Chapter 1416: Chapter 3: Pacifying the Furious Spirit (Part 3)

“How’s the Centurion? How’s Uncle Gerard? How’s Mrs. Mitchell? What about Anglu? And Vashka?” Bell held Pierre’s hand as he walked into the tent, asking non-stop, “And what about the other friends? Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone’s fine, just fine.” Pierre replied with a smile, giving the young Hunter a playful punch, “I saw the wolf you brought back, it’s truly an impressive catch!”

Bell’s face showed no pride or satisfaction; he made an effort to smile in response.

“Are you hungry or thirsty? I’ll go get some cheese crumbs and a bit of milk wine.” Bell pulled Pierre to sit on the carpet, set up a small table, vigorously wiped it with his sleeve, then turned to go out to fetch food and drink to entertain Pierre.

“Alright, alright! I’m not thirsty, nor hungry. Rest a bit, come sit with me for a while, alright?” Pierre held onto the young Hunter’s sleeve, not allowing him to leave, and curiously asked:

“I heard from others that you searched for them alone for more than half a month? To have you searching for half a month, it must be quite rare. Why didn’t you call others to help?”

“I did. I called Big White and Little White.”

“Who are Big White and Little White?” Pierre squinted his eyes slightly, after some recollection, asked, “Are those the ones who rode back with you? Your guards?”

“My guards?” Bell waved his hands repeatedly, “No, no, no, those two… uh… actually, those two are the Centurion’s…”

Bell suddenly found it difficult to find accurate translations for certain words from the Herde Language in the common tongue. He also found it challenging to explain the ethics and rules of Herde society to his friend in a few sentences.

“To be accurate,” Bell racked his brains, wanting as much as possible not to let his friend misunderstand, but the more he tried to explain clearly, the more potential misunderstandings there seemed to be, “those two are the Centurion’s ‘slaves’, but not the kind that make fires, set up tents, or milk sheep; they’re combat slaves… yet if the Centurion needs them to make fires or set up tents, they would also do it…”

As Bell spoke, he stole glances at his friend’s eyes.

Pierre listened intently, nodding now and then. However, deep down, Bell felt that Pierre understood nothing.

“Forget it.” Bell sighed helplessly, “Just consider them as my subordinates.”

“No way.” Pierre wrapped an arm around his companion’s shoulder, “I want to hear more about the Hed Tribes from you. By the way, what about the others? Why didn’t you call them along?”

Bell knew that when his friend mentioned the “others,” he was not referring to everyone in the camp who had two eyes, one mouth, and could cry and laugh, but specifically to the cavalry from Iron Peak County assigned to Bell.

“They went to escort the convoy that trades with the Red River Tribe,” the young Hunter counted with his fingers, “They should be on their way back now.”

“Aren’t there more Herders? I’ve seen quite a few men in the camp,” Pierre asked with interest, “Why not let them help you search for wolves? What, they’re being disobedient?”

Though his friend still had deep misunderstandings about the Wenduo Tribe, Bell was grateful but also quite surprised that he didn’t blurt out the term “Herd Barbarians.”

The young Hunter jabbered on in explanation, while also venting.

Only at times like this, only before friends and comrades, was he not the sacred “Beast Spirit Speaker,” not the leader whose words were law. After all, if age were calculated strictly, he was actually younger than Big White and not much older than Little White.

“Many men in this camp have already gone with the convoy, the remaining ones need to watch over the herd and guard against enemies. Right now, both shearing and washing wool are in season, so there’s a need for manpower everywhere. And if everyone were called along to search, then…” Bell paused, “It wouldn’t just be the two big wolves, but also the two smaller ones and the cubs in the woods that have to die together.”

Pierre chuckled speechlessly and crossed his arms, “When did you start sympathizing with wolves?”

“[Herde Language] If unnecessary, do not increase killing.” Bell suddenly muttered in Herde Language, then shook his head, “No need.”

Pierre couldn’t understand what the young Hunter was saying; he could only guess it was a prayer or scripture, so he laughed heartily and patted the young Hunter’s back, “Look at you, your manner of speaking is already quite like those Herde Shamans, no wasted trip to the Great Wilderness.”

Bell gave a vague smile.

Pierre was very aware of the nuances the young Hunter inadvertently revealed while speaking, so he pursued the topic: “You mentioned ‘guard against enemies,’ are there still enemies now? Who are the enemies? The Terdon Tribe? Are they still not acting properly?”

“No, not the Terdon Tribe,” Bell was unsure how to explain again, “Oh well, on the prairie, you stealing from me and I stealing from you is commonplace; if you insist, anyone could be an enemy. Tie Chi cannot restrain every descendant, so we must always stay vigilant…”

Pierre listened, nodding thoughtfully.

Realizing he might again be causing misunderstanding, Bell quickly explained, “Actually, this camp is already very safe—it’s close to the Big Horn River, far from other tribe territories, and there are satellite families and collectively submitted small tribes around. In summary, nothing should happen…”

Saying this, Bell realized he might be “over-correcting” himself, so he added, “However, one can never be too careful, because… this is the Great Wilderness, after all.”

Pierre focused intensely on digesting the young Hunter’s words and unintentionally fell into deep thought. When he came back to his senses, the tent had already been silent for some time.

Facing the young Hunter’s inquisitive gaze, Pierre rubbed his face, trying to alleviate the awkwardness. He laughed, “Listening to you going on and on, it’s clear none can go with you; you can only go alone—then at least bring the little one along.”

Not mentioning the little one was fine, but once he did, Bell’s head felt as if it was about to split.

“Oh, enough, the little one… Oh, if the little one could move around a bit more, perhaps… there wouldn’t even be a need to kill those two big wolves… Little one, oh.”

Pierre uttered an “um,” puzzled, “What’s wrong with the little one?”

“Lazy.”

“There’s no such thing as a cat that’s not lazy.”

Bell leaned heavily back and said wistfully, “Then you haven’t seen what our little guy has become now.”

“If you put it that way,” Pierre deliberately raised his voice, “then I must go have a look.”

“Hmph, I’ll take you tomorrow, but don’t be surprised when we get there.”

“Why wait for tomorrow? Let’s go now.”

Bell jumped up, “Alright, let’s go now.”

“Let’s go.” Pierre also jumped up.

The two bantered back and forth, but neither took a step toward the door.

After exchanging glances for a moment, both started laughing.

“Alright, let’s go tomorrow then.” Bell dragged over a rolled-up blanket, piled it up as a cushion, and lay down while rubbing his lower back, “Squatting all night for wolves has exhausted me. The last thing I want to see now is the little guy.”

“Sure.” Pierre laughed and sat back down on the floor, “We’ll go tomorrow then.”

“Oh! Right!” Bell suddenly sat up and looked at Pierre, “I haven’t asked why you came, surely you didn’t just come to see me?”

Upon hearing the question, Pierre put away his smile, “That’s correct, I came with an official mandate this time.”

Bell moved his shoulders, sat cross-legged, resting his hands on his knees to sit upright, “Alright, what’s the Centurion’s command?”

“The Centurion does have a command.” Pierre took out a letter of appointment from his garment, “But it’s not for you, it’s for me.”

With that, Pierre handed the letter of appointment to the young hunter.

Bell took the letter with curiosity, quickly scanned it under the light coming through the tent’s skylight.

He then carefully read it through a second time.

Afterwards, he fell into silence.

Pierre didn’t interrupt the young hunter but sat quietly by his side, waiting.

“Though I’ve never heard of this ‘Newly Reclaimed Outlands’,” Bell unconsciously used his left thumb’s nail to scrape his right thumbnail, “I guess it refers to the ‘no man’s land’ agreed upon by the Paratu and Herd people in the past, which is where we are now.”

“That’s right.” Pierre nodded, “His Excellency has decided to bring the ‘Newly Reclaimed Outlands’ under his jurisdiction. From now on, there will be no more ‘no man’s land’, no more ‘buffer zones’, only Newly Reclaimed Outlands… Province.”

Bell wasn’t surprised that the Centurion wanted to officially bring this land under his authority.

In fact, he’s been looking forward to this day.

What surprised Bell was the “status” of the “Newly Reclaimed Outlands.”

“Province?” Bell widened his eyes, “Isn’t that on equal footing with the Newly Reclaimed Land?”

“A province is a bit big, but a ‘county’ is too small. His Excellency personally decided on ‘province’. But, uh… this matter actually hasn’t been formally settled yet; it has to go through the ‘National Assembly’ process.” Pierre paused, firmly said, “However, since His Excellency wants the Newly Reclaimed Outlands to be a ‘province’, then it will certainly become a province.”

“Wait, what’s the National Assembly?” Just as Pierre initially felt when listening to Bell, Bell was increasingly confused while hearing Pierre’s explanation.

“Well, this.” Pierre found it difficult to explain the National Assembly briefly, “It’s a long story; I’ll tell you slowly later. The affairs of the National Assembly are quite interesting; it’s a pity you weren’t there to witness… Anyway, now we’re all nominally loyal to the National Assembly.”

“We?” Bell raised an eyebrow, “Who?”

“The Centurion, me, everyone.” Pierre gave the young hunter a meaningful look, “That definitely includes you, and others as well.”

Bell smiled wryly and spread his hands, continuing to ask, “And what’s a Military Governor?”

“It’s a coined term.” Pierre cleared his throat lightly, “Originally, there was only a ‘Military Governor’, but His Excellency thought the term lacked civil governance, so he simply merged ‘Military Governor’ with the Ancient Empire’s official title ‘envoy’ to create ‘Military Governor’.”

Bell couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like something the Centurion would do.”

Pierre smiled knowingly too, “Indeed.”

“However, I have to remind you if you want to be this Military Governor…” Bell tossed the letter of appointment between the two of them, dropped his smile, and solemnly said, “You can’t rely on this piece of paper.”