Malin stepped onto the platform, looking at the soldiers in front of him from the Northerner legion, who were clapping incessantly because they believed in themselves.
With trust, Malin began to speak: "You, you young men followed your fathers to Carterburg years ago. At that time, you were scantily dressed, noses running, and it was I who gave your fathers work. You grew up, you came of age, and ultimately chose to join my factory guard, finally accepting reorganization to become my soldiers, mine!"
The soldiers cheered; they really liked that Malin called them his soldiers.
Because that way, they could be distinguished from the soldiers in the north, and only in that way would those oppressive gendarmes not dare to lash them.
Moreover, because they saw with their own eyes, if their fathers hadn't gone south, it would be them facing despair today.
