novelnext Chapter 836 - 454: Before the Parade Begins
Chapter 836 - 454: Before the Parade Begins
The early summer sunlight pierced through the thin morning mist of the Northern Territory.
From a high vantage point, the stands surrounding the first parade ground of Red Tide Territory were already overflowing with crowds.
This wasn’t a chaotic and noisy refugee camp but a slowly undulating sea of people.
Rows of dark cotton clothes swayed gently in the wind, like unending tides, stretching to the horizon.
Even in the distance, the hillsides, bare ridges, and tree branches were filled with human figures.
To secure a vantage point with a clear view of the parade, some had set up camp here three days in advance.
Yet the air was free of any sour decay, replaced by the aroma of baked potatoes heated by charcoal, the faint sizzle of butter melting on an iron plate, and the unique sweetness of malt sugar wafting in the morning breeze.
Vendors weaved through the crowd, carrying wooden boxes on their shoulders. As soon as the lids were opened, children flocked around them.
Nearly everyone was dressed in thick and clean cotton clothing.
Dark cotton clothes, not exactly luxurious in cut, yet sturdy and well-fitting.
These were standard goods woven in batches by the Red Tide Textile Factory, unaffordable to commoners in the Southern Province, yet just ordinary everyday wear here.
The patched, oily linen of the old era had long been relegated to memory.
But the more obvious change was written on their faces.
These were faces that were full and vibrant, no longer with sunken eye sockets or protruding cheekbones.
The stamina from a diet rich in meat and fats allowed them to stand with naturally relaxed shoulders and straight backs.
It’s a posture only those not worried about tomorrow would have.
A sturdy father lifted his daughter onto his shoulders.
The little girl held onto his neatly trimmed hair with one hand, waving a small flag with a sun emblem with the other, her cheeks adorned with red stickers, screaming with excitement.
The father tilted his head back, letting his child sway on his shoulders, his face openly showing pride.
In one corner of the crowd, a family of three stood particularly quiet.
They were a craftsman family from the Gray Rock Province that migrated to Red Tide Territory two years ago.
The father had once improved steam pistons in the workshops of Gray Rock and was later recruited to Red Tide, now a formal resident.
The child clutched a string of sugar-glazed berries, a treat he’d only heard of in tales of noble banquets before.
The man’s hand unconsciously rubbed his new cotton coat, fingers caressing the fabric’s texture repeatedly, as if afraid it would all vanish if he let go.
The woman’s eyes turned slightly red; instead of looking at the center of the parade ground, she gazed towards the distant castle, hands clasped in silent prayer.
A few years ago, they were worried about the heavy taxes from the Remont Clan, even secretly discussing whether to hang themselves together.
Now, they stood in the sunlight, stomachs full of fine bread, the child’s mouth still stained with sugar glaze.
For them, Louis was more than an abstract title of lord; he was the Savior who kept them fed and warm.
Among the crowd, there were also many outsiders.
Merchants from the Northern Territory, wandering knights from other regions, and even some small nobles from the South.
They too had dressed themselves neatly, striving to emulate the attire and behavior of the Red Tide residents, hoping one day to be accepted by this land.
Low murmurs of conversation swirled in the air.
The Red Tide populace was not ignorant.
The spread of night schools and literacy made them exceptionally aware of happenings outside.
"Have you heard? The iron factory has developed the third generation of steam war chariots."
"Those iron beasts that can move on their own and spew fire?"
"Shhh! My second uncle works there... but I can’t say more."
The topic quickly shifted to the South.
"Those damned bastards from the Church Court are actually daring to cut off our grain routes?"
A retired knight missing an arm stood in the crowd, the remaining hand clenched in a fist. "My life was saved by the lord. Anyone dares harm him, I’ll fight to the death!"
No one was afraid of war.
On the contrary, there was an almost burning anticipation in the air.
They knew better than anyone who granted them this dream-like life.
But since they’ve only lived well for a decade, they feared being dragged back to the hell of hunger, cold, and being at the mercy of others.
......
Countless gazes turned in unison towards the center of the parade ground.
Gray stood on the command post in the center of the parade ground.
He donned a new pure black officer’s ceremonial uniform, sharply tailored, without any excess adornments.
His chest, however, was adorned with heavy medals, marks of the past four years of battles, the most prominent being the Gray Rock Conquest Medal and the first-class Sun of the Red Tide medal for highest military achievement.
His hair was meticulously groomed, the hairline as if measured with a ruler.
On that still-young face, the boyish innocence was hard to find.
The authority from long-term command settled like an invisible armor, calmly covering his brows and eyes.
Only he knew this composure wasn’t entirely genuine.
He repeatedly adjusted his collar and instinctively tugged at the edge of his white gloves, ensuring every fold was neat and proper.
His left hand on the command sword was still trembling imperceptibly.
As the chief commander of this parade, he knew better than anyone what stood behind him.