Chapter 100 – The Crimson Wolf's Birthday
The sun rose gently above the marshlands, its light scattering across Eisenwald's newly built stone roads. What had once been a poor frontier barony now resembled a bustling town, banners of crimson wolf insignias fluttering proudly from towers and market stalls.
This was no ordinary day. It was the eighteenth birthday of Baron Fenrir Eisenwald, the Crimson Wolf.
Horns were blown from the towers. Children ran through the streets laughing, merchants unfurled silks and spices from distant regions, and soldiers in polished armor lined the main thoroughfares. The air vibrated with anticipation, as though the entire land itself was waiting for its lord to step forward.
"Look at this place… three years ago it was nothing but mud and weeds," whispered a farmer, clutching his wife's hand.
"And now… it feels like we're living under a real lord."
---
The horns blared again, and the ground trembled.
First came the infantry—5,200 soldiers, shields locked, spears gleaming under the morning sun. Their synchronized march echoed like thunder, every step announcing Eisenwald's rise.
Behind them advanced 2,000 archers, bows strung with steel, their movements sharp and precise. When they turned in formation, the feathers of their arrows shimmered like silver waves.
Then came 2,000 cavalry, their marsh-bred steeds snorting and stamping, armored hooves clashing against stone. Spears angled forward, banners streaming behind them.
The artillery division followed, 20 massive ballistae rolled forth by 550 operators. Their wooden frames reinforced with Falkenrath steel, they towered over the crowd like war beasts.
Stealth followed steel—750 scouts and assassins in black garb, their faces veiled, their steps silent even in parade. The crowd hushed as they passed, awe and unease spreading equally.
And finally—
The Crimson Knights.
150 warriors walked as though they were one, not in stiff formations but radiating confidence. At their head strode Kael Morgenstern, his great black blade strapped to his back. Though his aura was not released, his mere presence pressed down on the square.
The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer.
> "Crimson Knights!"
"Glory to the Baron!"
---
At the central square, a wooden dais had been erected. Fenrir stepped onto it, clad in a black mantle trimmed with crimson, the silver wolf emblazoned across his chest. His features were still young, yet the fire in his eyes belonged to a commander who had tasted war.
On one side, Elena, his mother, sat with tears glistening as she watched her son. On the other, his commanders—Darius, Selene, Garrik, Lyra, Roland, and Kael—stood as living proof of Eisenwald's transformation.
Fenrir raised his hand, and silence fell instantly.
> "Three years ago, Eisenwald was nothing more than a forgotten swamp, our people trampled by bandits and mocked by nobles. Yet you—my people, my soldiers—stood tall. You fought. You endured. Today, we no longer bow. Today, we stand as one pack, one Eisenwald. Today is not just my birthday… it is the birth of the Crimson Wolf's domain!"
The square exploded into cheers, thousands roaring until their voices shook the heavens.
---
As the speech ended, the celebration truly began.
Tables stretched down the main street, laden with roasted boar, freshwater fish from the marshes spiced with southern herbs, baskets of fresh bread, and barrels of beer tapped freely for all.
Children donned painted wooden wolf masks, chasing each other in mock battles. Musicians played flutes and drums, their melodies joined by soldiers performing dances of victory.
Fenrir walked among his people. Many bowed, some reached out to touch his hand, tears in their eyes.
An elderly widow clasped his cloak. "My husband fell in the last war, my lord. But because of you, my children still live. You are not just our baron… you are our shield."
Fenrir bent low to her, his voice solemn.
> "His sacrifice will never be forgotten. Eisenwald will endure, for his blood and yours."
---
As darkness settled, hundreds of torches lit the streets. A massive bonfire roared at the heart of the square, illuminating the faces of thousands who gathered once more.
Fenrir stood atop the dais again, surrounded by the Crimson Knights.
Kael Morgenstern stepped forward, unsheathing his sword. The black steel glimmered in the firelight. Then, in a voice that rolled like thunder:
> "Crimson Knights swear today! We are the sword of Eisenwald, the shield of the Crimson Wolf. Until our last breath, we will cut down any who dare threaten this land!"
The 150 knights struck their chests in unison.
> "By blood, by steel, by oath!"
The atmosphere was electric, the air heavy with pride and fire.
Fenrir lifted his gaze to the crowd. His voice carried over the crackle of flames:
> "Tonight we celebrate. But tomorrow, we prepare. Shadows gather beyond our borders. And when they move against us, the wolf will not cower—he will hunt."
The people answered with a roar so loud it seemed to shake the stars.
---
In the quiet of his mind, the System stirred.
[Quest Progress]
Shadows of the Border – Expand Diplomatic or Trade Alliances (Pending).
Note: Military strength achieved. Spies neutralized. Final step remains.
---
Above Eisenwald, fireworks crafted by artisans painted the night with sparks of gold and crimson. The people laughed, sang, and drank, their spirits soaring higher than ever before.
Yet Fenrir, standing by the fire, remained still. His eyes turned north, where darkness loomed.
He clenched his fist.
> "My childhood ends tonight. From this moment, I am no longer just a baron. I am the Crimson Wolf—and the hunt has only begun."
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