entered, leading his horse.

"What brings you here?" Benvenuto was indescribably surprised.

Winters strode over and gave him a bear hug, "It's a long story."

The enthusiastic owner who was also Benvenuto's messenger and the little yard's owner welcomed Winters warmly, instructing his wife to prepare food and drink. Although the Vaughan People were not adept at secretive plans, they were generous, hospitable, and loyal to family and friends.

Most of the villagers had been Vaughan People who had fled to Vineta to escape the war more than twenty years ago, so it was no wonder that Benvenuto was hiding here.

"Is it just you here?" Winters asked. The small courtyard didn't seem large enough to house Benvenuto's entire family.

"I live here with my brother," Benvenuto said flatly as he moved a stool for Winters, "We've sent the elders to relatives far away."

The two sat under the shade of a tree in the corner of the courtyard. The owner kindly took his son inside the house to give them privacy, leaving only Winters and Benvenuto in the yard.

The rain had just stopped last night, and as the sun came out, the accumulated water slowly evaporated, making outside as humid as a steamer. Under the mottled tree shade, Benvenuto held a large jar and poured water for Winters to drink.

"Actually, you're not safe here at all. This friend is a good person but also an awful messenger. He's too careless, and your enemies could easily track you down following his leads," Winters said, getting straight to the point.

There was no time for small talk as Winters, from a military officer's perspective, reviewed the defense arrangements of the small courtyard, "The walls of this courtyard are too low, plus it's on the edge of the village, and you don't even have a dog. What will you and your brother do if someone sneaks in at night?"

Benvenuto handed Winters the cup of water, "It's alright. The Vaughan People in the village are all connected to my family. If outsiders show up in the village, I'll be informed immediately. With their protection, I'm safe. Don't worry."

"The safer you think you are, the more dangerous it actually becomes," Winters said, deeply concerned, fearing that Benvenuto might be lulled into a false sense of security, "This courtyard isn't inside the village; it's on the edge. If I were leading a raid, we could be in and out before the villagers could even react."

Benvenuto laughed, "Don't overestimate those Montans. Whether Montans or Paratu People, they're just like us Vaughan People, a bunch of dockworkers with a bit of strength, that's all."

"The more you think like that, the more danger you're in," Winters said worriedly.

"Alright, alright, I'll switch to a house further inside the village with my brother," Benvenuto seemed unconcerned.

Winters sighed, knowing that if the person involved wasn't worried, there was little point in others getting worked up. However, moving to a different house would at least be safer. He added, "It'd be best to change your location every day to keep others from pinpointing where you are."