Inside the rear fortress of Donetsk III, the scent of war still permeated the air, as if one could feel the mixed smell of gunpowder and metal with every breath.
Although the soldiers had tried their best to tidy their appearance, attempting to present their most solemn side at the award ceremony, the traces of war could not be completely erased.
Their armor still bore black smudges of gunpowder, and in some places, even cracks from shrapnel could be seen, as if every scar told of their life-and-death struggles on the battlefield.
The soldiers' faces showed a mixture of fatigue and tenacity, their eyes revealing a calm and resolute demeanor forged by surviving life and death.
Their skin was rough from the battlefield's wind and sand, traces of sweat still lingered on their foreheads, and their lips were tightly pressed, as if suppressing their inner emotions.
Despite their obvious fatigue, their backs remained straight, as if silently declaring: no matter how brutal the battle, they would hold their ground and fight for the Emperor.
The dim lights within the fortress cast long shadows, reflecting on the soldiers' armor, as if draping them in an invisible battle cloak.
On the fortress walls, the colossal Imperial Aquila shimmered with a cold light under the dim illumination, as if silently observing the impending award ceremony.
Alex stood on the makeshift award platform, clad in an Inquisitor's coat, the rosarius hanging at his waist gleaming with a dark red luster in the dim light, symbolizing his supreme authority as an Inquisitor.
His figure was tall and solemn, like an unshakeable statue, standing before the soldiers.
His gaze slowly swept over the soldiers neatly arrayed below the platform, a hint of approval and solemnity in his eyes.
That gaze, like a sharp blade, pierced through the heart of every soldier, as if silently scrutinizing their loyalty and courage.
Under his gaze, the soldiers involuntarily straightened their backs, as if wanting to prove themselves worthy of this honor.
Some of these soldiers had just been withdrawn from the front lines, still bearing unhealed wounds, the pain from beneath their bandages faintly throbbing, yet their eyes remained firm, as if telling everyone that pain was merely a battle medal.
Others were veterans who had survived fierce battles, their faces etched with the marks of time, their eyes revealing the calm and composure of those who had faced life and death, as if they had long seen through the brutality of war, yet still chose to stand here and fight for the Emperor.
Around the award platform, the Astra Militarum banners gently swayed in the breeze, the Imperial Aquila on the flags appearing especially solemn in the dim light.
The colossal mechs of the Imperial Knight stood silently in the background, like giant steel gods, silently guarding this solemn ceremony.
The mechs' armor was covered with scratches and scorch marks from battle, as if silently recounting their heroic deeds on the front lines.
Their presence was not only a protection for the soldiers but also a silent testament to this award ceremony.
A solemn atmosphere permeated the air, with occasional distant sounds of artillery reminding everyone that the war was still ongoing, and this award ceremony was merely a brief respite.
However, it was precisely this brief moment that allowed the soldiers to feel an unprecedented strength—the recognition from the Emperor and the support from their comrades.
Alex slowly spoke, his voice deep and powerful, cutting through the silence within the fortress: "Today, we gather here, not to celebrate victory, but to remember those warriors who bravely charged on the battlefield, offering their loyalty and courage to the Emperor."
His voice echoed under the fortress's dome, as if carrying an invisible force that struck the heart of every soldier.
Every word seemed to be distilled from profound history, imbued with the Emperor's majesty and the Inquisitor's sternness, yet also revealing a rare hint of warmth.
His words were concise and powerful, each word seemingly striking the soldiers' hearts, awakening their deep-seated loyalty to the Emperor and their desire for victory.
The soldiers' gazes were fixed on Alex, as if his every word was injecting new strength into them.
Although the fatigue of battle still lingered on them, at this moment, a new flame ignited in their eyes.
As his voice fell, several meritorious soldiers were called forward one by one.
Their steps were firm, and although their armor was slightly damaged, an unyielding light flickered in their eyes.
These soldiers had held their ground under enemy fire, some had led comrades to break through desperate situations; every one of their scars was a battle medal, every charge a tribute to the Emperor.
Alex personally bestowed the medals upon them; each medal symbolized their bravery and sacrifice on the battlefield.
His movements were solemn and slow, as if through these medals, he was transmitting the Emperor's blessing and recognition to every soldier.
His fingers gently brushed the surface of the medals, as if touching the heroic souls lost on the battlefield.
The bestowal of each medal was accompanied by his deep and firm voice: "For the Emperor, your sacrifice and courage shall be remembered forever."
"Your names shall be forever etched in the annals of the Imperium," Alex's voice echoed within the fortress, "Your courage shall inspire more warriors to continue fighting for the Emperor's glory."
The soldiers below stood in solemn reverence, their eyes burning with faith and determination, as if at this moment, all fatigue and pain were dispelled by the shining medals.
Their gazes closely followed Alex's figure, as if his every word and action were injecting new strength into them.
Although the battle ahead remained brutal and enemy artillery still raged, at this moment they felt an unprecedented strength—the recognition from the Emperor and the support from their comrades.
This strength made them understand that their sacrifice and courage were not in vain, but for a higher purpose.
The award ceremony concluded in a brief silence. Alex cast a final glance at these brave soldiers, nodding slightly, as if silently conveying his trust and expectation for them.
Then, he turned and departed, his back appearing exceptionally solemn and resolute.
His departure did not take away the solemn atmosphere of the ceremony; instead, it made the soldiers feel the responsibility on their shoulders even more deeply.
Inside the fortress, the soldiers remained standing, as if still savoring the solemn moment they had just experienced.
Their hands tightly gripped their weapons, and the medals on their armor shimmered faintly in the dim light, as if silently proclaiming their glory.
A solemn silence permeated the air, broken only by the occasional distant sound of artillery, reminding them that the battle was not yet over.
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