The following morning, after the unforgettable "baptism" of chicken soup the night before, a subtle yet unmistakable change had taken place within the knights' camp.
It wasn't something that could be measured easily, nor could it be explained with a single word. Yet anyone with eyes could see it.
The knights were no longer moving like lifeless machines driven solely by habit and exhaustion. Their steps were quicker, their postures straighter. Even their gazes, once dull and vacant, now carried faint sparks of alertness and intent.
Some of them began inspecting their armor without being ordered to do so, tightening straps that had long been ignored and wiping frost from battered shields. Others gathered in small groups, quietly discussing the situation in the Northern Territory—its dangers, its resources, and its unforgiving climate. A few even started talking about defensive formations and how they might protect the camp if attacked.
It was as if something long buried had been stirred awake.
Hope.
Although Louis's promises from the night before still felt distant—so distant they might have once been dismissed as empty fantasies—they were infinitely better than standing still and waiting for death to arrive.
Having a goal, no matter how far away, was better than having none at all.
Louis understood this better than anyone.
He knew that a single speech, no matter how passionate or sincere, could not permanently change people's hearts. Morale was fragile. Without real, tangible benefits, that spark would soon flicker and fade.
If he wanted these knights to truly believe in him, he had to show them something concrete.
He had to give them hope they could touch.
And so, shortly after dawn, Louis led the knights out onto the glacier.
The wind howled relentlessly across the vast sheet of ice, carrying with it a biting cold that seeped into bone and marrow. Beneath their boots lay a thick, translucent layer of frozen river, stretching endlessly in every direction.
The knights exchanged uncertain glances.
"Can we really catch fish here?" someone muttered under their breath, staring skeptically at the solid ice beneath them.
"It's all frozen solid. Even if there were fish, how would we—"
"Lord Louis said so," Lambert interrupted calmly, gripping his hammer as he stepped forward. "There's no harm in trying."
Without waiting for further discussion, Lambert raised his hammer high and brought it crashing down against the ice.
Thump!
The sound echoed sharply across the frozen expanse.
Several knights couldn't help but snicker quietly.
Did he really believe fish could be caught simply by smashing open the ice? Rivers weren't magic treasure chests. This young lord was still far too naïve, wasn't he?
But no one dared openly defy Louis's command.
Reluctantly, the knights followed Lambert's lead. Weapons were raised, hammers and blades brought down again and again, striking the ice in steady rhythm.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Cracks slowly spread like spiderwebs across the frozen surface. After several minutes of labor, a narrow fissure finally opened, and deep, frigid river water surged upward, dark and unfathomable.
A large fishing net was carefully lowered into the opening.
The knights fell silent.
One by one, they leaned closer, eyes fixed on the crack in the ice. The wind continued to howl, but no one seemed to notice anymore.
Suddenly—
The rope jerked violently.
"Pull!" Lambert shouted.
Several knights rushed forward, grabbing the rope with both hands and hauling it upward with all their strength.
The next instant, silver light flashed across the ice.
A massive fish burst from the water, thrashing violently as it landed atop the glacier. Its scales shimmered like polished crystal, reflecting the pale morning sun in dazzling brilliance.
"Heavens—there really are fish!"
"Quick! Don't let it get away!"
Excitement exploded among the knights. Nets were thrown down again and again, ropes pulled up in rapid succession. Each time, silver-white fish were hauled onto the ice, their bodies writhing and glistening as if forged from ice itself.
Again and again.
When the final count was taken, there were twelve fish laid out before them.
At that moment, one of the more knowledgeable knights froze, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Wait… these fish…" His voice trembled as realization dawned. "These are Northern Crystal Cod!"
The name rippled through the crowd like thunder.
"A rare treasure found only in the most extreme cold regions," the knight continued excitedly. "Their bones can purify bloodlines and enhance physical strength!"
The knights' breathing quickened almost instantly.
No one here was ignorant of what bloodline purification meant. It wasn't merely an immediate boost in power—it meant increased potential, a higher ceiling for future growth.
Such treasures were beyond the reach of ordinary knights. Even nobles in the southern territories could only hope to eat such fish a handful of times in their entire lives.
If they could just take one sip…
As fantasies bloomed in their minds, Louis's calm voice cut through the excitement.
"Half of these fish are for you," he said casually. "We'll make fish soup later."
Silence.
Then—
The words detonated like a thunderbolt.
For a moment, no one moved. No one even breathed.
"Lord Louis…" one knight whispered, staring at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"These are Northern Crystal Cod!" another exclaimed, his voice shaking. "Even southern nobles might not eat these more than a few times in their lives!"
Then the dam broke.
"Long live Lord Louis!"
"Long live Lord Louis!"
Shouts erupted from every direction, echoing across the frozen wilderness. Shock, disbelief, and overwhelming gratitude intertwined, leaving many knights red-eyed and trembling.
This was something they wouldn't have dared dream of.
When had knights exiled to the Northern Territory ever been treated with such generosity?
Soon, a massive iron pot was set atop a roaring bonfire. The fish were cleaned and placed inside, their flesh slowly simmering as steam rose into the air.
The aroma was indescribable—rich, clean, and profoundly nourishing.
As the soup thickened, it took on a faint silvery-white hue, as though tiny points of light drifted within the broth itself, shimmering softly like starlight.
Bowls were filled one by one and handed out.
"Can we really drink this?" a knight whispered, clutching his wooden bowl with trembling hands—not from fear, but from awe.
"Stop talking," Louis said simply.
He lifted his bowl and drank without hesitation.
The soup slid smoothly down his throat, warmth spreading instantly from his stomach to his limbs. An invisible current surged through his body, washing over his blood and bones, carrying away impurities as if scouring him clean from the inside.
Seeing this, the knights no longer hesitated.
They raised their bowls and drank deeply.
The moment the hot liquid touched their throats, many froze in place. Their expressions shifted as something profound stirred within them.
One by one, they sat down cross-legged, closed their eyes, and instinctively began circulating their breathing techniques. They absorbed the mysterious energy greedily, terrified of wasting even the smallest trace.
Some trembled as their bloodlines were cleansed, a lightness spreading throughout their entire bodies.
Others clenched their teeth, enduring waves of heat that surged through muscle and bone, as if their very bodies were being reforged.
The camp fell into deep silence.
Only the steady rhythm of breathing remained.
Then—
A sharp gasp shattered the stillness.
"My… my body…" A young Apprentice Knight stared at his hands in shock, his pupils glowing faintly.
Boom!
A soft silver light erupted from his body.
"The aura of a Formal Knight!" someone shouted. "He advanced!"
Before the astonishment could fade, another Apprentice Knight began trembling violently, light spilling from his body as well.
He, too, broke through.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then chaos erupted.
"This is madness!"
"One bowl of soup—and they advance just like that?!"
The knights stared at Louis with eyes filled with reverence.
Just hours ago, they had doubted him. Questioned his worth. Wondered what right this exiled lord had to lead them.
Now, all doubts had vanished.
They had witnessed miracles with their own eyes.
Even those who hadn't advanced felt their strength surge dramatically. This was no illusion.
They didn't know about the intelligence system. They only believed one thing—
Lord Louis had been favored by the gods.
And yet, he had shared that divine blessing with them.
At that moment, their hearts unified completely.
"Long live Lord Louis!"
The shouts echoed endlessly across the frozen land.
His kindness truly knew no end.