Henry rode on his horse, smiling and waving at the crowd.
His gaze swept through the crowd, seeing some familiar faces and some new ones.
These were all his subjects, his greatest treasure.
"My Lord, welcome home!"
After one person started, everyone began to cheer Henry's name. The atmosphere reached a climax, and the people began to celebrate the victorious return of their lord and his soldiers.
The pervasive music of Minstrels filled the streets. Henry watched it all, his heart filled with emotion.
'I don't know why, but every time I see a scene like this, I'm reminded of that country with four "suns." The people there also gave their lords the highest praise and respect.'
But unlike that orchestrated gratitude, the actions of Westwood Laine's residents were completely spontaneous.
They weren't trying to curry favor with him; they genuinely wanted to express their gratitude.
'At least I wouldn't reward someone with a blade just for failing to sing my praises.'
