It had been exactly one month since Louis arrived in the Red Tide Territory.
He now stood upon a hastily erected wooden platform, gazing down at the people assembled before him. Twelve knights clad in iron armor stood in two rows, their posture uniform and rigid, enhancing the Lord's imposing presence in the flickering firelight.
"Woo!"
The shrill blast of a horn split the night sky.
The Red Tide Territory's Commendation Ceremony had officially begun.
Over thirty knights of the territory dropped to one knee. With their left fists pressed to their chests and their right hands gripping their knight's swords, they chanted in perfect unison the oath Louis had written for them:
"We believe in the Dragon Ancestor and follow the Lord of the Red Tide!
Loyal to Louis Calvin, we swear to defend the glory of the Red Tide with our blood and sweat!"
Their powerful voices echoed across the square.
Then came a thunderous wave of cheers. Soldiers pounded their shields, farmers raised hoes and staffs, and children joined in with excited cries. The once-quiet night was now filled with pride and reverberating energy.
Louis raised his hand slightly.
The crowd gradually quieted, and all eyes turned to the young Lord standing tall atop the platform.
Louis began slowly, his voice calm but resolute. "It has been one month since we arrived in the Red Tide Territory. A month ago, this place was still a barren, desolate wilderness. Since then, we have endured poverty, hunger, bitter winds, heavy snow, and even wild beast attacks."
He paused, letting his gaze pass across the crowd.
"But now, we have overcome the first stage of crisis—and it is thanks to you."
His voice strengthened, filled with sincerity.
"It was you who built the first warm shelters, allowing children and the elderly to sleep safe from the biting wind.
It was you who caught the first river fish, feeding your hungry brothers and sisters.
It was you who reclaimed the first plot of land and sowed the first seeds, giving this land hope."
"All of this," Louis declared, his voice rising with passion, "is because of you. Your sweat has brought life to this frozen land!"
In the crowd, people clenched their fists, their eyes welling with emotion. When had any lord ever credited commoners before? In the past, they were lucky just to avoid being whipped.
Louis's eyes swept the entire square.
"Of course, where there is merit, there will be reward. In the Red Tide Territory, no matter your origin—whether noble or slave—if you are diligent and loyal, you will be recognized.
Today, I will honor the heroes who have made exceptional contributions to our land."
The crowd instantly fell silent. Every person held their breath, eyes fixed on the platform.
"Agriculture Official Mick."
A middle-aged man with a hunched back stepped forward. His old, mud-stained boots slipped slightly on the wooden stairs, but when he looked up at Louis, his crooked spine straightened as if by instinct.
"Mick," Louis announced, "you improved our farming techniques and brought vitality to this barren land."
He gestured toward the distant farmland that now showed promising signs of growth.
"Therefore, I hereby promote you to Agriculture General Manager, granting you greater authority over farmland operations and awarding you an extra plot of land for experimental planting."
Tears streamed down Mick's cheeks. "Thank you, my Lord."
The crowd burst into warm applause. Many farmers cheered his name with joy.
"Craftsman Representative Mac."
An old man with deeply tanned skin walked up, his expression proud.
"Your architectural talents made our homes stronger and warmer, establishing the foundation of our territory."
Louis pointed to the ring of semi-subterranean dwellings that now surrounded the square.
"As such, I grant you command over the artisan teams, along with expanded resources for development."
Mac's voice trembled as he responded, "I won't let you down, my Lord!"
"Fisheries Official Luke..."
One by one, more than ten individuals were summoned to the stage. Their roles varied—knights, artisans, hunters, farmers—and many of them came from humble origins. Some had once been slaves.
Each recipient received a handmade labor medal, carved from wood by a skilled carpenter under Louis's orders. Though simple, the medals were treated as priceless treasures. The honored individuals clutched them with reverence, terrified they might drop and shatter them.
After the final medal was awarded, Louis stepped forward and addressed the crowd:
"These individuals have offered their blood and sweat to bring prosperity to the Red Tide Territory. Let us thank them—with applause!"
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Thunderous applause echoed again. The awardees stood tall, tears in their eyes, their medals catching the bonfire's glow. They were fishermen, hunters, builders—ordinary people who, for the first time in their lives, stood beneath the eyes of a grateful crowd.
At that moment, if Louis had asked them to face death, they would have followed without hesitation.
"And for everyone else who has worked tirelessly," Louis continued, "let us offer them applause as well."
Another wave of clapping swept across the square—this time not for those on the platform, but for every man, woman, and child present.
Everyone had contributed, in their own way, to building something greater.
Louis's gaze now turned to a quieter part of the square, where people stood in rags, slave brands still visible on their arms or necks. They lowered their heads, their eyes filled with uncertainty—but also with a flicker of hope.
"Today," Louis announced, his tone solemn, "I fulfill another of my promises."
A sudden stillness blanketed the square. The slaves' breathing grew rapid, and even the wind seemed to pause.
"The following individuals..."
He began to recite names. They were slaves—men and women—who had excelled in construction, labor, farming, and other services in the past month. Those called looked stunned. Disbelief painted their faces. Only after being nudged by those nearby did they step forward, trembling.
"You are officially granted your freedom today."
Louis waved his hand. A group of knights stepped forward and burned the slave certificates.
The newly freed individuals fell to their knees, weeping and kowtowing, thanking Louis with unfiltered emotion.
Meanwhile, those who remained enslaved gazed on with complex expressions—envy, regret, longing—but above all, hope.
Louis's voice rang out once more:
"Loyalty and talent are more important than lineage.
From today, the Red Tide Territory establishes a formal reward system.
Anyone who contributes will be rewarded accordingly!"
The crowd could no longer contain itself.
Cheers erupted again. For the first time, the idea of rising beyond one's birth was not a distant dream but a tangible future—something that could be earned through effort, not just inherited by blood.
Louis raised his cup high.
"To the prosperity of the Red Tide Territory—cheers!"
The cup's contents shimmered with the bonfire's reflection, glowing like molten gold.
"Cheers!"
Voices rose in unison. Cups clinked. Hope surged. The night sky roared with celebration.
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