This was the first ti he set foot outside the Red Tide Territory, onto other lands within his rule.
The reason, well, could be sumd up in two words: too busy.
War, reconstruction, food, refugees, winter preparations, administrative systems, the Northern Territory affairs of the Calvin Clan...
Each one was enough to exhaust an ordinary person.
"But despite the busyness, I am still the Lord." He leaned against the carriage window, a rare hint of anticipation in his eyes. "I really want to see what the Cold Fir Territory has beco under my policies."
If the situation was ideal, the people lived and worked happily, tax revenues were stable, and the grassroots officials were efficient.
Then he could confidently pat soone’s shoulder and say, "Well done."
But if that wasn’t the case?
"Hmph..." A smile played on his lips, "Then... everyone’s getting removed and re-evaluated."
After all, the policies had already been implented and resources distributed, so if Cold Fir Territory truly ssed things up, those responsible would not escape accountability.
"Don’t bla for being ruthless," he whispered to himself.
......
On the other side, in Cold Fir Territory.
The mont the news of Lord Louis’s impending visit spread throughout the town, the whole Cold Fir Territory seed ignited.
The roads were swept spotlessly clean, adorned with colorful cloths and flags of the Red Tide Territory waving in the wind.
A festive atmosphere spread, and officials ordered the entire city to have a day off.
"No one is allowed to stay at ho today, everyone will welco the Lord!"
Of course, even without this order, they would still gather to welco the Lord.
The square was crowded, with residents gathering on the main street from dawn, wrapped in thick clothing, their eyes fervently fixed on the end of the road.
"Will he really co?" a young boy asked his father, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"He will," the father assuredly patted his head.
The sunlight was dazzling, yet the crowd kept growing.
But by noon, there was still no sign of the cavalry.
A knight couldn’t help but complain in a low voice to the civil servant beside him, "Are you sure the Lord is coming today? Better not have mixed up the days."
The civil servant shook his head with a wry smile, "Probably... sothing got delayed."
As they spoke, suddenly a rumbling sound echoed from afar.
"He’s coming! Lord Louis is coming!!"
The crowd erupted like ignited gunpowder.
Thunderous cheers pierced the sky, mingled with cries, kneeling, and cries of fervor.
So lifted their children high, so tossed their hogrown flowers into the air, like offerings, also like celebrations;
Even elderly people knelt down with a thud, mumbling tearfully, "The sun... the sun is here..."
And in the midst of the crowd, a middle-aged carpenter listened to the cheers, tears streaming down his face.
Months ago, his daughter Mia had been on the brink of death from a high fever.
It was the patrol of the Red Tide Knights who rescued her and took her to Lord Louis’s camp, and healed her with precious potions.
When the plague broke out, he himself fell under the Snow Spirit Curse, close to dying.
Louis himself ventured into the hot zones to capture the Fire-backed Turtle, establishing the first steam treatnt shed in Cold Fir Territory, pulling him back from the brink of death.
Now, Mia had been selected into the Knight Reserves.
Every week, she sends letters from the Red Tide, describing her training progress, spear practice, and night patrols, word by word...
It made him proud, yet also pained him.
To him, Louis was not just a lord, but the person who "brought a second life to their family."
But this feeling wasn’t just limited to his family.
In Cold Fir Territory, on this land that had risen from the snow disaster and war, nearly everyone had been saved by that man in tis of despair.
Refugees ate their first bowl of hot porridge by the fire;
Won gave birth in snowy nights with dical aid and charcoal;
Children learned to read, study, and train under his protection, no longer fearing the future.
"If it weren’t for him, we would have died in that winter," an elderly woman trembled as she spoke, her eyes still fixed on the end of the road. "He is our only hope."
Louis rode a tall snow-maned warhorse, his deep red cloak audibly flapping in the wind.
He didn’t wear dazzling armor, nor did he carry an extravagant entourage, just a simple battle robe, the cold wind carrying a slight chill, yet enhancing him like light breaking at dawn.
His features were gentle, his appearance youthful, but not frivolous.
It bore a kind of warm grace, like the first rays of sunlight in the morning sky.
In the refugee group, soone burst into tears, not from sadness, but from the emotional breakdown akin to encountering rain after a long drought.
"Is he our Lord?"
"So young..."
"But... it seems like it’s not the first ti seeing him..."
"Hmm... in dreams... there was a figure just like him."
Soft whispers arose among the crowd.
He was the one who set up camps during chaos, distributed bread and potions during blizzards, buried corpses after battles, providing shelter to refugees.
He was the one who brought hope.
Not a legend, nor a divine being.
But alive, walking right before their eyes, the true sun.
So stared blankly, forgetting to wave, others wept and collapsed to the ground.
Their kneeling wasn’t out of fear, but gratitude, flag-waving wasn’t by command, but out of love.
Raising the Red Tide flag high wasn’t just symbolic.
Because on it, there truly was light.
Seeing the crowd’s emotions nearly ignite the air, Louis was slightly taken aback.
He wasn’t without experience in situations like this.
The celebrations in Red Tide Territory, the welco ceremonies upon returning from battles, the gratitude and tears of the people were sothing he had already witnessed.
Yet the scene before him... was even more passionate, more genuine.
Crying, kneeling, mixed with shouts of gratitude, each unfamiliar yet sincere face bore a gaze almost of devotion.
"Perhaps it’s because it’s my first ti in Cold Fir Territory," he gently sighed to himself.
These people, most likely had been waiting for him in their hearts for a long ti.
He pulled the reins, stopped at the town’s entrance, and dismounted.
He looked ahead, his voice not loud, yet it carried through the crowd like the lting of spring snow: "I didn’t expect so many people to co to welco ... nor that I’d be welcod in such a way."
He smiled, his gaze slowly sweeping over each citizen, with no trace of arrogance, only warmth and sincerity in his eyes.
"Perhaps many of you... received food from us during your hardest tis; perhaps soone got a quilt, a potion, or a temporary camp during the snowy winds;
But the reason you are alive today is because you were strong enough, brave enough.
And I ca today to visit you, to see this land that has stood up from hardship."
He continued with a touch of sunny warmth in his voice: "And now, spring has arrived.
The ice and snow are lting, the land is awakening. This is the season of sowing, and also the season of hope.
I don’t need you to do anything for , nor do I want you to verbalize your gratitude.
As long as you can, in this spring, work hard, diligently guard your families, contribute to the territory, that will be the best return to ."
A silence followed.
The wind blew over the square, rustling the hair and garnts of the people.
Soon after, soone choked up, the emotions suppressed over an entire winter finally finding an outlet.
Soone quietly sobbed, "We will try our best, Lord..."
Quickly, like an avalanche, the emotions spread.
"I’ll definitely plant two more ridges this year!"
"We’re not fleeing anymore, this land is our ho!"
Passionate shouts and applause erupted from the crowd, so waved flags, so burst into tears,
and children knelt, shouting, "Long live the Red Tide! Long live the Lord!"
It wasn’t a slogan, but the real testant to their survival.
They had seen this light in the darkness.
Now they’re willing to strive for this brightness.
The Red Tide flag waved high in the wind.
Its blood-red background glowed warm gold under the sunlight.
The golden sun at the center of the flag seed to truly shine.
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