Chapter 131 – Honor and New Promises
Fenrir Eisenwald, now formally bearing the title of Viscount, returned from the imperial capital of Luminaria. His small procession cut across the long stone road toward Eisenwald, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of disciplined hooves.
At his side rode Kael Morgenstern, the Wandering Knight who had become Fenrir's right hand. Twenty of the best Crimson Knights, handpicked as personal guards, surrounded them in perfect formation.
Along the road, the people of Eisenwald gathered in droves. Their eyes reflected awe, reverence, and relief. The red banner of Eisenwald, emblazoned with the symbol of the Crimson Wolf, fluttered proudly in the spring breeze. They were not simply welcoming a lord back—they were greeting the man who had brought glory by crushing three barons and lifting Eisenwald into the heart of imperial politics.
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When the procession reached the town square, the great bell tolled three times. Crowds filled every corner—soldiers, grieving families, farmers, merchants, even children perched on rooftops just to catch a glimpse.
Fenrir stepped onto a wooden podium adorned with garlands. Before him stood thousands of faces still scarred by war—some had lost fathers, sons, or husbands.
The air tightened. Fenrir raised his hand, and silence fell like a heavy curtain.
> "Today," his voice rang firm, "I do not speak as a noble, nor as a Viscount. I stand before you as one who has bled on the battlefield, just as you have."
The murmur of the crowd subsided into silence once more.
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A slow drumbeat echoed. From the side of the stage, rows of simple wooden coffins, draped in black cloth, were carried forward. Each bore the engraved name of a fallen soldier.
Fenrir bowed his head. His soldiers followed, planting their weapons into the ground in solemn respect.
> "Those who fell are not wasted lives," Fenrir declared, his voice steady though tinged with grief. "They are the foundation upon which we stand today. Without their sacrifice, Eisenwald would not be standing proud."
Wives sobbed openly. Children clutched at their mothers' clothing. Veterans stood rigid, jaws clenched, eyes burning.
Kael stepped forward, drawing his blade and raising it high. The twenty Crimson Knights followed, their swords gleaming in unison.
"For the fallen!" Kael shouted.
And the square erupted: "For the fallen!"
The chant thundered across the city, turning grief into roaring pride.
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When the crowd settled, Fenrir gestured. Large wooden chests filled with gold were rolled to the front. A scribe unfurled a long parchment bearing the names of the bereaved.
Fenrir's voice carried over the assembly:
> "Every family that has lost a son, a father, or a brother will receive gold in compensation. But more than that—I, Fenrir Eisenwald, grant each of you a plot of fertile land, so that you may live with dignity."
Gasps, sobs, and murmurs spread. Widows covered their faces with trembling hands. Some fell to their knees in gratitude.
An older woman, draped in mourning black, trembled as her name was called. Fenrir himself stepped down from the podium to hand her a heavy pouch of gold and a deed to farmland.
She whispered, voice cracking, "Thank you, my lord… my husband did not die in vain."
Fenrir placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Your husband died a hero. His name will be forever etched into Eisenwald's wall of honor."
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When the families had received their due, Fenrir turned to the soldiers who had survived. One by one, they stepped forward to the cheers of the crowd.
In full view of everyone, each soldier received gold and a deed to a small farm. The atmosphere shifted—grief gave way to pride.
These men, once mere peasants and laborers, were now landholders. Their status rose, and their dignity was restored.
> "You fought by my side," Fenrir told them, "and I will not allow you to return to poverty. This land is proof that your bravery is valued."
The soldiers raised their weapons skyward, shouting:
"Long live Eisenwald! Long live the Crimson Wolf!"
Their roar shook the square, the people joining in with equal fervor.
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Later that evening, Fenrir convened with his core commanders in the town hall.
Darius Holt suggested allocating the farmland in a way that could also serve military logistics.
Selene Aestra proposed permanent garrison oversight for bereaved families, to ensure their safety.
Kael Morgenstern remarked, "My lord, with this policy, you are not merely giving them gold. You are giving them a reason to remain loyal forever."
Fenrir nodded. He understood. Titles and recognition from the Emperor were valuable, but the loyalty of Eisenwald's people could only be forged through honor and justice.
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That night, a massive bonfire was lit at the square. Soldiers and civilians alike gathered. One by one, the names of the fallen were read aloud, each shouted for all to hear.
Fenrir stood before the flames, sword planted in the ground, firelight reflecting off his eyes.
> "I swear," his voice thundered, "Eisenwald will never forget them. And I will ensure that their sacrifice leads us to a greater future."
Kael stood at his side, gaze unwavering. The twenty Crimson Knights once again raised their swords, firelight dancing across the steel.
The moment was sacred. The entire city seemed to breathe as one, united in grief and pride.
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When the ceremony ended, Fenrir returned to the old manor that still served as Eisenwald's seat. It was modest compared to imperial palaces, yet his mind was not on comfort.
This day was not just about mourning—it was a declaration: Eisenwald would honor its fallen, reward its living, and rise stronger than ever.
But deep inside, Fenrir knew… this was only the beginning. Soon, a new castle would rise, new armies would be forged, and new enemies—beyond the border—would test him.
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