Where there is war, there is death.
Time came to the afternoon.
Link, dressed in neat attire, walked solemnly towards the site of today's significant funeral.
War has always been synonymous with cruelty.
What it brings, besides the glory of victory, is endless sacrifice.
This time, Winterfell City successfully annihilated Xiong Bide's army. However, behind this victory, Winterfell City itself paid a considerable price.
The remains of the Soldiers who bravely sacrificed themselves in battle have now been carefully cleaned and prepared.
At this moment, the setting sun cast its light upon the earth, bringing with it a sense of desolation and loneliness.
Normally, at this hour, every household would be raising wisps of cooking smoke, a warm time bustling with preparations for dinner. Yet today, the streets of Winterfell City were empty, eerily quiet, as if the entire world was immersed in sorrow.
To the west of Winterfell City, there was a spacious plaza.
Today, all the citizens of Winterfell City had gathered here.
Around the plaza, several roaring bonfires flickered, seemingly adding a solemn atmosphere to this grave ceremony.
In the center of the plaza stood a massive wooden pyre, upon which were neatly arranged the remains of the seventy-two warriors who sacrificed themselves in this battle.
Among these seventy-two martyrs, thirty-one were Greck Cavalry, two were Heavy Armor Shield Soldiers, and the rest were all City Guards.
At the cost of seventy-two lives, nearly three thousand enemy troops were successfully annihilated. Numerically, this was undoubtedly a complete victory.
However, in today's memorial service, there were no true victors.
Because every life lost represents the shattering of the family behind it, bearing endless grief and longing.
Their lives are more precious than a win or loss.
Link walked with heavy steps, slowly approaching the stone platform beside a new, massive stone in the middle of the plaza.
He scanned the surrounding crowd, his heart filled with emotion.
Link took a deep breath and slowly began, "Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to send these brave warriors on their final journey. Tonight, we will hold this memorial service here to commemorate the seventy-two warriors who sacrificed themselves in this defensive battle. Some of them were so young, their youthful vigor not yet fully faded, with countless possibilities awaiting them in the future; while others had wives and children at home eagerly awaiting their safe return, hoping for a family reunion."
Among the crowd, low sobs gradually began to emerge.
The crying, like sharp blades, pierced everyone's hearts.
"Some of them had elderly parents at home. These elders toiled diligently their entire lives and should have enjoyed the joy of children and grandchildren in their old age. But now, they must endure the pain of white-haired parents burying their black-haired children."
At this moment, an elderly woman with white hair in the crowd could no longer suppress her grief, weeping as she leaned on her old man's shoulder.
Her crying was filled with despair and helplessness, moving everyone present.
"But in this desperate battle against the enemy, they did not flinch in the slightest. To protect our Winterfell City, to guard their families, wives, children, and friends behind them, they resolutely charged into the battlefield. Even when the enemy swung blood-stained broadswords at them, they did not hesitate, bravely meeting the attack! They used their lives to interpret what bravery is, what fearlessness is!"
Link's voice gradually grew impassioned.
"They are the heroes of our Winterfell City! They are the brave and fearless martyrs of our Winterfell City! Here, let us offer our sincerest blessings on their final journey! May they arrive safely and peacefully in the embrace of the Earth Mother Goddess, and enjoy eternal rest there!"
After speaking, Link slowly closed his eyes and silently bowed his head towards the direction of the bonfire.
Seeing this, everyone followed Link's example, offering these final blessings to the heroes.
For a moment, a solemn and dignified atmosphere filled the plaza. Only the crackling sound of the burning bonfires seemed to narrate the heroic deeds of the martyrs.
"Here, I also want to announce a policy. I hope the heroic spirits of those heroes can hear this news and leave this world peacefully." Link raised his head, his gaze firm as he looked at everyone.
In the crowd, Lina had already guessed what the Lord was about to announce. As a warrior, she deeply understood the significance of this decision and was very pleased in her heart.
But from the perspective of Winterfell City, she also felt that this would undoubtedly bring a huge burden to the city.
The surrounding citizens, meanwhile, all looked at their Lord with curiosity, their hearts full of questions, wondering what new policy the Lord was going to announce.
"I, here, announce a new decree: From now on, including the Soldiers who sacrificed in this battle, any warrior who sacrifices in war or while performing a mission, if they have family members, their family members will receive a pension of ten gold coins!" Link's voice was loud and firm, echoing across the plaza.
The surrounding crowd, upon hearing this news, all showed expressions of shock.
Ten gold coins!
For an ordinary adult, even if they worked desperately for several years, they might not be able to earn that much money.
Yes, Link decided to further increase the pension policy.
This was a guarantee, and it was also telling these Soldiers that they had no worries when going to battle.
"As long as they sacrificed for Winterfell City, Winterfell City will never let them down!"
Link continued, "If there are elderly people in the family, our Winterfell City will provide them with a silver coin pension every month, so that they can enjoy their later years; if there are children in the family, our Winterfell City will be responsible for raising them until they are sixteen, so that they can receive a good education and grow up healthy. Moreover, the direct descendants of martyrs will all receive policy support from Winterfell City, whether in life or in career, they will be given certain help. As for those retired Soldiers who were seriously injured and unable to continue fighting, we will also properly arrange their future work and life problems, and will also issue a monthly subsidy of one silver coin, so that they can feel the warmth of Winterfell City."
If the previous ten gold coin pension had already surprised everyone, then these regulations were simply unheard of for the crowd. For a time, the crowd erupted, and everyone began to discuss animatedly.
At this moment, a loud shout came from the crowd: "Long live Lord Link!"
Immediately after, more voices rose: "Thank you, Lord Link!"
"Long live Lord Link!"
...Link heard that in one area of the crowd, many people suddenly knelt down.
He looked closely and saw that they were the Soldiers of the City Guard who had participated in this battle.
Most of them had injuries, some were even wrapped in thick bandages, but they still insisted on coming to send their fallen comrades off for the last time.
Link felt a surge of emotion in his heart, he quickly walked forward and helped up the Soldiers kneeling on the ground.
"You all still have injuries, don't kneel on the ground, get up quickly," Link said with concern.
When he helped up a Soldier who had lost his right arm, he noticed that his face was covered in tears.
Link sighed, and while helping up the armless Soldier, he said softly, "Don't worry, Winterfell City will not forget your contributions to Winterfell City. You are the heroes of Winterfell City, and as the Lord of Winterfell City, I will take good care of you."
"Thank you! Thank you!" The armless warrior saluted Link with his remaining left arm, his eyes filled with gratitude and respect.
Link nodded, said nothing more, and turned back to the stone platform.
"Everyone has seen the stone next to me, right? You must be very curious about what it's for. I'll tell you now, this stone will be our Martyr's Memorial. The names of all fallen martyrs will be carved on this monument, so that future generations will always remember their heroic deeds. From now on, this will be our Winterfell City's Martyr's Cemetery!"
Link gestured to the old butler, Slo, next to him. The old butler, Slo, nodded, and then had a stonemason come up, bringing with him the tools for carving.
Link cleared his throat and continued, "Alright, I will now read out the names of the warriors who sacrificed themselves in defending Winterfell City. Family members whose names are called, please come forward."
"Arnold Clyster, twenty-three years old."
"Occam Peter, eighteen years old."
"Walker Joseph, thirty-one years old."
As Link read the names, the stonemason beside him focused on carving the names onto the giant stone. Each name carved seemed to be a record of a heroic legend.
Family members of the fallen warriors whose names were called continuously came forward. Some were already crying uncontrollably, their eyes blurred with tears; others were numb from crying, just standing there blankly, their eyes filled with grief and despair.
"Let us remember the names of these martyrs who sacrificed for our Winterfell City. Our beautiful lives now are bought with their blood and lives. We must always remember their dedication and inherit their spirit." Link's voice echoed across the square, every word striking heavily upon people's hearts.
As Link spoke, he took a torch from the old butler, Slo's hand.
He slowly walked to the pyre, looked at the bodies of the martyrs lying quietly on it, silently mourned for three seconds, and then slowly lit the pyre.
"Waaah, waaah, Dad!" At this moment, a boy of seven or eight years old suddenly burst into tears.
"Don't cry, be good! Your dad died to protect us, your dad is a hero."
The boy's mother, next to him, squatted down and hugged her child tightly, suppressing the pain in her heart, comforting her child.
Her tears were also welling up in her eyes, but she tried hard not to let them fall, because she had to be strong, she had to be a support for her child.
Link saw this scene, sighed, waved his hand, and took the items he had previously instructed Slo, the old butler, to prepare. These were gold medals recast from melted gold coins.
Link walked to the crying little boy, squatted down, gently stroked his little head, and said softly, "Little friend, don't cry. Your mother is right, your father is a hero. Here, this is your father's medal, you keep it for him."
Link placed the circular gold medal in the little boy's palm.
The medal had two sides, the front engraved with the pattern of an Ice Plains Wolf, and the back, also engraved with a warrior holding a sword and shield.
The little boy stopped crying. He curiously looked at the medal in his hand, as if there was something on it that attracted him.
His small hand tightly clutched the medal, as if holding a piece of his father's glory.
"Remember, little one, inherit your father's will, live bravely and strongly, and be a great person, useful to Winterfell City, don't bring shame to your father."
Link stood up, then looked at the child's mother, and said seriously, "Your husband is a hero. If you have any difficulties in the future, you can come to me, or go to Commander Lina, and we will do our best to help you. Also, these ten gold coins, keep them safe." Link said, taking out ten gold coins and placing them in the woman's hand.
The woman took the ten gold coins, covered her face with her left hand, and choked out, "Thank you, thank you, Lord Link!" Her voice was full of gratitude, but even more so, of longing and reluctance for her husband.
Link then walked to the other family members, distributing comfort money and medals one by one.
Each family member who received the comfort money and medals had tears in their eyes and was filled with gratitude towards Link.
Link slowly walked towards the pyre, which was now burning fiercely. He looked at the more than thirty remaining badges in his hand; these belonged to the Greck Cavalry and two Heavy Armor Shield Soldiers.
He took a deep breath, then threw these medals into the fire, shouting loudly, "This is the honor you deserve, may you rest in peace! Brothers!"
Next, everyone offered their blessings one by one. Some clasped their hands together, praying silently; others had tears in their eyes, softly expressing their longing and respect for the martyrs.
Watching the fiercely burning flames, this night was destined not to be peaceful.
The flames, as if the souls of the martyrs were burning, illuminated the night sky of Winterfell City, and also illuminated the people's reverence and remembrance for heroes.
Link's decision to build this monument was not made on a whim.
The meaning and value of the monument's existence are more about inheritance, condensing thoughts, beliefs, and values, making the entire city more united, and also inspiring the next generation of young people.
Only when this 'power' is condensed will Winterfell City truly be invincible.