Chapter 691: Why Am I Receiving a Medal?

Throughout the entire ceremony, Garrett stood by the red carpet, intently observing.

He watched as Earl Isolite, accompanied by the sub-fleet commanders, briskly approached the throne;

He saw them salute in unison and collectively greet the Queen;

He watched the Queen bestow a medal upon the Earl, then draw her longsword to lightly tap his shoulder, knighting him as a Royal Guard;

He observed Earl Isolite rise and stand beside the throne, reporting to the Queen or rather announcing to the attendees the details of the great battle:

"Our fleet set sail on October 7th. After two months at sea, we reached the Bay of Biscay..."

Garrett listened quietly for a while before understanding that this battle involved four fleets setting off on different missions.

Two royal fleets directly penetrated the New World, finding strategic locations to quietly wait in ambush; two parliamentary fleets divided their forces to retrieve allies:

One headed north to the Black Gate Peninsula to meet with barbarians who were already prepared for battle. After picking them up, they sailed west to the northern tip of the New World, then followed the coastline south.

The other went south to the northern tip of the Black Continent to meet with the predetermined assembly of vampires and orcs. It must be said that the vampires and orcs had indeed invested heavily:

The vampires all rested in coffins, transported by the orcs’ small smuggling ships in a relay, navigating out of the Mediterranean and delivered to the ports outside the Tarik Strait, on the northern end of the Black Continent. The journey was fraught with peril and hardship;

Meanwhile, the orc armies, carrying their provisions and riding camels, crossed thousands of miles of desert. This allowed them to evade the watchful eyes of the Radiant Church, completely undetected, and board the parliamentary ocean-going vessels.

Ultimately, the four fleets, totaling 150 ships, cornered the returning fleet of the Radiant Church near the capital of the Storm Islands, in the Bay of Tassas.

150 against 50.

Vampires, orcs, and humans, with four legendary figures present.

The newly launched royal vessel, the Victory, and the Magicians’ Council’s ship, the Whale, along with the alchemical ship, the Goldstone, encircled and attacked the flagship of the Church’s escort fleet, the Unicorn.

During the fierce battle, the cardinal aboard the Unicorn was forced to burn his life force, releasing a Divine Descent spell, yet still unable to turn the tide of battle.

"Wow..."

Cirilla’s eyes sparkled as she softly exclaimed in astonishment. Her eyes fixed on Earl Isolite, she stealthily poked Garrett’s waist with her finger:

"Divine Descent spell! I’ve heard my father say that even adult dragons cannot withstand such a spell!"

...Indeed.

A spell of legendary level.

Even dragons, unless they’re of legendary status, should not confront it head-on—best to avoid if possible, as the variability of magic is too great.

Just that one Divine Descent spell is enough to imagine the intensity of the battle: out of 150 ships, only just over 120 returned, nearly a fifth lost.

Of course, most of the destroyed were small ships, many converted into fire ships used to block the bay entrance. Some were unable to evade in time during the Divine Descent spell or were affected by exploding chambers.

"And, the people?"

Upon hearing this, the Queen leaned forward slightly, eager to inquire:

"My brave warriors, how are they?"

"Thanks to the Queen’s blessing, the sacrifice of our warriors was not severe," the Earl bowed as he replied:

"Jumping to fight, mainly handled by barbarians and orcs, our people were less involved in close combat..."

The guests chuckled softly. Garrett also smiled faintly:

Although he had a fondness for the straightforward barbarians and the hearty orcs, at the end of the day, only humans were his kin.

Knowing that fewer of his own people had died was invariably a cause for joy.

After reporting the battle achievements, the Earl continued to present the spoils of war. The Queen, as gracious as ever, rewarded generously:

"The commander of the first sub-fleet, Sir Joviel, led the fleet to blockade Tassas Bay. Leading from the front, he engaged the Church’s fleet..."

"Sir Joviel, I hereby promote you to Rear Admiral of the Navy and award you the Thorn Flower Medal. May you continue to strive for greater contributions to the kingdom..."

"The commander of the second sub-fleet, Sir Briolet... who cut down the deputy leader of the Radiant Church’s Paladin Order..."

"Promoted to... Rear Admiral of the Navy... awarded the Thorn Flower Medal..."

"The commander of the third sub-fleet, Sir Derek..."

"Awarded the Narcissus Medal..."

"The commander of the fourth sub-fleet..."

Garrett listened boredly, occasionally scrutinizing the Queen, observing her condition. This Queen was truly steadfast, standing there with a belly eight or nine months along, her demeanor warm, her smile genuine—

Just like those hospital doctors and nurses who, near their due date, still worked. Reportedly, the head of their obstetrics department was busy until delivery; consulting in the morning and lying on the delivery bed by afternoon...

Please, do take care not to overexert yourself, and avoid upsetting your pregnancy! Even if divine magic can help, it’s not something to rely on indefinitely!

After the four sub-fleet commanders, a long procession of meritorious soldiers was led up. There were captains, chief mates, gunnery chiefs, and spellcasters responsible for various aspects:

Attack, defense, support, disruption, healing...

Garrett was nearly falling asleep. Or rather, if not for the need to keep an eye on his charge, he would have truly fallen asleep. Ah, when would this end, those golden treasures, could he not have a closer look...

"Master Nordmark, for his outstanding medical expertise, has made a significant contribution to the health of the fleet members..."

"Master Nordmark!"

Ah?

What?!

Why am I receiving a medal?!

Nobody informed me beforehand!

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