Outside Han Shan Territory, deep within the dense forest.
The morning breeze swept through the treetops, dispersing the lingering mist of the night.
Sunlight dappled through the branches, casting mottled patterns on the ground, as a well-organized knight squad advanced along a forest path.
Leading them was a young man, clad in a black cloak with silver patterns faintly gleaming in the sunlight.
He rode his horse as if rely out for a leisurely patrol, showing no signs of tension.
“Lord Louis is in a good mood,” a young knight whispered.
His companion nudged him with an elbow, “Isn’t he always like this? He’s very approachable. Honestly, compared to Lord Louis, everyone else feels much more at ease.”
Although they were unclear about the exact purpose of this excursion, they had grown accustod to it:
As long as it was Louis’s command, they would simply follow it.
Since the Snowsworn battle, the soldiers of Red Tide Territory had developed an almost instinctive trust in their young lord.
Beyond the dense forest, a rocky outcrop stood prominently.
A fissure, as if split by the heavens, opened diagonally into a dark entrance, surrounded by frost-eroded vines and gravel, with faint traces of animals having once inhabited the area.
Louis dismounted, saying softly, “Everyone be careful, let’s go in and take a look.”
He didn’t put on airs or pretend to be mysterious.
It was as if he had just impulsively decided to explore an old place.
Several knights voluntarily stepped forward, raising their torches while clearing obstacles ahead.
They were relaxed, so even joking, “Maybe there’s a treasure map hidden in this cave.”
But as they went deeper, the laughter gradually faded.
Deep within the rock cave, it was damp and cold.
Moreover, an indescribable scorching, putrid sll perated the air.
These strange odors made them sowhat wary.
Upon reaching a natural cave hall, the light suddenly brightened.
“My Lord, there’s soone ahead!” the scout in front suddenly warned loudly.
Everyone imdiately entered a state of alert.
Louis, however, rely straightened his expression, quickening his pace towards the illuminated end.
A figure lay sprawled on the stone ground, half-subrged in a pool of glowing green liquid, the air thick with a foul stench of acid and blood.
His grey-silver ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) robe was already in tatters, his left shoulder appeared to have been seared through by flas, and his armor was charred and curled.
His exposed skin was covered in black scorch marks, and a segnt of insect remains was embedded in the wound, still twitching slightly.
The circle of magic-suppressed seal marks flickered faintly within the flesh, cruel and cold.
“It’s him,” Louis’s gaze narrowed upon seeing such horrific injuries.
Just as he was about to approach, a low shout ca from beside him: “Lord Louis, please step back!”
It was Lambert, standing in front of him with a tense expression.
“Last ti—you were knocked out by a dying old man’s breath.”
At this, many knights’ mouths twitched, clearly rembering the incident.
Louis was also soone who valued his life, so he didn’t try to act tough.
He lightly stepped back half a pace, shrugging, “That was my carelessness.”
Two experienced knights quickly stepped forward.
One of them knelt down, gently checking Leixier’s breath with his palm, then examining his wounds and pulse, frowning as he murmured, “He’s still alive, but very badly injured—he’s almost gone.”
The other knight tried to wake him, his voice not loud, but clear enough: “Hey, can you hear ? Are you alright?”
There was no response.
The body slumped on the ground was like a piece of deadwood from which the soul had been drawn, its breath extrely chaotic, with only faint signs of life maintaining its last will.
Louis stood at a distance, gazing at the wound on the man’s chest.
An entire section of armor had been completely corroded, the flesh charred black, blood and debris mixed into a nauseating, foul-slling ss.
The sight made one’s scalp tingle.
“—If we had co a few hours later, he probably would have truly died.”
He narrowed his eyes, vaguely rembering that although the legendary mage from last ti was also severely injured, his injuries seed different.
Louis pulled out two bottles of green potion from his In arms, the bottles silver-sealed and gleaming softly.
“Give him these.” He handed the potions to the knight beside him.
“Yes.”
Those were high-purity life potions produced by the Calvin rchant Guild.
Since becoming a “mine boss,” he had hoarded a lot of them; in the war-torn North, such things were more useful than gold.
Now, they weren’t rare to him, but using them on this “rare mage” was a very cost-effective investnt.
The knight carefully fed the potion to Leixier, drop by drop; the process was difficult, but it eventually went down smoothly.
The second bottle was then poured down, and after a while, the man’s originally ashen face gradually began to show a hint of color.
“His breathing is more stable, and his body temperature has risen,” the knight whispered.
“But he’s still unconscious,” Lambert frowned.
“Then let’s take him back,” Louis stood up, dusting off his clothes, his tone gentle.
He sighed softly, his gaze falling on the heavily scarred body, a hint of unease rising within him.
“What kind of thing could have beaten a mage squad into such a state? And this thing is still near my territory.”
He silently prayed for the unknown mage in his heart: “You’d better survive, I want to know what kind of thing turned you into this state.”
After rescuing the dying mage, Louis did not return to Red Tide Territory the sa way.
Instead, he embarked on the journey to Han Shan Territory as originally planned.
“Well, it’s about ti to go,” he stretched on his horse, “After all, that’s also one of my territories.”
3
This was his first ti setting foot outside Red Tide Territory, into other areas under his rule.
The reason, actually, was just two words: too busy.
War, reconstruction, food, refugees, winter, administrative system, the Calvin Family’s northern affairs—every single one of them was enough to drain a normal person dry.
“But busy is busy, I’m still the lord,” he leaned against the carriage window, a rare hint of anticipation in his eyes, “I really want to see what Han Shan Territory has beco under the influence of my policies.”
If the situation was ideal, with the people living in peace and prosperity, stable taxes, and clean and efficient local officials.
Then he could confidently pat their shoulders and say, “Well done.”
But what if it wasn’t?
“Hmph—” He curved his lips into a smile, “Then—everyone will be dismissed and re-evaluated.”
After all, policies had been implented and resources allocated; if Han Shan Territory truly ssed up, those responsible would not escape accountability.
“Don’t bla for being heartless,” he murmured softly to himself.
On the other side, in Han Shan Territory.
The mont the news of Lord Louis’s impending visit spread throughout the town, the entire Han Shan Territory was ignited as if by fire.
The roads were swept spotless, adorned with colorful cloths and Red Tide Territory banners fluttering in the wind.
A festive atmosphere spread, and officials ordered a day off for the entire city.
“No one is allowed to stay ho today, everyone must welco the lord!”
Of course, even without this order, they would all have gathered to welco their lord.
The square was packed with people; from early morning, residents had gathered on the main street, bundled in thick clothes, yet with fervent eyes gazing towards the end of the road.
“Will he really co?” a young boy looked up and asked his father, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“He will,” the father firmly stroked his head.
The sun was dazzling, but the crowd grew larger and larger.
However, until noon, there was still no sign of the cavalry.
A knight couldn’t help but complain in a low voice to the civilian official next to him: “Are you sure my Lord is coming today? Don’t tell you got the date wrong.”
The civilian official smiled bitterly and shook his head: “Sothing must have delayed him.”
Just as he spoke, a rumbling sound suddenly ca from afar.
“They’re here! Lord Louis is here!!”
The crowd erupted like ignited gunpowder.
Thunderous cheers ripped through the sky, mixed with cries, prostrations, and shouts approaching frenzy.
So held up their children, others threw their own flowers into the air, like a sacrifice, or a celebration:
Even an old man fell to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down his face, murmuring, “The sun—the sun has co.”
And in the center of the crowd, a middle-aged carpenter listened to the cheers, tears streaming down his face.
A few months ago, his daughter Mia was dying of a high fever.
It was the Red Tide Territory knight patrol that rescued her and brought her back to Lord Louis’s camp, curing her with precious dicine.
When the plague broke out, and he himself was afflicted with the Snow Spirit Curse, on the verge of death.
It was Louis who personally risked going deep into the hot zone, capturing a Fireback Turtle, and establishing the first steam treatnt shed in Han Shan Territory, pulling him back from the brink of death.
Now Mia had been selected as a knight reservist.
Every week, she sent letters back from Red Tide, ticulously writing about her training progress, spear practice, and night patrols—making him both proud and heartbroken.
To him, Louis was not just the lord, but “the person who brought their family a second life.”
But this was not a feeling exclusive to his family.
In Han Shan Territory, in this land that had risen from snow disaster and war, almost everyone had been saved by that man in their darkest hour.
Refugees ate their first bowl of hot porridge by the fire:
Won giving birth on snowy nights received dical care and charcoal:
Children, under his protection, studied, learned, and trained, no longer fearing the future.
“If it weren’t for him, we would have died in that winter,” a woman said tremblingly, her eyes still fixed on the end of the road, “He is our only hope.”
Louis rode on a tall, snow-maned warhorse, his deep red cloak flapping in the wind.
He wore no dazzling armor, nor did he carry exaggerated ceremonial regalia, but simply a plain battle robe, carrying a slight chill from the wind and snow, yet it made him appear like the first light of dawn.
His features were gentle, his face young, yet not frivolous.
It was a kind of gentle temperant, like the first ray of sunlight on the horizon in the morning.
Soone in the crowd cried out, not from sorrow, but from an emotional collapse like that of a long-parched land finally receiving sweet rain.
“Is that our lord?”
“He’s so young—”
“But—it’s like I’ve seen him before—”
“Hmm—there’s a figure in my dream, exactly like him.”
Soft murmurs rose from the crowd.
He was the one who built camps amidst chaos, distributed flatbreads and potions during blizzards, buried corpses after battles, and offered refuge to refugees.
He was the one who brought hope.
Not a legend, nor a deity.
But a living, breathing, real sun walking before their eyes.
So stared blankly, forgetting to wave, while others cried and fell to the ground.
They knelt not out of fear, but out of gratitude; they waved flags not because of orders, but out of love.
They raised the Red Tide Territory sun flag high, not just as a symbol.
But because there truly was light upon it.
Seeing the crowd’s emotions almost ignite the air, Louis paused slightly.
He had not experienced such a scene before.
The celebrations in Red Tide Territory, the welco ceremonies upon returning to camp after battle, the gratitude and tears of the common people, he had already witnessed.
But the scene before him... was even more fervent, and more real.
Crying, prostrations, intertwined with shouts of thanks, face after face, unfamiliar yet sincere, all radiating gazes akin to faith.
“Perhaps it’s because I’m visiting Han Shan Territory for the first ti,” he sighed softly in his heart.
These people had probably been waiting for him in their hearts for a long ti.
He reined in his horse, stopped at the town entrance, and dismounted.
He looked ahead, his voice not loud, yet it pierced through the crowd like spring snow lting ice: “I didn’t expect so many people to co to welco —nor did I expect to be welcod in such a way.”
He smiled, his gaze slowly sweeping over every citizen, his eyes devoid of arrogance, only warmth and sincerity.
“Perhaps many of you, in your most difficult monts, received the food we sent; perhaps so received a cotton quilt, a potion, a temporary camp in the wind and snow;
But you are alive today because you are strong enough, brave enough.
And I am here today to visit you, to see this land that has risen from hardship.”
He continued, his voice carrying a hint of sunny warmth: “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 , and I certainly don’t want you to just speak of gratitude.
If you can diligently farm, work hard, cherish your families, and contribute to the land this spring, that will be the best reward for .”
A mont of silence.
The wind swept through the square, through the hair and clothes of the crowd.
Then, soone choked first, as if the emotions suppressed throughout the winter had finally found an outlet.
Soone first choked softly: “We will work hard, Lord Louis—”
Soon, the emotion spread like an avalanche.
“I will definitely plant two more rows of land this year!”
“We are no longer refugees, this land is our ho!”
Loud shouts and applause erupted from the crowd; so waved flags, so cried with emotion,
And children knelt, shouting: “Long live Red Tide! Long live Lord Louis!”
That was not just a slogan, but their true testant to survival.
They had seen this light in the darkness.
Now they were willing to live diligently for this light.
The Red Tide Territory flag was flying in the wind.
Its base color was crimson like blood, yet it glead with a warm golden light in the sunlight.
The golden sun in the center of the flag seed to truly shine.
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