Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 885 - 478: Louis Calvin

When the morning sun fully rose, the Republic Heroes Memorial Square was covered in crimson.

Countless flags unfurled in the wind, interweaving shades of red, forming a surging sea of fire.

As the cries of nearly a million people converged above the square, the air seemed to be pressed down.

This will, gathered from the common people, was far more heart-wrenching than the roar of the Dragon Emperor from years past.

At the forefront of the square, seats were reserved for the honorees, and Yini stood here.

These individuals were the backbone of an era.

Yini’s gaze fell on an elderly man among them.

Marshal Lambert sat in a wheelchair, his figure much smaller than in the memories.

The wide marshal’s uniform on his frame seemed somewhat empty.

His hands rested quietly on his knees, skin filled with mottled wrinkles, like a map repeatedly folded by time.

But when he raised his head, looking towards the end of the square, his eyes were still sharp, just as they were when facing the dragon years ago.

Beside him sat General Weir.

Though nearing seventy, he sat straight, not as a result of forced posture, but as a natural instinct developed over many years.

The general’s entire life was dedicated to one task: protecting Lord Louis.

Looking further back, young Hamilton sat with a straight back.

In his hand was a giant gear wrench with an exaggerated design, symbolizing the chief engineer.

Yini remembered the day the great Hamilton passed away, when the entire Republic fell silent.

The man had devoted his entire health to steam machinery, leading to his early death before the age of forty.

Now, this dedication was passed on to his apprentice and adopted son.

It was these so-called technology enthusiasts who turned the once inaccessible magic energy into a resource as common as the air.

Light entered the underground spaces closed for millennia, darkness no longer seen as fate.

On the other side, Ed was adjusting his collar.

His theory on high-pressure differential water circulation caused industrial costs in remote areas to plummet, giving newfound hope to lands once deemed destined to be barren.

Physician Green stood at the end of the scientists’ line.

His name was repeatedly mentioned in the medical system; fifteen years of research brought hope for curing the Dragon Blood Syndrome.

Yini stood in her position, having observed ninety-nine honorees in the same row, of varying ages; she suddenly understood that the true strength of the Republic never lay in the power of one individual.

Knights would grow old, geniuses would exit the stage.

But as long as there were those who passed on experience to the next generation.

This torrent named Red Tide would not cease due to anyone’s departure.

It would continue forward.

......

The sound of ceremonial cannons echoed forty times over Red Tide City Square during the medal ceremony.

When the heavy castle gate slowly opened, the million-strong venue, after hours of clamoring, swiftly fell silent.

In the past decade or more, Louis Calvin had seldom appeared in public.

For the Republic’s new generation, he was more present in the front pages of textbooks, city statues, and the daily circulated currency.

For those from the old era, he was a real and great person.

So, when that figure truly stood in the sunlight, the entire Red Tide City seemed to undergo a silent tremor.

"Lord Louis — long live!"

The first shout came from Marshal Lambert’s hoarse voice.

"Long live Lord Louis!"

Then, millions of voices merged into a torrent, soaring into the sky.

The crimson flags surged in the square, people waved their arms, tears uncontrollably flowing.

Louis Calvin, waving with one hand, walked down the steps with a cane.

At seventy-two, his white hair neatly combed back, eye corners filled with marks of time, he wore a simply tailored Republic suit.

In Yini’s view, this elder no longer resembled the youthful image in her mind.

More like a mentor patiently solving problems in a study or a senior concerned about the harvest on a field ridge.

He stopped in front of the wheelchair.

Marshal Lambert sat there, his figure appearing frail.

The body that once upheld the Republic’s defense line now only had a rigid skeleton.

Louis bent down, personally pinning a fortieth-anniversary commemorative medal on him.

"Lambert." His voice was low, near the elder’s ear, "Do you remember? When I was sent to the Northern Territory, I was just a child who knew nothing.

At that time, you stood behind me. If back then, you hadn’t been willing to enter the Northern Territory with me, if you hadn’t shielded me from the first storm, there would be no Red Tide today."

He straightened the slightly loose collar of the elder.

The legendary knight, who had never shed a tear on countless battlefields at ninety years old, now sobbed uncontrollably like a child.

Tears fell along his wrinkle-filled cheeks, he put all his strength to lift his hand for a knight’s salute, but could only tightly grasp the wheelchair’s armrest.

Louis merely gave his shoulder a gentle pat.

Then he moved forward, pinning medals on one contributor after another, engaging in simple conversation with them.

When facing the young engineers of the magic energy group, he paused for a moment, saying simply: "Don’t let the wheels of progress stop."

The young people nodded vigorously, throats tight.

Facing the doctor who conquered the Dragon Blood Syndrome, Louis’s gaze softened: "Life itself is the highest truth, thank you for allowing those who would wither to continue thriving."

No lengthy speeches, no ornate words, yet it made people stand tall.

When it was Yini’s turn to stand before Louis, her hands trembled slightly uncontrollably.

The elder paused, not immediately pinning the medal on her, staring for a moment, as if searching for a well-preserved old memory.

"Yini..." Louis slowly began, his voice not high, "I remember you, and your father Smith, knight of the Broken Blade Knight Order."

Yini’s throat tightened.

"One year, he asked me a question in the Northern Territory." The old man’s tone was steady, words distinct, "He asked if this world would really get better."

Louis extended his hand, pinning the golden Sun Medal steadily onto Yini’s chest.

"Today, with your laboratory, with those wind power towers standing out in the wilderness, you answered his question."

Looking at her with gentle eyes, Louis said: "Yini, you did excellently, you did not let down Red Tide, and Red Tide will not let you down either."

In that moment, Yini could no longer maintain any restraint.

The chief academician, known for her calmness in the Academy of Sciences, cried profusely under the gaze of millions.

And after bestowing medals upon the ninety-nine Red Tide Republic outstanding representatives, Louis turned, facing the surging sea of red.

He did not recount the past of slaying dragons nor review the hardships in the Northern Territory.

He simply raised his hand to point below the stage, towards those ordinary people wearing work clothes, school uniforms, and white coats.

"Comrades." His voice, amplified through the sound array, clearly spread across the entire city, "This world has never belonged solely to me, Louis Calvin.

Nor to those false gods long turned to dust, it belongs to every thinker and every laborer willing to work.

The essence of Red Tide has never been killing and conquest, but to allow everyone, regardless of origin, to stand tall and live with dignity under the sun, no longer as food for anyone."

He paused for a moment.

"Long live the people!"

As his words fell, thousands of fireworks simultaneously burst over Red Tide City.

The colorful lights illuminated the square, the statue in silver armor and red cape, and the snowy white hair of Louis.

"Long live Lord Louis!"

"Long live the Red Tide Republic!"

The shouts rose one after another.

Yini stood among the crowd, watching the elder slowly turn, walking into the shadows of the castle.