Once they reached the castle, the sight was lively and joyful. The courtyard was filled with cheering voices, and the name "Easvil... Easvil... Easvil!" echoed like a thunderous chant.
Flags were raised, and the people of the duchy celebrated their victory with unrestrained joy. The soldiers walked with pride, their heads high, basking in the glory of their victory.
Julian's eyes scanned the crowd of people who looked at him with admiration and reverence. In their eyes, he could see that he was no longer just a young noble; he was their hero, their leader.
The moment took him back to the time he had gone to war alongside the four dukes and the king. He remembered vividly the awe he felt at the sight of their commanding presence, the way their speeches rallied entire armies, and the unwavering power in their aura.
Back then, he had thought to himself, "I want this kind of power."
