She had never seen anything like it in her father’s knight order.
She even felt that if this troop were placed on the battlefield, they might not lose to those seasoned knight orders of the sa rank from the Northern Territory.
What followed was the official exhibition match.
First up was the mounted joust.
Two knights halted their steeds at the starting line on opposite ends, holding their lances, their visors down, as the signal was given.
"Hah!!"
The sound of hooves thundered! The lances like dragons!
The two knights charged past each other, colliding with a dull thud in the center as the lance tips struck each other’s chest targets with sparks flying.
The audience erupted in waves of cheering!
"Amazing! So cool!"
"Is he, is he okay?! That strike seed like it really hit!"
"I want to beco a knight when I grow up!"
It was as if a fla ignited in the eyes of the children, becoming their lifelong dream.
Following was the hand-to-hand combat exercise.
Two fully armored knights brandished blunt swords, facing off, probing, blocking, and sweeping with each move heavy and powerful.
Even though they used practice weapons, each clash was so real it made hearts race.
The spectators watched with bated breath, so unconsciously mimicking the moves.
The knights’ performance concluded with the highlight of the show.
"The live combat with a magical beast."
As the host loudly announced it, the stands erupted in excited commotion; countless people even stood up directly, craning their necks taller than giraffes, afraid to miss a single second.
Several elite knights appeared, red fighting energy swirling around their longswords like fiery streams, dazzling to behold.
Their opponent was a glacier boar.
It was as big as an elephant, with thick hide, coarse flesh, long tusks, and swift feet, a commonly seen low-tier magical beast in the Northern Lands.
Though it was not worth ntioning on the battlefield, on this plaza, it remained an excellent performance prop.
And these knights clearly understood "performance" as well.
They didn’t swarm to finish off the boar imdiately, instead, they went back and forth, their fighting energy flashing as if adding special effects to the beast contest for the audience.
They occasionally lunged forward, sotis deliberately sidestepping to dodge, controlling the situation, driving the boar in circles, yet always sparing it at the last mont.
The cheers surged like waves.
So excited audience mbers jumped up shouting: "Chase it down! Kill it with one sword!"
Others clasped their friends’ arms, exclaiming: "Oh my God, did you see that charge just now?!"
Emily stood amidst the crowd, and couldn’t help but smile gently.
She had never seen such a scene, not because hunting magical beasts was rare.
But this kind of "deliberately slowing down to let everyone see" style of battle was almost like... staging a musical with the beasts.
"So battle can be seen as performance... It’s quite brilliant, actually."
The beast show concluded, leading to the most thrilling segnt.
As the trumpeter played the lody of victory, the Red Tide knights, assembled neatly in formation, raised their lances in unison, breastplates clashing, hooves stamping the ground.
They shouted loudly: "For the Red Tide! For Lord Louis! Long live!!!"
Their voice was thunderous.
At that mont, the whole plaza seed to resonate in the air.
Children jumped up excitedly, imitating the motions, while adults cheered with fervor, so with tears in their eyes, others clenching their fists.
Cascading cheers swept across like a tidal wave.
"Long live the Red Tide!!"
"Long live Lord Louis!!!"
In that instant, it was as if everyone joined into a boiling torrent.
Emily stood among the crowd, feeling as if she were engulfed by this heated wave, monts of breathlessness ensuing.
She looked at the people, the warriors, the commoners, the children...
The pride and reverence on their faces, unmasked and blazing, seared her heart like fire.
Not due to bloodline, not because of birth, nor family honor.
They truly and genuinely revered one person — Louis.
Not because he’s nobility, not because he’s the young lord who defeated the Snow Swearer.
But because he gave them hope.
He made them feel like they belonged to this land, belonging to the na "Red Tide."
He wasn’t just their lord, but also their guardian, their sun.
Emily felt a suffocating sensation; such a scene... she never witnessed in her father’s domain.
Her father was the ruler of the entire Northern Territory, embodying the highest power, yet people feared him, obeyed him, but never adored him.
Emily clenched her fists; at that mont, her curiosity about Louis reached new heights.
Yet what she didn’t know was that, on a pavilion not far away, Louis was quietly overlooking the revelry of the plaza.
He stood behind the sunlight, arms crossed, and his expression was calm.
"Hmm... it seems effective," Louis murmured softly, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "At the very least, it lets them know that even if war arises again in the future, they have a knight order ready to fight at their backs."
The people’s ardor and reverence at that mont were neither unfamiliar nor worthy of indulgence to him.
For he knew all too well that the land of the Northern Territory continued to linger in peril.
The current peace was but a temporary reprieve, and he knew distinctly that a greater disaster would befall the Northern Territory this winter.
Clear and firm order was needed to maintain the present serenity.
The knights’ tournant from the outset wasn’t ant to please anyone.
It wasn’t for show, nor romance.
The reason was to demonstrate the territory’s military strength, to offer them a sense of security.
Louis then turned, asking: "How are the preparations for the banquet?"
Bradley nodded: "Almost done, the ingredients have been delivered to the plaza, and the performance troupe is in their final rehearsal. We can start in an hour."
"Hmm." Louis nodded, raising his gaze to the sky.
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