Thinking back to his early days at the Northern Front, Link rembered clearly how Edward had contributed the powerful talent Collapse to him—one that had enabled his battles to go so smoothly afterward.
Toward this man, Link felt only two words: gratitude and respect.
Not long after Edward received his comndation, the veteran announcer called another na.
"Link, mber of the Eagle Hatchling Camp!"
"Present!"
Link straightened his back, stepped out from the crowd, and made his way slowly onto the stage.
General Nate also stood up and walked over to him, resuming the ceremonial reading.
"This young man, Link, despite his age, has already shown the courage to disregard life and death. For the safety of the Northern Front, he voluntarily ventured into peril, risking his life to uncover the collusion between those moonfolk bastards and traitors within our own kind."
"During this mission, he repeatedly faced life-threatening situations. If not for my tily intervention, he might not be standing here today. Instead, we would be honoring his uniform and ashes!"
The mont his words ended, thunderous applause erupted from the crowd below.
Most of it was for Link, but a fair share was clearly directed toward General Nate as well.
And who could bla them? The wily old man had subtly twisted the narrative at a key mont, claiming a small portion of the credit for himself by implying his role had been crucial in bringing the intelligence back safely.
Link, however, had no objections.
In fact, he rather admired the subtlety behind Nate’s arrangent. It didn’t seem like sothing this brash, rough-around-the-edges general could have co up with himself. Most likely, Ryze—his own ntor—had advised him to do so.
Still, none of that really mattered. This ceremony had been orchestrated around Link. He was the center of attention today. Nate couldn’t steal that from him.
After several more lines of ceremonial praise, Nate finally turned and picked up a crimson armband from the table behind him. With deliberate solemnity, he slipped it over Link’s upper arm.
"Link, you’ve shown selflessness and bravery in the face of danger. Because of your actions, 3,617 espers stationed at the Northern Front were spared the horrors of invasion. On behalf of the nation and the human race as a whole, I hereby bestow upon you a Special Class rit, the honorary title of Second Lieutenant of the Northern Front, and an award of 200,000 rit points!"
Link put on a look of astonishnt, slowly raising his hand to gently touch the armband Nate had just given him.
Of course, his surprise wasn’t entirely an act.
On one hand, it was a natural reaction to the atmosphere. On the other, he truly hadn’t expected Nate—this infamous troublemaker—to act with such convincing solemnity in a formal ceremony. He actually looked and sounded like a real general—majestic, stern, and admirable.
And judging from the murmurs he heard below the stage, he wasn’t the only one thinking that.
"No wonder he’s our Bloodsoaked General—just look at that presence, that charisma. I finally understand why the soldiers here are so loyal to him."
"Man, if I ever end up with a superior like General Nate, I’d laugh in my sleep."
"Right? Not only does he have presence, but the man’s strong too. I an, what is he, barely past thirty? And already a Tier 9 super-tier powerhouse! Damn, I regret not enlisting earlier—maybe I could’ve been stationed at the Northern Front!"
As the whispers spread, Link noticed sothing curious.
Nate’s lips had started to tremble uncontrollably—clearly, he was doing everything he could not to burst into laughter.
He’d absolutely nailed this act.
Then, Nate shot a quick glance toward the veteran soldier who’d been announcing nas earlier. The old soldier sighed—clearly familiar with Nate’s antics—and quickly stepped forward to wrap things up.
He formally declared the comndation ceremony over and announced that for the next three days, the supply depot would be open around the clock. All personnel stationed at the Northern Front—including those from Eagle Hatchling Camp—could receive free material support, including food, dicine, and more.
The cheers that followed were deafening.
The crowd practically erupted with joy.
Link, however, could only shake his head in mild exasperation. Just a little handout and they’re already so easily satisfied. These people still have a long way to go.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, Nate walked past him.
As he brushed by, the general whispered, "When you’re done here, swing by the command office in Sector One. I’ve got a surprise for you."
And with that, Nate casually stepped off the stage as if nothing had happened.
Link didn’t bother replying.
At this point, he wasn’t taking anything the old rascal said too seriously.
So-called "surprise"? It was probably just that welco gift he’d promised earlier.
Yet the way Nate had said it—with that smug tone and exaggerated secrecy—actually made Link less excited than before.
After all, if there was one thing Nate had never failed at, it was being disappointing.
His thoughts drifted back to the actual rewards.
The honorary second lieutenant rank and the 200,000 rit points—those had been within his expectations.
The military wasn’t like a big corporation with deep pockets. They couldn’t hand out piles of expensive gear or gold coins.
This level of reward was already more than fair.
What truly caught him off guard, though, was the Special Class rit.
He had honestly assud a Second Class rit was already optimistic. If Nate and Ryze pulled so strings, maybe First Class was within reach.
But Special Class? That was shocking.
From what he rembered, there hadn’t been many espers granted that level of honor since the great war decades ago.
Because Special Class wasn’t just a title—it ca with opportunities, future privileges, and the assurance of support from all branches of human society.
No one dared ss with soone holding that kind of rit. Doing so was akin to slapping the entire human race in the face.
As he pondered this, Link noticed the announcer—the grizzled old veteran—shooting him a look of envy.
He quickly collected himself and bowed respectfully. "Sir, thank you for your hard work."
The old soldier pulled out a cigarette from sowhere and led Link to a quiet corner below the stage.
Lighting up, he took a long drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"Don’t call ’sir,’ kid. I’m not worthy of that title."
"Then... what should I call you?"
The old man clicked his tongue and gave a small laugh.
"A no-na like ? Doesn’t matter if you rember or not. But you..."
He narrowed his eyes and gave Link a slow once-over.
"Heh. Link. Your na’s been ringing in my ears nonstop lately. Hard not to hear it."
Hearing that, Link had a rough idea what the old man was thinking. He gave a helpless smile and spread his hands.
"Wasn’t my intention, really. I was just eavesdropping on a eting between so moonfolk and traitors. Never expected things to blow up like this."
The old soldier let out a cold chuckle.
"Yeah... who’d have thought? Just like I never expected a brat your age to already be wearing a lieutenant’s badge."
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