Some had red eyes, while others pressed their lips in a smile, as if holding their breath to stop themselves from calling out on the spot.
"It's true."
"If we follow him, we can truly have our own land."
"Master Louis has always been true to his word."
Low murmurs rose in the fields, but no one stopped working.
Instead, the rhythm of shovels hitting the ground quickened, the wooden beams were carried more steadily, and even those mixing the mud began to sing as they worked.
It's not that no one was tired or cold, but everyone worked harder.
They all knew in their hearts that this time, as long as they could endure, build the roads, clear the fields, and plant the first batch of seeds.
Their children, their names, could take root on this new land.
