At six in the morning, the residential areas of the capital slowly awoke to the long, steady tolling of bells.
When Irene opened her eyes, the night sky outside the window had just begun to fade.
Soft sunlight spilled across the marble floor, forming neat, quiet patches of light.
Today was no ordinary day.
It was the fortieth anniversary of the founding of the Red Tide Republic, and it was also the day she had been invited to Red Tide City as a representative of the Academy of Sciences to attend the investiture ceremony.
Irene was born in the North. Her father was a captain in the Broken Fang Knights who later joined the Red Tide sequence, becoming one of the first knights to lay down their weapons and transition into the civil establishnt.
Because of this, she was able to enter a complete educational system—basic school, workshop internships, and the Academy of Sciences preparatory class—advancing step by step to where she was now.
She didn't consider herself exceptionally gifted; she simply understood a truth earlier than others: this world had begun to reward study and patience.
Now, she was an academician specializing in Magitech chanics and had been selected as an awardee for the fortieth anniversary.
On the other side of the bed, her husband John was still fast asleep.
John was an engineer at the Red Tide Ministry of Heavy Industry, responsible for the stability design of large-scale energy conduction structures.
His parents had been among the first serfs liberated in the Red Tide Territory. Now, they lived in a well-provisioned apartnt complex, occasionally arguing over their grandchildren's school assignnts.
Irene didn't wake him, rely getting up quietly.
She pushed open the window, and the city's silhouette unfolded completely before her.
The streets were clean and straight, the traffic lights at intersections changed in an orderly fashion, and on the low-altitude tracks, early-shift transport boats glided silently along fixed routes.
Neighbors had already begun their morning exercises; so were jogging, while others brought their children to open spaces for basic physical stretching.
She washed up briefly and changed into her formal gown. When she walked into the living room, she slled a familiar aroma.
Her mother, Mary, was already up.
The woman in her seventies stood before the kitchen counter. Fried eggs, bread, hot milk—nothing was missing, and she had even set out Irene's favorite jam.
"Why did you get up so early?" Irene couldn't help but ask. "I could have managed on my own today."
Mary didn't turn around, only letting out a chuckle. "I can't stay idle. Besides, today is a big day."
She turned around, her gaze lingering on her daughter for a mont as if confirming sothing, and then nodded with satisfaction.
"Who would have thought that the mud-covered reckless girl from back then would now be standing on the investiture stage."
Irene was stunned for a mont, then burst into laughter.
After breakfast, Mary began helping her pack her bags.
"Do you have your ID? The Academy of Sciences badge? Where did you put {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} your spare gloves? The wind in the North is much colder than here; don't forget your shawl."
Irene took her mother's hand and said softly, "I have everything."
She hesitated for a mont before asking, "Are you really not coming to Red Tide City with ? Lord Louis specifically reserved a seat for family mbers for you."
Mary shook her head, a smile on her lips, though her eyes were slightly red.
"I'm old; I can't handle the airship ride," she said softly. "Besides... it's enough for you young people to go."
She looked at Irene, her expression suddenly turning serious. "When you get to Red Tide City and see Lord Louis, say thank you on behalf of our whole family.
Tell the Lord that without him, our family might have long ago beco nothing more than naless bleached bones on the northern wilderness."
Irene's throat tightened. She nodded, saying nothing more.
In the hearts of her mother's generation, Louis was never just the Head of State of the Republic.
"I will, Mother. I will tell the Lord personally."
After saying goodbye to her mother, Irene pushed open the front door.
The morning air carried a hint of chill, yet it was clean and stable.
She headed down the stairs and encountered a commune worker sweeping the street at the entrance.
The worker pushed a cleaning cart, moving at an unhurried pace.
The two nodded to each other.
"Good morning, Comrade."
"Good morning."
The tone was natural, without forced enthusiasm or social awkwardness.
There was still plenty of ti, so Irene didn't call for a dedicated public car. Instead, as was her habit, she walked across the People's Square.
The stone slabs of the square had just been washed, and water marks still remained in the drainage ditches at the edges.
Workers doing their morning exercises had finished their warm-ups; so were jogging, while others were doing strength training on simple equipnt. They all nodded in greeting when they saw her.
A crowd had already gathered in front of the newspaper rack at a corner of the square.
Irene noticed that those huddled there were not just researchers in academy uniforms, but also many porters and technicians in work clothes.
Soone pointed to a section of text on the page, discussing improvent plans for a new conduction structure in low voices.
The "Truth Bulletin" was printed every day before dawn and hit the shelves in the morning.
Nine years of compulsory education had completely ended the era of obscurantism. Literacy was no longer a privilege of the few but the starting point for every citizen.
As Irene passed one area, she saw an activity room through an open window.
Several elderly people were gathered around a chessboard discussing the ga, while on the other side, soone wearing reading glasses was earnestly flipping through a basic arithtic textbook. A schedule for the "Sunset Glow Literacy Advancent Class" was posted on the wall.
They no longer went to churches to pray for their fate, nor did they need to bow to any idols.
A retired veteran had set up a breakfast stall at a street corner.
On the heater, affordable sausages sizzled loudly.
His movents were practiced as he handed toasted bread to the custors in line, occasionally chatting with acquaintances.
There were no knights running rampant here, nor was there harsh exploitation.
He only needed to pay a minimal stall fee to the commune on ti to operate in peace, while also enjoying the retirent and dical security provided by the Republic.
This was the world he had fought for.
Groups of youths carrying schoolbags walked toward their schools in class order; the lines were not noisy, yet they were full of vitality.
"I want to be an engineer at the Hamilton Steam Center in the future!"
"I want to go to the Southern Commune to research high-yield wheat!"
They argued until they were red in the face, yet no one ntioned noble titles or knightly dals.
The definition of a hero was no longer confined to the battlefield.
Irene knew very well that all this prosperity was not a gift from the gods.
Louis had spent forty years weaving scattered refugees into a tight-knit class collective.
He used a rigorous and stable rule of law to replace the capricious power of the crown.
He used a standardized education system to replace the monopoly of bloodline and birth.
People had learned to walk with their heads held high, not needing to fear the powerful, but only needing to revere truth itself.
This civilizational self-respect was the most precious asset Louis had left to this world... Irene arrived at the Capital Central Airport and stood before the observation window of the heavy airship, The Truth.
Outside the window, the massive silver gasbag shimred with a soft luster under the morning sun.
The airship rose smoothly. The sound of the wind was sealed away by thick acoustic layers, leaving only the low vibration of the engines.
From high above, the Old Imperial Capital appeared prosperous and complete, its blocks laid out like a chessboard.
But in Irene's heart, this place was always just the administrative hub, not the location of the soul.
The true center was Red Tide City in the North. Although it wasn't the capital due to its geographical location, everyone knew it was the Republic's true starting point.
Lord Louis had once ordered that the original dod houses and the crude alchemy workshops be preserved.
This was to remind future generations that modern life didn't just fall from the sky.
The airship headed north. Below the clouds, the contours of the land gradually beca clear.
Irene's gaze fell upon a vast plain, and her heart tightened slightly.
Forty years ago, that was still a place known as the "Dark Gold Wasteland."
The traces of the Old Emperor's rampage had not yet fully vanished; the land looked like scorched slag, where not a single blade of grass grew.
Now, the landscape had been completely reconstructed. Vast arrays of white blades rotated slowly on the surface, reflecting light amidst the mist.
Those were Magitech Wind Turbines, thousands of them arranged along the wind's path, converting invisible currents into stable energy pulses that were sent to surrounding town workshops through an underground conduction network.
Irene's fingertips tightened unconsciously.
Twelve years ago, she had been one of the senior leads for this public welfare project.
Those nights of calculations, experints, and repeated corrections had now transford into this orderly white ocean beneath her feet.
This was her way of repaying this land and the Red Tide Republic.
The airship passed through the year-round sea of clouds in the North.
The clouds suddenly parted, and a massive statue of a knight burst into view.
It was a figure cast from teoric iron, symbolizing the will of the knights who sacrificed themselves to save the world.
A longsword pointed diagonally toward the firmant, the lines of the cloak frozen in the wind and snow, yet appearing as if they were still snapping in the gale.
Forty years of wind and frost had not made it bow its head.
There were no prompts inside the cabin, yet the sound of conversation naturally ceased at that mont. Passengers rose one after another to stand in solemn silence.
The elderly touched the sun badges on their chests, while the young straightened their backs, their gazes crossing the windows to look toward that city.
Irene's vision blurred for a mont. She raised her hand to her chest and took a deep breath.
Red Tide City was just ahead.
User Comments
0 comments from readers