Sunlight spilled through gaps in the clouds, granting the Red Tide Fief a rare clear, refreshing day. No snow lay on the streets, and even the crisp air held a hint of warmth.
Louis Calvin set out without fanfare.
He wore a black cloak, with several neatly equipped but unobtrusive knights behind him.
The procession drew little attention, aiming only to maintain his safety without disturbing the public.
After all, he was a sunlike presence in the Red Tide Fief. If he went out too conspicuously, he might well cause another small commotion or even a stampede, which would be anything but good.
Today, he was heading to the Artisans' District to discuss the manufacture of new weapons with the master artisans there.
Beyond the Government Hall's main entrance, a stone-paved street stretched straight ahead. A cold wind blew, gently swaying the hardy pines on either side. The clean, tidy street reflected Red Tide's newfound order and vitality.
Despite his deliberate discretion, a few sharp-eyed citizens still recognized him.
After all, the sun's radiance was never easy to conceal.
But Louis quickly raised his hand and gave a small wave, signaling for everyone to stay quiet and keep things discreet.
The people immediately fell silent. They watched excitedly, but no one shouted; they merely bowed their heads quietly to express their gratitude.
At Louis's side was Bradley, the Calvin Family's old butler, who was nearing sixty. It was no exaggeration to say that he now shouldered half of Red Tide's administrative work.
Today, he accompanied Louis personally, reporting on the latest progress of the Urbanization Plan as they walked.
The two proceeded along the street. With every step, lines that had once existed only on blueprints took tangible form in brick, concrete, and carefully planned districts, their outlines distinct and