Chapter 80: Chapter 80: Worlds Apart
Duke Edmund’s promotion of Louis was not merely because he fought brilliantly; there were deeper considerations involved.
In this campaign, too many Pioneer Nobles from the South died, arousing dissatisfaction among the Southern nobles.
Everyone knew well that those dandies came to the Northern Territory merely to fulfill a task and seek lands.
But when a bunch of them dies all at once, it’s hard to explain away, inevitably making others suspect that the Northern Lords were deliberately "using a borrowed knife to kill."
Promoting Louis, a Baron of Expansion from the South, was the best response.
It’s not the North being exclusionary; it’s that you are too incompetent.
If you had half his skill, you would have survived and achieved merits long ago.
Instead, Louis picked up the slack from others.
So, Louis calmly stepped down from the high platform.
His stride was unhurried, as if what he had just received wasn’t the medal and glory eagerly sought by the nobility, but rather some inconsequential daily ceremony.
Yet wherever he passed, the nobles gazed at him, their eyes filled with undisguised envy.
No one now dared to underestimate this nineteen-year-old baron.
The awards continued.
The names of the awarded nobles were called out one by one, but they were all names unfamiliar to Louis.
Basically, they were all old nobles from the Northern Territory; Pioneer Nobles from the South were very few.
Until the military officer’s voice rang out again: "Baron Jorn Tahavi, second-class military merit."
Sitting in the back row, Yorn almost jumped from his chair, snapping to full alert, his face written with "I too got something!?"
"Reward of two thousand Gold Coins, with an addition of one hundred square kilometers of land..."
Yorn patted his thigh while being moved to tears, "Hugging the boss’s thigh really is the smartest choice in life!"
Though his journey was just tagging along, hiding at the back as a cheerleader, without even touching the real battlefield.
But his knights truly contributed in the battle at Qingyu Ridge.
Who would have thought he could sponge off military merit and earn such a big reward?
He felt like he had just casually bought a lottery ticket and ended up hitting the jackpot.
Yorn gave himself a thumbs-up in his heart, not disappointing his astute choice in picking the right thigh to hold onto.
After the director finishes reading the long commendation list, the military officer flips over the parchment, his tone suddenly cold:
"Commendations concluded. Next, a report on those who failed their military duties."
The hall instantly quieted down, even the nobles engaging in low-voiced conversations closed their mouths.
Iron Armor knights paced slowly in, escorting several officers in noble-standard uniforms through the rear door.
Their faces pale, still murmuring defensively, their eyes glancing around in fear.
Among them, Louis recognized one: a head of golden-brown curls, looking disheveled—none other than Zachary Diaz.
Many Pioneer Nobles from the South exchanged glances, their eyes flashing with surprise and subtle schadenfreude.
While Yorn, sitting in the back row, was already laughing uncontrollably, muttering, "Still want to compete with the boss? Now one is in heaven and one in earth, likes to play tricks, now the retribution is here."
He initially thought Zachary would just be fined, never expecting things to escalate to having his name on the disciplinary list.
The military officer announced emotionlessly in a cold voice:
"Zachary Diaz, former commander of the western line defense zone in Snow Eagle City. On the day the war broke out, fled in the face of battle, abandoned the city and fled. Verified truth by the Military Discipline Department, unforgivable crime, sentenced to death."
With the words spoken, Zachary suddenly struggled backward, his eyes full of fear and despair.
"No! I wasn’t fleeing! It was... a tactical retreat! My father is Duke Diaz! I’m from the Eight Great Clans! You can’t kill me! I’m willing to pay the fine... I’m willing to..."
Before he finished, a heavy slap landed on his face, knocking him to the ground with blood seeping out of his lips.
Below the stage, the people mumbled coldly:
"Still think you’re in the South? That stuff doesn’t work here."
"Eight Great Clans? In the North doesn’t mean anything."
"Deserter... dying also saves face for the family."
Zachary continued to scream and cry while being dragged away, his voice filled with complete breakdown.
His once proud and handsome face, now twisted like a stray dog, lost any semblance of noble dignity.
Yet Louis, sitting in the front row, simply watched silently.
He sat upright, the Shield of the North Medal symbolizing glory displayed proudly on his chest.
Two pioneer noble sons from the Eight Great Noble Clans from Snow Peak County.
One was dragged to the execution ground, crying and begging.
One was personally awarded a medal, crowned with honor.
A world apart.
Finally, Duke Edmund stepped onto the platform: "I’ll be brief; this campaign, we did very well.
Next year we will advance further, won’t passively defend anymore, the Northern Territory will actively attack the base of the Snow Swearers."
His voice was not high, but the determination was incomparable: "Snow Swearers must be completely annihilated!
Your military merits, I have noted. Next time, I want to see more names written on the achievement record."
With these words, the hall erupted in fervent responses.
The post-war celebration ceremony officially ended.
Louis didn’t leave Frost Halberd City immediately, as there was a banquet at night.
Socializing with other nobles was his necessary task; his foundation in the Northern Territory was really weak, he had to seize this chance to befriended useful nobles.
And for a young noble who had just made great achievements, tonight was destined not to be quiet.
Sure enough, as the banquet just started, Louis hadn’t even picked up his wine glass when he was already surrounded.
The first to approach was a middle-aged noble dressed impeccably, with neatly trimmed sideburns.
From his accent, it was obvious he was a Pioneer Noble from the Southwest of the Empire.
With a hint of familiarity, he said, "Duke Calvin’s son, indeed a tiger father with no dog son. To earn such military merit in the Northern Territory, truly admirable."
He proceeded to introduce himself as a Baron of Expansion from a small noble family in the Southwest.
Like Louis, he was among the first batch of noble scions to respond to the expansion decree and come to the Northern Territory.
"To be honest, life isn’t very good for us Southerners here," he whispered, "If the lord is willing to lead the brothers, everyone definitely won’t let you lose face."
That phrase "lead the brothers" sounded almost like a plea, with a tone of eagerness and a bit of flattery.
Louis maintained an impassive expression, yet felt a slight stir in his heart.
He wasn’t oblivious; the baron’s implication was clear: Southerners ought to band together, with Louis as the leader.
Truthfully, the idea was somewhat tempting.
But having just established a footing, forming factions too early would easily provoke jealousy.
Not to mention the baron’s background and his actual capabilities and character, which were all unknown.
"You’ve spoken well. The Northern Territory is ablaze with war; we are in the same boat." Louis raised his glass with a smile, skillfully deflecting, "Should there be a chance, we will certainly conspire for development."
Sounded warm, but without any real commitment.
The middle-aged baron wanted to say more, his mouth just opened, and his grip on the wine glass barely steady.
Then other nobles continuously crowded forward.