"Are you drunk?" Bard couldn't help but laugh and cry at these bizarre responses. He looked up at the other end of the cell and asked, "How is Major Moritz?"
"Hmph, he's just fine," Winters said with a tinge of annoyance. "He's gone back to sleep."
Bard was even more confused, "What's wrong with you? You seem to have suddenly taken a strong dislike to the Major."
Next to Bard, Andre slept soundly with his hat covering his face.
"Stretching it." Winters pushed Bard and Andre aside and heroically lay down on the ground: "Move your butt over and make so room for too, I'm going to sleep for a bit as well."
With the fullness from the plant fibers and the slight intoxication from the alcohol, Winters quickly entered a state between sleep and consciousness; he could still perceive the sounds around him, but his consciousness was almost in chaos, and soon he would fall into a deep sleep.
At this critical mont, he heard soone shouting, "Which one is Winters Montagne? Who is Mr. Winters Montagne?"
Winters jolted awake when he heard his na being called. He sat up straight, slapped his head, and spent a few seconds trying to beco fully alert.
Once his brain started working again, Winters responded with a grumpy morning voice, "I'm Montagne, what is it?"
"Please co out for a mont." The door of the cell creaked open, and the head of the cell, in a polite tone, said, "Soone wants to see you alone."
At these words, Winters' heart skipped a beat, then raced.
His mind raced with thoughts, "They want to interrogate alone? Did the customs people see what I just wrote? Has there been an informant? Are the customs really that sinister? Should I wake up the Major first?"
His mind teed with frantic speculations, but on the surface, Winters still managed to appear calm. Like soone who had just awoken, he lazily asked, "Who wants to see ? What is it for?"
The cell head did not answer but kindly repeated, "Please co out for a mont; soone wants to see you alone."
Winters thought to himself morosely, "It seems I can't escape this ordeal today. How did customs find out what I wrote? Damn sinister!"
But fortunately, the Major was foresighted; all the evidence had been destroyed. Winters made up his mind, either customs would have to cut open his and the Major's stomachs, or he would stick to his story and refuse to admit anything.
With a plan in mind, Winters stood up with composure and straightened his clothes.
Bard furrowed his brow and challenged the cell head, "What, are you going to torture him?"
"He wouldn't dare," Andre shouted as he sprang up from the ground, having not been asleep after all.
The cell head, still without saying anything extra, simply lifted his arm and gestured for Winters to follow.
Winters patted Bard and Andre's shoulders to reassure them, loosened his collar, and with the eyes of his compatriots upon him, he walked out of the cell with a scoff.
The silent cell head walked ahead to lead the way; each prison cell had two layers of doors. Winters followed him through the double doors and entered a long corridor, with prison doors intermittently lining both walls.
The prison of the Customs Office was a single-story standalone building, and the large cell where the warrant officers were placed was just one of the rooms used to confine prisoners guilty of minor offenses. The environnt could be ranked among the top, so it was made available to "invite" this group of army officers for a temporary stay.
There were many more cells harsher than this, and customs filled them all up with people.
The Customs Office was a significant source of revenue for the Republic, having been granted independent enforcent powers to combat smuggling by the Senate.
Since transborder smuggling was essentially undermining the Customs Office's authority, they took their anti-smuggling efforts very seriously—so seriously that the Office had a special section of land designated for a prison built to detain the smugglers they caught.
The hatred of a tax collector for a smuggler runs as deep into the bone as the hatred of a rchant for a tax collector.
Winters followed the head of the prison ward through door after door, exiting through a small door at the end of the corridor and was led to the deeper parts of the prison.
Until the head of the ward stopped in front of a small door and made a gesture inviting him into the trap.
Winters felt a bit scared, but his expression betrayed no sign of panic. He secretly swallowed, pushing open the wooden door with disdain.
Inside the room, there were none of the torture devices he had imagined, only a square table in the center with four chairs around it.
Behind the square table sat a middle-aged man, toying with a small knife.
This person was tall and thin, with large bone structure and eyes, his dragon-like gaze was full of life, and his facial features were of noble appearance.
Winters recognized this man, not only did Winters recognize him, but he also knew Winters, even when Winters was still an infant.
Winters's eyes widened, and his mouth gaped, he was just about to blurt out "Uncle" when he swallowed the word back down forcefully.
But he still couldn't suppress the surprise in his heart and called out another familiar title:
"Colonel?!"
————I am the line that knows you are an old friend————
Excerpt from "Winters' Spellbook: Speed Enhancent Spells"
Spell Na: Wright's Deviation Spell
Description: An advanced version of the Arrow Flying Spell, it accelerates objects like bullets and arrows through magic towards a lawful direction, causing them to deviate from their original trajectory.
Difficulty: A (Extrely Difficult), to cast the spell precisely on high-speed moving objects in an instant, demanding high burst strength, precision, and casting range.
Notes: Once this spell is mastered, projectiles will have difficulty penetrating (but it probably can't guard against a stab in the back).
————————
Excerpt from "Winters' Spellbook: Sound-Based Spells"
Spell Na: Yvede's Sonic Blast Spell
Description: A more powerful version of the amplifying spell, it can scare enemies, shatter their eardrums, and disrupt their balance.
Difficulty: B (Difficult), requires the spellcasters to have extrely strong spell burst strength, otherwise, it is just akin to yelling; the spell's power increases with the increase of spell burst strength.
Notes: This spell really has more problems than solutions, if one cannot solve the technical challenge of "injuring the enemy a lot but oneself a little," then this spell will never truly be usable in combat.
P.S. 1: Every spellcaster has their own spellbook for recording learned spells and their own original spells and includes so combat experience and insights;
P.S. 2: If you have any recomndation tickets, could you please cast them for ? Thank you.
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