Chapter 32 : Chapter 32
Chapter 32. The Medal Beneath the Moonlight
The mystery of the elven ruins was like a stone cast into a deep pool. After stirring up a circle of ripples, it eventually sank, for the time being, to the lakebed beneath the territory’s busy operations as the days passed.
Two days went by. Morning in the Obsidian Territory camp still woke to the constant clang of hammering, the shouted cadence of soldiers drilling, and the calls of laborers working in the fields.
But Eli had not forgotten.
He had merely turned his focus to the more urgent need before him—the hearts of the people.
The territory’s population had already grown to nearly a thousand, and its makeup was complicated: slaves, freefolk, soldiers, craftsmen, demi-humans...
If he wanted them to truly become one, and to see Obsidian Territory as the place where they could build their lives,
then they needed recognition, they needed a sense of belonging, and they needed to see that effort would be acknowledged and that the future held hope.
“A commendation ceremony?” When Old John heard Eli’s proposal, he blinked.
“My lord, you mean... awarding... medals? Like the kind noble lords receive?”
He quite clearly felt that would be a little too grand.
“That’s right.
We will commend those who have given their sweat and loyalty to Obsidian Territory. We will let everyone see that here, contribution is always repaid.
Especially those newly made freefolk, and those slaves who have distinguished themselves. They must become examples for the others!”
“Yes, my lord. I’ll go arrange the site and prepare the list at once.”
Old John hurried off in high spirits.
At that moment, Brandon was still far away in Lucerne, watching the enemy’s movements.
...
The commendation ceremony was held on the relatively level ground beside the newly built Training Ground.
There was no raised dais, no splendid decoration.
A few freshly cut logs had been assembled into a crude “honor platform,” and thick burlap had been spread across it.
Below it, nearly a thousand territory residents stood packed across the clearing in a dense black mass, while soldiers maintained order among them.
Eli stepped onto the honor platform, sunlight falling across his youthful face, which already carried a growing air of authority.
“People of Obsidian Territory!” Eli’s voice rang clearly across the entire gathering.
“Today, we stand here not to pray for the blessing of the gods, nor to praise the glory of the distant royal capital.
We stand here for ourselves!
For this homeland that our own hands have opened up inch by inch!”
“The life that Obsidian Territory enjoys today was not built by me, Eli Black, alone. It was built by every one of you.”
His words lit a long-suppressed fire in the crowd’s eyes.
Many people straightened their backs unconsciously.
“So today, standing here, I speak on behalf of Black Territory to thank you.
I will commend those who, in their own posts, have given the most and contributed the most to our home!”
Eli picked up a list Old John had prepared.
“Agricultural Officer Hadi!”
The gray-haired old agricultural officer was led up onto the platform by the soldiers, rubbing his callused hands with some embarrassment.
“You led the farmers in reclaiming more than three hundred mu of fertile farmland and improved our sowing methods, laying the firmest foundation for the grain stores of Obsidian Territory.”
Eli hung a round wooden medal around Hadi’s neck, one that Leon had carefully carved by hand.
On the front of the medal was a full sheaf of wheat.
“Mining Officer Leon!”
Excitement covered the young blacksmith’s dark face.
“You not only kept the mine’s output stable, but also used our limited supply of poor-quality iron ore
to forge the tools and farm implements that support our construction and production!”
A wooden medal engraved with crossed hammers and a pickaxe was hung upon Leon’s chest.
“Construction Officer Old John!”
Old John was helped up onto the platform, trembling. Tears shimmered in his clouded old eyes.
“You directed the building of our homes, planned our camp, and are now building an even stronger fortress for us.”
A medal bearing the outline of a house and a measuring square was placed around his neck.
“Knight Captain Bol!”
The bald, burly man strode up onto the platform.
“You maintain order, deter evildoers, and serve with loyalty and courage. You are an example to our soldiers.”
A medal engraved with crossed swords was awarded to him.
“Constable A-Tu!”
A lean young soldier was called by name.
He froze in disbelief for a moment before being hastily shoved onto the platform by his companions.
He was the protégé Bol had trained personally. Usually taciturn, he was meticulous in patrols and guard duty.
“You have fulfilled your duties with utmost diligence and see everything with keen eyes. You are a loyal guardian of order.”
A wooden medal, likewise engraved with crossed swords, was hung upon him. A-Tu’s face turned bright red with excitement, and he stood ramrod straight.
“And you, A-Hua! As the leader of the fishing team, you led everyone in weaving nets and catching fish, enriching our tables!”
“Old Li the carpenter, the spinning wheels you made work faster and faster.”
“...”
One name after another was called.
One ordinary or extraordinary reason after another was spoken aloud.
There were white-haired elders, boys who had not yet outgrown their youthful air, taciturn craftsmen, and powerful soldiers.
When those wooden medals, symbols of recognition and honor, were hung upon their chests, and they stood beneath the gaze of nearly a thousand people,
a light unlike anything they had ever known shone in their eyes.
That light was called dignity. It was called the satisfaction of having one’s worth acknowledged.
The atmosphere below the platform grew hotter and hotter.
Every time a name was called, every time a deed was recounted, heartfelt applause and cheers broke out.
And especially when those being commended who had once been slaves stepped onto the platform, the slave crowd erupted with suppressed gasps of excitement and envious stares.
After honoring the leaders and the most outstanding contributors, Eli’s voice suddenly rose, carrying a solemn sense of promise.
“I said that hard work and devotion would one day win freedom and dignity! Now, I will fulfill that promise!”
He took up another list and swept his gaze across the countless pairs of eyes below him that had suddenly gone still, filled with boundless yearning.
“The people whose names I call next are, from this day forward, no longer slaves. You are the new freefolk of Obsidian Territory!”
“Deji!”
“Laodang!”
“A-Shui!”
“Shitou!”
“...”
With every name he called, another figure stumbled out from the slave ranks, so excited that they could barely speak coherently.
Among the remaining slaves, envy, longing, and hope for the future burned like fire.
When the final name was spoken, a full thirty-two new freefolk stood upon the platform.
Bathed in the fervent gaze of everyone present, the atmosphere of the whole assembly reached its peak.
“Long live Obsidian Territory!!”
“Long live our lord!!”
“Freedom!!!”
The deafening cheers swept through the entire clearing like a tidal wave, the sound surging straight into the sky!
Eli looked at the boiling crowd below him, at those faces lit up by hope, and felt much of the crushing weight that had pressed upon his heart these past days finally disperse with the thunderous roar.
He drew in a deep breath and, with all his strength, sent his final words into every ear.
“Obsidian Territory is the homeland we all share! Be loyal to it, offer it your talent and your sweat,
and then, no matter where you came from, no matter what your former status was, this place will give you the dignity, freedom, and future you deserve.
Loyalty and talent shine brighter than any noble bloodline!”
“ROAR—!!!”
What answered him was a wave of cheers like mountains collapsing and seas overturning!
...
When the clamor finally faded, night had already deepened to ink-black.
The wooden door to the lord’s bedroom was gently pushed open, and Eli entered, carrying both his exhaustion and the lingering swell of emotion that had not yet fully settled.
The commendation ceremony had been a tremendous success, far beyond his expectations. But the effort of presiding over it and stirring the crowd’s emotions had also left him with a deep weariness.
Then, in the next instant, his movement halted abruptly.
Cold moonlight slipped through the gap of the half-shut wooden window like flowing quicksilver, slanting into the room.
Within that pool of pale radiance, a slender figure sat with her back to him at the edge of his hard wooden bed.
The moonlight outlined the graceful curve of her delicate figure. Her long hair, cascading like a waterfall, no longer seemed to be the malnourished gray-white he remembered.
Instead, it flowed in a silver sheen almost like moonlight itself, all the way down to her waist.
Hearing the door open, the figure slowly turned around.
In that instant, Eli’s breathing stopped completely.
Beneath the moonlight was a face beautiful enough to shame the stars.
Her skin was as fine as the finest white porcelain, and beneath the cool glow, it seemed to shine with a hazy radiance of its own.
Her nose was high and elegant, and her perfectly shaped lips resembled the petals of a rose just beginning to bloom.
Those eyes were still as clear as ever, but the confusion and timidity they once held were gone.
In their place was a faint grievance and a quiet expectation as they fixed themselves steadily upon him.
It was Ella.
“E-Ella?” Eli’s voice came out terribly dry, as though he were still trapped inside a dream.
When Ella saw the unhidden amazement and dazed wonder in Eli’s eyes, a trace of small satisfaction flickered through those amethyst-like eyes of hers.
But at once, the exquisite corners of her lips turned downward into an aggrieved little pout.
“Why...” she asked, her voice still the same clear, pleasing one he knew so well.
“Why did everyone else get a medal... but I didn’t?”
She tilted her head ever so slightly, and in that instant, the sight pierced straight through every one of Eli’s defenses and every thread of his reason.
Back at the elven ruins, when Clark had questioned her with suspicion and scrutiny, he had stepped in front of her almost without thinking...
The answer, it seemed, had already been buried deep within his heart.
He truly had fallen in love with her.
He had fallen in love with the girl who helped him handle his affairs and passed arrows to him—not the princess.
The words that had once been mixed with lies had now become the truth.
Eli’s throat bobbed hard, and a burning emotion surged up from the depths of his heart, instantly setting his entire body aflame.
He stopped thinking. He stopped hesitating. Following the most primal impulse in his heart, he strode forward.
Under the slightly widened, startled gaze of Ella’s violet eyes,
Eli bent down. One hand gently cupped her smooth, delicate cheek, while the other wrapped around her slender waist.
Then, with a tenderness that was almost reverent,
he softly pressed his lips to her cool, tender ones.
Time itself seemed to stop in that moment.
The chirping of insects outside the window, the crackling of the distant campfires, even the sound of their heartbeats, all vanished.
The world held only the unfamiliar, intoxicating softness between their lips, and the faint fragrance that belonged to Ella alone.
After a long while, Eli finally lifted his head.
His deep blue eyes gazed into Ella’s violet ones, which were now filled with moisture and another fierce, burning emotion.
His long fingers, the callused pads of them, brushed with the utmost care across her slightly swollen lips.
His voice was low and hoarse.
“This is your medal, Ella. One of a kind, and yours alone.”