Chapter 836: Chapter 836 - 454: Before the Parade Begins

This wasn't a chaotic and noisy refugee camp but a slowly undulating sea of people.Rows of dark cotton clothes swayed gently in the wind, like unending tides, stretching to the horizon.Yet the air was free of any sour decay, replaced by the aroma of baked potatoes heated by charcoal, the faint sizzle of butter melting on an iron plate, and the unique sweetness of malt sugar wafting in the morning breeze.Vendors weaved through the crowd, carrying wooden boxes on their shoulders. As soon as the lids were opened, children flocked around them.Nearly everyone was dressed in thick and clean cotton clothing.Dark cotton clothes, not exactly luxurious in cut, yet sturdy and well-fitting.These were standard goods woven in batches by the Red Tide Textile Factory, unaffordable to commoners in the Southern Province, yet just ordinary everyday wear here.The patched, oily linen of the old era had long been relegated to memory.But the more obvious change was written on their faces.These were faces that were full and vibrant, no longer with sunken eye sockets or protruding cheekbones.A sturdy father lifted his daughter onto his shoulders.The little girl held onto his neatly trimmed hair with one hand, waving a small flag with a sun emblem with the other, her cheeks adorned with red stickers, screaming with excitement.The father tilted his head back, letting his child sway on his shoulders, his face openly showing pride.In one corner of the crowd, a family of three stood particularly quiet.They were a craftsman family from the Gray Rock Province that migrated to Red Tide Territory two years ago.The father had once improved steam pistons in the workshops of Gray Rock and was later recruited to Red Tide, now a formal resident.The child clutched a string of sugar-glazed berries, a treat he'd only heard of in tales of noble banquets before.The man's hand unconsciously rubbed his new cotton coat, fingers caressing the fabric's texture repeatedly, as if afraid it would all vanish if he let go.The woman's eyes turned slightly red; instead of looking at the center of the parade ground, she gazed towards the distant castle, hands clasped in silent prayer.A few years ago, they were worried about the heavy taxes from the Remont Clan, even secretly discussing whether to hang themselves together.Now, they stood in the sunlight, stomachs full of fine bread, the child's mouth still stained with sugar glaze.For them, Louis was more than an abstract title of lord; he was the Savior who kept them fed and warm.They too had dressed themselves neatly, striving to emulate the attire and behavior of the Red Tide residents, hoping one day to be accepted by this land.Low murmurs of conversation swirled in the air.The Red Tide populace was not ignorant.The spread of night schools and literacy made them exceptionally aware of happenings outside."Have you heard? The iron factory has developed the third generation of steam war chariots.""Those iron beasts that can move on their own and spew fire?""Shhh!