Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 884 - 477: Forty Years Later

At six in the morning, the residential areas of the capital gradually awakened to the lingering and steady chimes of bells.

When Yini opened her eyes, the night had just faded outside the window.

Soft sunlight lay over the marble floor, forming neat and tranquil patches of light.

Today is not an ordinary day.

It is the fortieth anniversary of the Republic of Red Tide, and the day she, as a representative of the Academy of Sciences, was invited to Red Tide City to attend the award ceremony.

Yini was born in the Northern Territory, her father was a captain in the Broken Blade Knight Order, who later joined the Red Tide ranks to become one of the first knights to lay down arms and transition into the new system.

This allowed her to enter a complete education system, from basic school, workshop internships, to the preparatory class at the Academy of Sciences, step by step to where she is now.

She didn’t think of herself as having extraordinary talent, just that she understood earlier than others a simple truth: the world had begun to reward learning and patience.

Now she is one of the academicians in the field of magus-mechanics, chosen to be an awardee for the fortieth anniversary.

On the other side of the bed, her husband John was still asleep.

John is an engineer in the Red Tide Heavy Industry Department, responsible for the stable design of large energy transmission structures.

His parents were among the first serfs liberated in Red Tide Territory, now residing in a well-facilitated apartment area, occasionally debating over their grandchildren’s school work.

Yini did not wake him, but quietly got up.

Opening the window, the city’s outline stretched out completely.

The streets clean and straight, the traffic lights at intersections changing in an orderly manner, and in the low-altitude tracks, early morning transport crafts silently glided along fixed routes.

Neighbors had already begun their morning exercises, some jogging, others with children doing basic physical stretches in open spaces.

She quickly freshened up, changed into formal wear, and when she entered the living room, a familiar aroma greeted her.

Her mother, Mary, was already awake.

The seventy-something-year-old was standing at the kitchen counter, frying eggs, bread, hot milk, not missing anything, even setting out her favorite jam.

"Why did you get up so early?" Yini couldn’t help but speak up, "I can handle it myself today."

Mary didn’t look back, just laughed softly: "Can’t stay idle. Besides, today is a big day."

She turned around, her gaze lingering on her daughter for a moment, as if confirming something, then nodded in satisfaction.

"Never thought that clumsy kid covered in mud back in the day could now stand on the award stage."

Yini was taken aback by the words, then burst into a smile.

After having breakfast, Mary began to help her pack.

"Did you bring your documents? What about the Academy badge? Where did you put the spare gloves? The wind is much colder in the Northern Territory than here, don’t forget your shawl."

Yini took her mother’s hand, saying softly, "I have everything."

She hesitated a moment, then asked: "Aren’t you coming with me to Red Tide City? Lord Louis specially reserved a family seat for you."

Mary shook her head, smiling, while her eyes glistened slightly.

"I’m old, can’t sit still in an airship." she said lightly, "Besides... it’s better for you young people to go."

She looked at Yini, suddenly becoming serious: "When you get to Red Tide City and meet Lord Louis, say thank you on behalf of our family.

Tell the Lord that without him, our family might have long become mere nameless corpses in the wilderness of the Northern Territory."

Yini’s throat tightened, she nodded, saying nothing more.

In her mother’s generation, Louis was never just the head of the Republic.

"I will, Mother, I will tell him in person."

With a farewell to her mother, Yini opened her front door.

The morning air had a hint of chill, yet it was clean and steady.

She descended the stairs, encountering a community worker cleaning the street at the entrance.

The person pushed the cleaning cart, moving unhurriedly.

They nodded to each other.

"Good morning, comrade."

"Good morning."

Their tone was natural, with neither deliberate enthusiasm nor hierarchical reserve.

With time on her side, Yini didn’t call for a special public car, instead walking through People’s Square as usual.

The square’s slabs had just been washed, the drainage ditches at the edges still bore water marks.

Workers finishing morning exercises were now either jogging or doing strength training on simple equipment, nodding to her in greeting as they passed.

A crowd had already gathered at the news bulletin corner of the square.

Yini noticed that among those gathered were not only researchers in academy uniforms but also many porters and technicians in work clothes.

Someone pointed to a section of text on the page, discussing the improvement plan for a new type of transmission structure in hushed tones.

The "Truth Gazette" was printed every early morning, and hit the stands by dawn.

Nine years of compulsory education had thoroughly ended the age of ignorance; literacy was no longer a privilege of the few but the starting point for every citizen.

As Yini passed by one place, she noticed through an open window the activity room inside.

Several elderly men were discussing moves around a chessboard, while others were wearing reading glasses, seriously flipping through basic arithmetic textbooks, and a schedule for the "Evening Red Literacy Advancement Class" was pasted on the wall.

They no longer prayed to fate in church, nor did they need to bow to any idol.

On a street corner, a retired veteran had set up a breakfast stand.

The grill crackled with sizzling affordable sausages.

He moved skillfully, handing grilled bread to queued customers, occasionally chatting with familiar faces.

There were no knights wreaking havoc here, nor any harsh exploitation.

He only needed to pay a very low stall fee to the community on time to continue his business, enjoying the retirement and healthcare benefits provided by the Republic.

This was the world he had fought for.

Rows of teenagers moved toward school in class formation, their ranks orderly yet filled with energy.

"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 intensely, but no one mentioned noble titles or knightly honors.

The definition of a hero had long ceased to be confined to the battlefield.

Yini understood well that this prosperity was not a gift from heaven.

Louis spent forty years weaving refugees, scattered like sand, into a tight-knit class collective.

He replaced the capricious imperial power with strict and stable rule of law.

Replaced the monopoly of bloodline and birth with a standardized education system.

People learned to hold their heads high while walking, not fearing the nobility, but respecting the truth itself.

This civilizational self-respect was the most precious legacy Louis left to this world.

......

Yini arrived at the Central Air Harbor of the capital, standing by the viewing window of the Truth heavy airship.

Outside the porthole, the great silver airbag glistened softly in the morning sun.

The airship ascended smoothly into the air, the wind noise silenced by thick soundproofing layers, leaving only the low hum of the engines.

From a high vantage point, the old Imperial Capital appeared prosperous and intact, its neighborhoods laid out like a chessboard.

But in Yini’s heart, this place was always just the management hub, not the soul’s residence.

The true center was Red Tide City in the Northern Territory, though not the capital because of its geographic location, everyone knew it was the real starting point of the Republic.

Lord Louis had once ordered to preserve the original house and the simple Alchemy Workshop.

To remind future generations that modern life didn’t fall from the sky.

The airship headed north, and beneath the clouds, the earth’s contours gradually clarified.

Yini’s gaze fell on a vast plain, her heart tightened slightly.

Forty years ago, that was a place once called "Dark Gold Wasteland."

The scars of the old Emperor’s rampage had not yet fully vanished; the land, like scorched mineral slag, was barren.

But now the landscape had been thoroughly reconfigured, patches of white blades slowly rotated on the ground, reflecting light among the clouds.

These were magus wind turbines, numbering in the thousands, aligned with the wind, converting intangible airflow into stable energy pulses, transmitted through subterranean networks to neighboring urban workshops.

Yini’s fingertips involuntarily clenched.

Twelve years ago, she was a senior responsible party for this civil project.

Those nights of calculations, experiments, and endless revisions, now transformed into this orderly operating white sea beneath.

This was her way of repaying the land and the Republic of Red Tide.

The airship broke through the perpetual northern cloud sea.

The clouds suddenly parted, and a colossal knight statue emerged from the sky.

This was a figure cast from meteoric iron, symbolizing the knightly spirit sacrificed to save the world.

The longsword pointed obliquely to the heavens, the cloak’s lines frozen amidst the wind and snow, yet seemed to still flutter in the air.

Forty years of winds and frosts did not bow it down.

Inside the cabin, there were no announcements, yet the conversation naturally hushed, passengers rose to stand solemnly.

The elders caressed the sun emblem on their chests, while the young straightened their spines, their gaze crossing the porthole, looking toward the direction of the city.

Yini’s vision blurred for a moment, she raised her hand to her chest, taking a deep breath.

Red Tide City was just ahead.