Chapter 35: Recruitment Order 

Witnessing everything that had just happened, Mapel couldn’t help but swallow hard.

What a terrifying weapon! The power of that explosion rivaled a large-scale spell cast by ten full-powered mages.

Just the thought that she was the first person besides Owen to handle such explosives filled Mapel with deep pride.

Likewise, the invited Viscount Jarvis also realized how fearsome this weapon was—it could very well revolutionize the nature of warfare.

In past battles, knights and mages were considered trump cards on both sides. But in the face of explosives, such trump cards seemed laughably weak.

Especially since ordinary people could use them as well, this would undoubtedly diminish the status of knights and mages significantly.

Thinking this, Viscount Jarvis looked at Owen with completely new eyes, murmuring to himself,

“So that’s why you chose to stay in Bianshu? Interesting.”

He smiled faintly and thought to himself, Belric Eisen, your son is far more remarkable than I imagined.

At the edge of the crowd, Theresa was still stunned by the display of the explosive’s power. It took her a long while to recover.

With this, there was no longer any need to abandon Border Town. What a relief! Thank you, Lord Owen!

She was truly, from the bottom of her heart, happy about Owen’s decision to stay. After all, Biaanshu Town held many fond memories for her.

She then turned to the elderly man beside her, dressed in the formal robes of a high-ranking cleric.

“Bishop Flynn, what do you think?”

The bishop did not reply to Theresa, but instead turned to the other clergy present and said,

“Let’s return. We do not need to receive food rations from the lord. This winter, we must prepare ourselves in every way and fully support Lord Eisen in resisting the undead monsters. As long as there are people still in Bianshu Town, we cannot abandon them and flee.”

Bishop Flynn’s words made it clear—he was ready to live or die with Border Town.

The shocking explosion had caused quite a stir among the gathered townsfolk, and it took a long while for the chaos to settle.

At that moment, Owen once again stepped onto the platform, his face carrying a stronger and more confident expression than ever before.

Seeing their lord back on stage, the crowd erupted into another wave of cheers. There was no doubt—today’s explosive demonstration had greatly boosted everyone’s morale.

Raising his hand to quiet the crowd, Owen began to speak slowly:

“How about that? This is the powerful weapon we now possess—one that anyone can use. And there’s plenty more of these explosives stored in the warehouses of Bianshu Town, enough to help us fend off the undead and make it through this winter safely!”

Here, he slightly exaggerated the number of explosives to ease the townspeople’s fears and raise their morale.

In truth, the biggest issue was the limited amount of saltpeter. Due to the primitive refining methods of this era and the short time they’d had to stockpile, if all of it were turned into explosives, it would quickly be used up.

Therefore, to maximize the impact of black powder, it had to be used alongside muskets and crossbows.

“Now answer me, my people—do you want to flee to the slums of Dongsheng Fortress, where you’ll starve and freeze? Or would you rather stand with me, resist the undead, protect your families and children, and defend your homeland? I hereby solemnly promise: anyone who joins the fight on the northern city wall— At the end of winter, those who fight will receive a reward of 20 silver coins. For those who sacrifice their lives for Bianshu Town, their families will be guaranteed food and shelter, as well as compensated with 4 gold coins!”

“We are willing to fight for the Lord! For Bianshu Town!”

The crowd erupted in enthusiastic chants, all expressing their readiness to defend their homeland. The atmosphere was electric.

Next, Owen took the opportunity to announce food distribution. Clive immediately instructed his men to bring out several large barrels of cooked wheat porridge, along with big trays of sliced bread. If that wasn’t enough, more would be fetched from the castle.

As lunch arrived, the scene quickly became chaotic. To maintain order, Clive directed his apprentices and a few knights to keep things under control. A few troublemakers were pulled out from the crowd.

With the speech concluded, Irwin stepped down from the platform and returned directly to the castle with several of his knight attendants.

To be honest, he didn’t expect the speech to convince everyone to stay. The power of the explosives was certainly impressive, but trust in the Holy Knights had been built up over a long time—it couldn’t be replaced by gunpowder overnight.

As long as more than half the people chose to stay, Owen was confident he could hold the northern wall.

…

The next morning, Owen summoned Clive and Viscount Jarvis to his study.

Seated at his desk, he looked up at the two men standing before him and first asked Clive,

“Clive, after yesterday’s speech and demonstration, what are your thoughts?”

“It was truly astonishing. I still haven’t recovered from the impact of it all.” 

Clive replied honestly.

“And you…”

Before Owen could finish, Clive jumped in,

“My Lord Marquis, I’m willing to stay and do my part for Bianshu Town.”

Hearing this answer, Owen smiled with satisfaction. It seemed the explosive demonstration had been very effective.

“Excellent, Clive. Go to the square shortly and issue a recruitment order for militia. Set the monthly pay at 8 silver coins. After all, fighting undead monsters is a dangerous job.”

“This soon?” 

Clive asked in surprise. 

“Marquis, the usual custom is to summon townsfolk for battle only temporarily.”

“It’s not too early—we still need time to gather and train them. I actually think we’re already running late.” 

“Marquis Eisen is right.” 

Viscount Jarvis chimed in with agreement. 

“A force sent into battle without training is nothing but a mob. They’d fall apart at the first sight of undead monsters.”

Indeed, this man had long experience fighting undead at the northern wall—he clearly understood what was at stake, unlike most nobles.

“But don’t we have explosives?” 

Clive countered, clinging to that one powerful advantage.

So that’s what he was relying on—Owen shook his head helplessly and had to explain.

“Clive, Viscount Jarvis—there’s something I must make clear. We don’t have a large supply of explosives. They can only be used at critical moments. For the most part, we’ll still have to fight the undead with weapons from the walls.”

“What?!” 

Clive looked completely stunned.

He suddenly regretted his decision—feeling like he had boarded a pirate ship and there was no getting off.

In contrast, Viscount Jarvis remained perfectly composed, as if he had known this all along.

“You’re taking this rather well, Viscount.” 

Owen said, giving him an admiring glance.

To which Viscount Jarvis responded.

“I suspected it yesterday. With how powerful those explosives are, I figured they couldn’t be in abundant supply. I just guessed right.”

At this point, Clive had no choice but to steel himself and accept the task—after all, he had already pledged to stay.

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