Real Mount and Blade Game

The seven mountain dwarf warriors beside him seemed particularly happy.

Their rough, thick hands pounded the wooden planks beneath them, and they even hummed low, short tunes with a rocky rhythm.

"Haha! That's more like it!" A dwarf with a full beard, whose mouth was almost invisible, grinned, clearly enjoying the carriage as a mode of transportation.

He called out to the two farmers driving the cart ahead, "Hey! Guys! Your cart is slower than those mining carts pulled by dwarf horses in our spirit world, but it looks sturdy!"

The farmer driving the cart was a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a faded coarse linen robe and a straw hat. Hearing the voice, he turned around and revealed a simple and honest smile: "The packhorses of our Swadian Kingdom are all good horses for hauling goods and plowing fields. They have excellent endurance. Of course, the warhorses bred by our Swadian Kingdom are the best!"

“The Kingdom of Swadia?” Another dwarf warrior, wiping his short-handled warhammer, looked up, his brows furrowing into a deep frown. “Which plane of existence is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

They had been away from the dwarven kingdom of the mountain tribes for too long, struggling to survive in the gap between the spirit world and the blue planet, and their understanding of the outside world had long been blurred.

In his mind, the farmer was probably referring to some unknown small human country in one of the many sub-planes.

"Oh? What plane?" The farmer who had spoken earlier was somewhat surprised, but remembering his superior's instructions to keep quiet on such topics and not to say anything carelessly, he chuckled and said, "We used to live in the Kingdom of Swadia, farming and raising horses in Tiha City, but that's all in the past!"

His tone carried a hint of nostalgia, and a barely perceptible resentment: "Our King Harlaus was truly a terrible man... Sigh, why tell you all this? It's much better now! Lord Shenmu is wise and benevolent, and Deherim is a truly wonderful place to live! We have food to eat, work to do, and a lord to protect us. We don't have to fear those bastards outside!"

The dwarves nodded as if they understood, but to them, whether the king of the human kingdom was good or bad was far less important than the actual stability they had at the moment.

Suddenly, one of the dwarf statues remembered something and slapped his thigh: "Wine! Do you Swadia have any good beer and ale? Black truffle ale! Amber fire!"

The farmer's eyes lit up instantly when wine was mentioned.

"Wow! This dwarf brother knows his stuff!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Beer is a staple in our area! It's refreshing in the summer. As for malt liquor, some small workshops brew it too, and it's really fragrant! But the most potent is still distilled spirit! One sip and your throat feels like it's on fire!"

"Distilled spirits?!" the dwarven warriors exclaimed almost in unison, their eyes gleaming with eager anticipation. "You can make strong liquor too?!"

"Of course we can! Of course we can!" Another farmer driving a cart joined in the conversation: "Use wheat or potatoes, ferment them, and then distill them. The resulting liquor is the strongest! It's only truly flavorful when you drink it with a bit of the tail!"

The atmosphere on the carriage quickly became lively. The dwarves chattered excitedly about the rich, mellow malt aroma and rock-like aftertaste of their hometown's dwarven spirits, while the farmers shared stories of traditional Swadian village breweries and their tasting experiences.

Individuals of different races, backgrounds, and even different dimensions have found a deep resonance in the shared human experience and enjoyment of "alcohol."

The technical details, such as temperature control for malt soaking, fermentation time, and control of distillation temperature, became a bridge, and the two sides got along better and better, with laughter echoing in the empty wilderness.

Even the two Khergit horse archers who were riding slowly alongside the carriage couldn't help but smile slightly.

The tension that had been building for days seemed to ease a little amid the lively discussion about wine that was emanating from inside the carriage.

Amidst billowing dust, the carriage traveled westward along the road, crushing the remnants of the apocalypse, carrying the hope of new life and expectations for the future, toward the sanctuary city of Deherim, said to possess farmland, pastures, and truly "rule-based" food.

Chen Ping leaned against the carriage floor, listening to the dwarfs and farmers beside him arguing about brewing techniques, watching the slowly setting sun outside the carriage window dye the desert a golden red, and in the distance, the fortified New Rivadin City looked like a majestic beast in the twilight.

The fatigue and fear from days of travel were gradually replaced by a numb dullness, which was then dispelled little by little by the bustling human world and the hope of heading west.

He closed his eyes and for the first time felt a sense of... security on his journey?
And a strong curiosity about that unknown Deherim.

The slight jolts of the carriage were no longer irritating, but rather became a rhythmic and steady journey.

The road ahead remains treacherous and unpredictable, but the sound of the wheels rolling forward symbolizes a firm determination to escape the whirlpool and rush towards life.

……

Dust swirled in the golden sunset, outlining the imposing silhouette of Deherime's new city walls.

The wheels rolled over the newly paved stone road, making a rhythmic rumbling sound that seemed to crush away some of the fatigue from the journey.

The carriage carrying Chen Ping and his party finally entered the legendary city of refuge.

However, the scene that came into view was far more impactful than any description could have.

Deherim is like a giant, vibrant, and powerful beehive.

During the time they were away from New Rivadin on their reconnaissance mission and on their return, the city, founded by Lord Shenmu, was expanding outwards at an unprecedented pace.

The tall, still unfinished but already sturdy stone city wall, like a gray dragon, meanders and extends, enclosing large tracts of land on the originally barren east and west sides into the city's territory.

There, the construction sites of the new East District and the new West District were bustling with activity.

Clang! Clang! Clang!
The deafening sounds of hammering, cutting, and the shouts of craftsmen mingled together, creating a vibrant and hopeful symphony of labor.

A team of experienced construction workers from the continent of Calradia are the protagonists of this grand construction project.

Most of them wore sturdy and durable coarse cloth work clothes, their skin was tanned dark, but their movements were exceptionally skilled and precise.

The commander was Manid, a former caravan leader who now seemed to have found a new stage.

He was no longer a businessman who carefully calculated profits, but transformed into a decisive and efficient construction manager.

He rode a docile traveling horse, constantly shuttling between two huge construction sites. His dark face was covered in lime powder, and his voice, hoarse from shouting for a long time, was still loud and powerful, penetrating the noisy environment.

"Over there! Make the foundation even more solid! If the foundation isn't firm, the city wall won't stand!"

"Stone materials! Third construction team, speed up the moving! This section of the wall must be completed before sunset today!"

"Be careful! Wear your gloves! Don't let the stones fall on your feet!"

"Planning map! Look closely at the planning map! The location of every warehouse and every row of barracks must be correct!"

Manid's whip pointed vaguely in the air to the section of the city wall that was being rapidly constructed, where workers were busy up and down like ants. Huge stone blocks were lifted by a simple crane consisting of a winch and a wooden frame, and then carefully placed and aligned by stonemasons.

He then pointed to the area in the distance where foundations were being laid, rows of deep trenches were being dug, and transport teams composed of Swadian farmers were filling them with gravel and mortar to form the foundation framework of the future houses.

The city's basic framework is gradually taking shape through the labor of countless hands, and a steadfast sense of order is operating smoothly amidst the hustle and bustle.

Beyond the busy core team of construction workers, the much larger number of Earthlings became an indispensable supporting force.

Regardless of gender, anyone still capable of working became a member of the moving army.

Their clothing was varied, ranging from tattered modern clothes to more practical local-style coarse cloth garments. Their faces bore the marks of long-term malnutrition, but their eyes held much more vitality and hope than the survivors Chen Ping had encountered in the ruins. They were undertaking the most arduous and basic physical labor.

Two or three people would work together to lift heavy stone blocks, gritting their teeth and sweating profusely as they went back and forth on the construction site. Many others used baskets, wheelbarrows, or even their shoulders to transport basic building materials such as gravel, sand, and timber.

The heavy burden bent their backs, and sweat soaked their clothes, leaving winding trails in the dust.

Many people had their palms worn raw, but they simply wrapped them with coarse cloth and continued working.

Their movements may not be as nimble as the professional workers in Calradia, and their bricklaying precision may not be as good, but their hard-working and conscientious attitude, as well as the tenacity they displayed in order to survive and be safe, is truly moving.

"Hey, make way! Here comes the timber!" A young man pushed a creaking wheelbarrow piled high with logs, calling out as he made his way through the crowd.

"Old Zhang! We're running out of mortar here! Hurry up and bring two buckets over!" A Swadian craftsman in charge shouted to an elderly man with a full head of white hair.

The old man quickly agreed and jogged off to get the materials.

In this newly formed city, strength knows no age, and every effort is rewarded—a "standard" meal sufficient to sustain life, and a simple but safe shelter from the wind and rain.

The air in Deherme was filled with the salty smell of sweat, the fresh scent of freshly shaving wood, the pungent smell of lime, and the mixed aroma of food.

The golden glow of the setting sun cast a warm glow over everything, and the figures of the workers stretched out, but the heat of the construction site did not diminish at all.

This is no longer a desperate struggle for survival in the apocalypse; it is a scene of a group of people from different worlds and with different pasts rebuilding a home of hope bit by bit with their own hands and sweat for a common shelter.

This vibrant scene left a deep impression on Chen Ping, who had just arrived, leaving him and the weary dwarves momentarily stunned.

Meanwhile, on the tall walls of the relatively quiet and well-ordered "Old Town" of Deherim, Fatis stood like a javelin.

He wore gleaming chainmail boots and a fur-trimmed chainmail armor that symbolized his commanding status.

One hand rested habitually on the hilt of his sword, while the other hand braced against the battlement. His deep eyes, like those of a hawk, slowly scanned the two distinct yet equally busy worlds inside and outside the city walls.

On the city wall, the soldiers on duty included both experienced Swadian sergeants and newly recruited Swadian light infantry. Upon seeing him, they all straightened their backs and paid their respects.

Fatis nodded slightly in response, his gaze mainly fixed on the construction sites of the two new urban districts that were expanding.

The distant noise from the construction site could be faintly heard, with smoke and dust rising.

Manid's figure appeared as a jumping black dot among them.

Fatis watched as the newly built sections of the city wall gradually closed and rose higher, as the foundations of rows of new houses stretched straight out, and as countless ant-like figures worked and busied themselves among them.

The sight of this grand construction project brought a faint but genuine sense of satisfaction to his resolute face.

This kind of construction itself is a manifestation of order and power.

Although the construction site was bustling and chaotic, resembling an anthill, the disorder he had feared did not materialize.

Manid seemed to have managed to keep the massive scene under control. Foremen and workers performed their duties, supplies were transferred in an orderly manner, and there were no incidents of looting, fighting, or disruption of order in the core area.

“Order…is the cornerstone of survival, and also the embodiment of Lord Shen Mu’s will.” Fatis murmured to himself, as if summarizing today’s inspection.

He had a higher opinion of Manid's management abilities.

His gaze did not linger long on the land under construction; it soon turned to the lower inner side of the city wall.

That was a newly opened open space near the old city wall, which had been leveled and was used specifically as a training ground for new recruits.

At this moment, the shouts of battle were deafening on the training field.

Dozens of newly recruited soldiers—including strong but still somewhat clumsy Swadian youths—wearing uniformly issued simple leather armor and carrying red-painted training wooden guns or swords, lined up to practice basic stabbing maneuvers.

"Punch! Thrust! Pull back! Stabilize your stance! Don't lose your footing!" an old Swadian sergeant with a thick beard roared, constantly correcting the new recruit's movements.

"You! Raise your gun higher! Do you want someone to stab you down in one go?"

"You! Your back is broken! Use some strength!"

Under the sun, sweat streamed down the faces of the new recruits, some young and some not so young. Some were panting, some gritted their teeth and persevered, some performed the movements perfectly, and some made many mistakes.

Without exception, everyone's eyes held a yearning for the future, as well as a hint of fighting spirit ignited by the high-pressure training.

They knew that only by passing the test here could they truly don armor, take up blades, fight to protect the city that gave them safety, and serve Lord Shen Mu, who had pulled them back from the brink of despair.

Fatis’s gaze moved slowly over the recruits, like a quality inspector examining a newly conceived weapon.

He saw the roughness and the awkwardness, but he also saw progress.

A new young man, who initially couldn't even hold a wooden sword properly, can now complete a set of basic blocking movements smoothly.

A tall Swadian farmer's son, with powerful strides but lacking coordination, began to develop a sense of teamwork under the constant guidance of the veteran.

“The manpower is still far from sufficient. We are far from being able to deal with the threat from the east.” Fatis pondered, his eyes sharp. “But the seeds have been sown. As long as there is time, as long as there is loyalty, as long as there is continuous training…” He believed that, under the nourishment of Lord Shen Mu’s prescribed food and the protection of a relatively safe environment, these recruits would grow much faster than usual.

His gaze eventually passed over the training ground and landed on the location of the Lord's Hall.

That solid foundation of the city, like a rock, is the ultimate destination for all this prosperity, busyness, training, and construction.

Fatis straightened his back, as if paying homage to an unseen lord, and silently prayed, "Lord Shenmu, what you have asked for will be done to the best of my ability. The army of Deherem will always be ready to crush all obstacles for your will."

He turned around, his iron boots making a crisp rhythm on the stone bricks, and continued his patrol of the city wall.

The setting sun cast his long shadow onto the solid new city wall, blending him into the deepening twilight along with the city.

Inside the city walls, there is a vibrant energy and hope for new life.

Outside the city walls lurks endless threats in the darkness.

These high walls connecting the inside and outside are a symbol of upholding order. (End of Chapter)