industrial lord

Chapter 820 Shared Pride

On the podium, Frederick's tall figure appeared exceptionally resolute in the firelight.

He raised his right arm and waved to the surging crowd in all directions, offering a simple yet powerful greeting.

His movements were not exaggerated, yet they carried an indescribable appeal, as if such a simple gesture was enough to ignite the flames in the hearts of millions.

The square instantly transformed into a sea of ​​cheers.

"Weisen! Weisen! Weisen!"

This cry was no longer just words, but a force that shook the earth. The cheers, shouts, and applause of tens of thousands of people surged like a real wave, breaking the cold silence of the winter night.

The sound waves crashed against the facades of the buildings surrounding the square, rebounding, echoing, and overlapping, eventually converging into a mighty torrent that shot straight into the deep night sky where the stars were just beginning to appear.

People waved whatever was within reach—gloves, felt hats, woolen scarves.

Many people had tears in their eyes. They were strangers to each other, yet they were all connected by the same emotion at the same moment.

The young child rode on his father's shoulders, waving his arms vigorously, as if he too understood that this moment was destined to be written into history.

The flickering flames danced and swayed with the vibrations of the sound waves, and the light and shadows throughout the square seemed to come alive, dancing wildly in response.

James stood in the crowd and had no choice but to applaud along with everyone around him.

The palms struck each other, sending a numbing pain through him, but he could barely feel it.

The turmoil raging within him was far more intense than the apparent fervor.

He had never seen such heartfelt popular support in any country or territory he had ever been to.

This is neither fearful obedience nor blind personality cult.

From every upturned face around him, he saw genuine enthusiasm, a bright radiance that bordered on pride—an awakened dignity.

Frederick simply stood quietly on the stage, waiting.

He made no gestures urging silence, nor did he show the slightest impatience.

He stood there, like a rock standing firm amidst the fervent roar, his gaze calmly and slowly sweeping across every corner of the square, as if engaging in a silent exchange and confirmation with every area and every person.

In that instant, James felt he made eye contact with Frederick.

This detail sent a chill down his spine.

An ordinary person feels that the ruler of a country is looking at them, and the disparity in status brings a sense of being valued.

The applause and cheers lasted for nearly five minutes before receding naturally like a tide.

The square fell silent again, save for the crackling of the burning firewood in the giant brazier and the heavy, suppressed breathing of tens of thousands of people.

Frederick's voice, though serious, carried a hint of friendliness, which was captured, amplified, and transmitted in all directions by the equipment.

"Citizens of the Duchy of Wesen, friends."

Everyone was filled with anticipation, especially James, who waited for Frederick to speak.

Many people are thinking that with such a grand display, what they're about to announce must be something significant.

Today is the twenty-eighth day after the winter solstice.

Frederick's voice carried through the crisp, cold air, each word clear and resonant, imbued with a gentle strength. "According to the experience passed down through generations of our ancestors, this is the heart of the coldest period of the year."

"In those long years, every winter night like this meant a silent gamble with death—the stakes being the frail body temperature of the elderly, the delicate skin of children, the thin clothes of the poor, and the remaining life of the sick."

His pauses were perfectly timed, allowing the weight of his words to sink deeply into the hearts of every listener.

James keenly observed that on many of the older faces around him, clear shadows, touched by memories, appeared. Deep within those wrinkles were etched the most primal fear of the harsh winter.

“Therefore, I stand here tonight to announce a message to you all.” Frederick’s tone turned solemn and almost ceremonial. “A message that may seem simple, but is of epoch-making significance for our duchy.”

The square was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Even the crackling of the brazier seemed to be absorbed by the heavy silence, fading into the distance.

"As of this moment—January 19, 1040—" Frederick's tone rose considerably, "Throughout the entire Duchy of Wessen, there has not been a single death caused by severe cold or hunger!"

silence.

A deep, almost frozen silence lasted for the duration of three heartbeats.

The cheers were deeper and more resonant than before, as if bursting forth from the deepest part of the chest, like a long-awaited spring thunder that suddenly exploded!

At the same time, the magnificent cathedral in the city rang its enormous bronze bell.

No one has died from the freezing cold; that's something the Church of Light proclaims only happens in heaven, but it has now come true on earth.

James's hands trembled slightly. Grand Duke Wesson was not one to speak carelessly; there were many rumors of miracles in his early years, so what he said this time must be true.

He could imagine that once this news spread, it would bring great prestige to Grand Duke Wessen.

Frederick waited again, letting the waves of emotion surge and slowly subside.

"Tonight, what I'm announcing is not just a cold statistic," Frederick's voice suddenly rose, filled with power. "We are announcing together: In Wessen, through the combined efforts of countless of us, the cold, once the undisputed killer of winter, has been defeated by the hard work of countless of us!"

"This is not my achievement alone; it is a paradise on earth created by the combined efforts of millions of people throughout the principality—workers, farmers, merchants, students, soldiers, government officials, and other laborers!"

"This is a source of pride for us all!"

James was stunned. Over the years, he had only seen rulers who took credit for others' achievements, and he had never seen a ruler who shared such supreme glory with ordinary people.

"Long live!!"

"Long live Weisen!!"

The applause and heartfelt shouts erupted once again, the scorching sound waves dispelling the chill around us.

James felt his palms go numb from clapping, partly from mechanical imitation and partly from a deep inner tremor.

He had no idea the speech would go in this direction.

How does this relate to the secret meeting, alliance, and political declaration against Anglo maritime infiltration that his superiors had anticipated?
However, when he looked around and saw the pure, almost glowing excitement and pride on the faces illuminated by the firelight, a cold lightning bolt suddenly cleaved through the fog of his thoughts.

He got it.

This is not a simple report on people's livelihood.

This is a more profound and fundamental display of power.

(End of this chapter)