Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 697 697 39 Church_2

?Chapter 697: Chapter 39 Church_2 Chapter 697: Chapter 39 Church_2 “It’s not because I am a Spellcaster,” Winters said, putting his hand on Caman’s shoulder, “it’s because we are friends that you can’t deal with me.”

Caman violently shook off Winters’s arm: “I am not your friend!”

“But I am your friend!” Winters tried to muster his most sincere smile.

“What on earth do you want?!” Caman almost snapped.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Speak!”

“I intend to pardon most of the prisoners in the labor camp,” Winters replied seriously, “Before I announce the pardon, I wanted them to hear a sermon once, to give them some religious admonition, to prevent them from doing evil again in the future.”

“Is that all?” Caman felt like he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

“That’s all.”

“Are you sure that’s all?”

“Truly, that’s all,” Winters answered truthfully: “There’s absolutely no second purpose in bringing the prisoners here.”

Caman sneered and turned around, half in doubt, returning to the altar.

After presiding over the earlier part of the ceremony, it was finally time for the sermon. Caman sighed, set aside the prepared speech, and began to tell the congregation about “The Calling of Saint Matthew.”

“[I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance]…” In light of today’s unforeseen events, Caman wove together teachings on rebirth, penitence, and salvation.

The green vestments he wore also happened to symbolize “hope and rebirth.”

Winters listened and observed carefully. But he was not listening to the content; he was listening to the voice. He wasn’t observing the altar, but Caman’s demeanor.

The sound retention in the four-walled tent was very poor, and the prisoners were seated outside the tent, stretching out for dozens of meters.

Caman had to preach loudly to ensure the followers at the back could hear clearly.

Caman’s voice was indeed sonorous, clear, sacred, and solemn, even the prisoners seated at the very end were listening attentively.

However, as an experienced speaker, Winters was certain that such a level of vocal strength could not be achieved without straining, at least not without turning red-faced, hoarse, and shouting until exhausted.

Therefore, Winters deduced that Caman must be using Divine Arts similar to an [Amplifying Spell] to preach; or conversely, Divine Arts could also achieve the effect of an [Amplifying Spell].

Winters even felt the urge to jot down this discovery on the spot and had to make a great effort to resist reaching for his notebook.

And so, the ceremony proceeded smoothly.

When it was time for the Eucharist, Winters also walked to the altar with a smile, not avoiding it deliberately as he had in the past.

Winters now thought more thoroughly—there was no need to willfully display the attitude of a nonbeliever; doing so was actually beneath him. He would eat and drink as needed, considering the host nothing more than a free cracker.

But when Caman saw Winters approaching to receive communion, he intentionally selected an unconsecrated cracker for Winters and did not offer “the blood of Christ” to him. Dismissively, he sent Winters away, which Winters felt was quite unfair.

After the ceremony, Winters had the prisoners lineup in formation on the open ground, with the followers of Wolf Town watching from not far away.

The Paratu People have a tradition of enslaving prisoners of war—slavery itself should hardly be considered a tradition, as records of ancient nations all include slavery. It’s just that, while others gradually abandoned slavery, the Paratu People carried it on.

From a practical standpoint, it is somewhat understandable that the Paratu would enslave Herders. They needed to weaken the Herder tribes without incorporating them as “savages within,” so merely killing the men was not meaningful; women and children were the key.

But the Paratu were equally relentless on their own kind. In past civil brawls among Paratu nobles, prisoners of war without the means for ransom ended up either as serfs or sold overseas. Before the wool textile industry thrived, slaves were Paratu’s main export.

So even though Winters’s prisoners were reluctant, to a certain extent, they accepted their forced labor fate—after all, not being sold overseas meant their situation wasn’t too dire.

Seeing that all the prisoners who were about to be pardoned had arrived, Winters stood up on the makeshift platform of carts and asked loudly, “Do you recognize me?”

His gaze swept across the crowd. The prisoners lowered their heads, none daring to meet his gaze or answer.

Who wouldn’t recognize the Blood Wolf? It was the Blood Wolf who captured them and brought them here.

“Then do you know why I treat you as if you were slaves?”

Still, no one dared to speak.

Winters paused for a moment, then answered for the prisoners, “Because you lost the battle, right?”

This hit home for most of the prisoners, as the majority of them were members of the later ambushed grain conscription teams. The early ambushed teams, after being screened, mostly had been released.

“Completely wrong! You labor because you deserve to starve if you don’t work! You stand here, not because you lost a battle!” Winters rebuked loudly: “Lift your heads, look at me! You stand here because you once forcefully took the common people’s grain! You made it impossible for them to survive! If we didn’t deal with you, only you would live, while everyone else would starve to death!”

The expressions of the majority of the prisoners were blank and confused.

How many could understand this rationale? Winters didn’t know, perhaps the logic of “enslaved for losing battles” was easier to accept.

Winters sighed inwardly. Bunting had escaped with his life today and continued to be jailed in Bard’s custody. Bard was utterly opposed to a public trial for Bunting, arguing that as long as Winters still wore the trappings of the garrison, he had no legitimate reason to judge the “dutiful and responsible Mayor Bunting.”