The Steam Age: Gears and Bones

Chapter 82

When Perfit woke up, the sky outside the window had already turned a dusky yellow.

The setting sun peeked through the gaps in the curtains of the bedroom in the villa, casting a thin, elongated golden streak on the ceiling. She stared at that streak for a while before slowly realizing that she had slept for almost the entire day.

She sat up in bed, her body aching all over. The rebound of her long-strained mind after complete relaxation was more exhausting than any march. Belfast had already prepared hot water, and a brand-new dress was neatly folded on the low stool at the foot of the bed.

That was the formal attire prepared by the Romulus royal family for their distinguished guest—a deep blue velvet gown with silver thread embroidery of intertwined floral patterns on the cuffs and collar, a fitted cut, and a beautifully draped skirt.

Her old coat and the frayed woolen overcoat were gone; they were probably taken to be washed by the palace servants while she was asleep.

She changed into the dress, had Belfast put her hair up in a simple updo, and then walked to the mirror.

A girl who was too slender stood in the mirror. The dark blue velvet made her pale skin look almost transparent. The hem of her skirt swayed gently at her ankles, and her waist was cinched with a silver-embroidered belt to a slender curve that even she herself found unfamiliar.

She hadn't seen herself dressed like this in a mirror for a long time—either wrapped in a coat and smelling of gunpowder, or wearing a white lab coat and dealing with all sorts of experiments in the laboratory.

The girl in the mirror looked just like any noble lady from Romulus, without the light of the all-seeing eye, nor the alchemical staff in her hand, and looked incredibly frail.

She frowned slightly at herself in the mirror, then picked up her cane from the bedside, pushed open the door, and walked into the reception room of the villa.

Elector Falk was standing before the fireplace in the drawing room, one hand resting on the mantel, looking down at the fire. He turned around at the sound of footsteps and paused noticeably when he saw Perfit.

It took him a few seconds to connect the slender young woman in front of him, dressed in a dark blue velvet dress, with her hair neatly tied up, standing quietly at the entrance of the reception room, with the envoy Victoria who had earlier used his cane to tap out the entire war zone sand table in the council hall and explained the epidemic prevention system without changing his expression.

His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say a polite greeting, but in the end he only nodded slightly. The look in his eyes changed from simple scrutiny and curiosity to something else—not pity, but something closer to respect.

He has met many noble ladies.

His sister is the same age as Perfitt and just officially entered the social circle at a court ball this spring. Her biggest concern is what kind of lace to use for the ball's skirt.

The girl before us had traveled all the way from the border of Ross to here, through hordes of corpses, sealed away the divine abominations, personally transformed a defensive line at Wild Boar Ridge, and used a sand table on the palace floor to teach the entire empire's decision-makers how to fight a battle they had never fought before.

The load she was carrying was so heavy that even a veteran like him, who had fought in two border wars, found it difficult to carry, and she wasn't even old enough to sit in on parliamentary proceedings.

When Falk spoke, his voice was slightly lower than it had been in the council chamber: "Miss Brandlis, I am very sorry to visit you during your rest time. I am departing tonight for the Frans border to take my cavalry regiment and station them there for at least a week."

You told me in the council hall to go and see those things for myself first, and then you would tell me how to use my cavalry. I've come to ask you if there's anything you'd like to specifically instruct me on before I set off.”

Perfit walked to the fireplace, sat down in an armchair opposite Falk, and rested his cane on the armrest.

She hesitated for a moment, then looked up at him with her heterochromatic eyes and began to explain point by point: "You need to pay attention to the following points. First, the behavior pattern of the infected—they are not soldiers, they don't charge in formation, and they don't need supply lines."

They will come at any time and from any direction, usually attracted by sound.

When encountering a horde of zombies, do not attempt to charge head-on with cavalry. Infected limbs can still move independently after being crushed, and arms trampled by horses' hooves can still grip. Letting horses get caught in a horde of zombies is tantamount to suicide.

The role of cavalry is to quickly maneuver to the weak points of the defensive line and then carry out flanking maneuvers with the cooperation of infantry, not to charge into the enemy lines.

Second, their weak points—the cervical spine and the brain. Bullets are useless if they hit the body; they won't die unless they hit the spine or skull. Have your cavalry sharpen their sabers and specifically target the third and fourth cervical vertebrae.

Third, the activity of the sin blood varies in different hosts and environments. It may adhere to the surface of materials and survive for a period of time, especially in low temperature and humid environments.

All weapons, harnesses, and armor that have come into contact with infected individuals must be soaked or wiped with hydrogen peroxide after the battle, and gloves that have come into contact with the blood of the infected must be replaced.

fourth--"

She paused for a moment after saying this.

A thought flashed through her mind, like a plucked string, thin and sharp. Animals. Their epidemic prevention procedures at Wild Boar Ridge Fortress were all designed for humans—wounded soldier classification, isolation zones, requiem prayers, stripping techniques—all procedures were applied to human soldiers.

No one mentioned animals.

She traversed the entire Old World, encountering infected civilians, infected soldiers, and infected noble old hunters, but she never saw a report of animal infection in any battle report or any epidemic prevention record.

This does not mean that animals are immune—the blood of the infected has extensive corrosive capabilities at the microscopic level, and theoretically, the body fluid system of mammals could be completely eroded.

If animals can also be infected...

She abruptly stood up from her chair, the movement so sudden that Falk instinctively took a half-step back. "Miss Brandlis?"

"The Sinful Blood and the Blight are equally effective on animals. Humans are not the only hosts that can be infected—pigs can be raised again if they die, and cattle can be culled if they are infected, but horses cannot be compromised. For every warhorse your cavalry regiment has, you should allocate an additional ration of rations and hydrogen peroxide to your disease prevention system." Perfitt said, slamming his cane down hard, speaking very quickly. "From now on, after every battle, your cavalry must check the horses' limbs and muzzles for any abnormal wounds, and all horse tack that has come into contact with the Sinful Blood must be wiped with hydrogen peroxide before it can be reused."

If a horse is found to be unusually aggressive or has skin ulcers, it should be isolated immediately, and if the symptoms cannot be reversed, it should be euthanized immediately.

You must tell this to every single one of your cavalrymen personally; this is not ordinary military business that can be relayed to a sergeant major.