Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Sunlight streamed through the clouds, and Red Tide Territory experienced a rare clear and bright day. There was no snow on the streets, and the air even carried a crisp warmth.

Louis Calvin traveled discreetly.

He wore a black cloak, with several well-equipped but understated knights behind him.

The overall atmosphere was not ostentatious, aiming only to maintain safety without alarming the public.

After all, in Red Tide Territory, he was like the sun; if he traveled too ostentatiously, it might cause a small commotion or even a stampede, which would not be good.

Today, he was heading to the Artisan District to discuss the manufacturing of new weapons with the master craftsmen there.

Stepping out of the main entrance of the Administration Building, the stone-paved street stretched straight ahead. A cold wind blew, and the winter pines on both sides swayed gently. The street was clean and tidy, reflecting Red Tide’s current order and new look.

Although he intentionally kept a low profile, some keen-eyed citizens still recognized him.

After all, the sun’s radiance is inherently hard to conceal.

But Louis quickly raised his hand and waved slightly, signaling everyone to be quiet and not draw attention.

People immediately quieted down, watching excitedly but without shouting. They simply bowed their heads in silent respect, expressing their gratitude.

Beside Louis was Bradley, the Calvin Family’s elderly butler, nearing sixty, who now supported half of Red Tide’s administration—this was no exaggeration.

Today, he personally accompanied him, reporting the latest progress of the urbanization plan as they walked.

The two walked along the street, and with each step, the lines that were once on blueprints were now materializing into bricks, concrete, and zoned planning, with clear outlines and immense changes.

Bradley chuckled, pointing his cane at the street ahead, and said, “Red Tide Territory’s urbanization plan is gradually becoming a reality, just as you planned it initially.”

“Although we still can’t fully replicate your ideal blueprint, we are steadily approaching it.”

Louis nodded, his gaze calm but revealing satisfaction.

In the three months he was away, Red Tide Territory had indeed undergone immense changes. For example, his daily administrative affairs were no longer conducted in the earthen castle.

The new administrative center was officially put into use, with all Red Tide departments working together, significantly improving administrative efficiency and making the entire city-state operate more smoothly.

“Well done, Bradley. You truly are the Calvin Family’s old butler; your administrative efficiency has never disappointed me,” Louis praised.

Bradley smiled slightly, clearly pleased by the compliment.

And the road they were walking on now was already vastly different from before.

Once upon a time, Red Tide Territory’s streets and alleys were just dirt roads. Although kept clean, they would become muddy in the rain, and snow would turn them into a nightmare for both people and horses.

Residents, carriages, and transport vehicles mingled together, with no one knowing which path to take.

As for drainage? That was almost a luxury. In winter, snow piled up, and frozen water turned into ice, making the entire city feel like it was sealed in a cold cage.

Now, it was different.

Under Louis’s planning, Red Tide Territory completely revamped its urban framework:

A three-tiered main road system was laid out: Central Avenue, branch streets, and residential alleys, with clear divisions of labor.

The main roads used heavy stone bricks, with some central sections pre-embedded with heating channels to melt snow and prevent slipping in winter by circulating warm water.

Snow and drainage ditches were set up along the streets, leading into specially designed snowmelt ponds, preventing uncontrolled runoff.

The alleys were rebuilt into cobblestone paths, supplemented with a gully-guided structure, both beautiful and practical.

The entire city had uniform road widths and distances, with rows of cold-hardy pines and cypresses along the roads, not only providing wind and snow shelter but also adding greenery and a sense of order.

Bradley reported softly, with a hint of undeniable pride in his voice: “One-third of the main streets are completed, and according to your blueprints, heating conduits have been connected to the Administration Building and some residential homes.”

He paused, looking at the street section still under construction ahead, “We expect the main road and auxiliary road intersections to be completed in another two months.”

Louis nodded, his gaze sweeping over the neatly laid new bricks and cleared ditches.

“Next,” he said steadily, “prioritize extending to the schools and medical workshops.”

Bradley recorded as he nodded: “Understood, my Lord. I will have the Planning Department prepare the budget and manpower in advance.”

Walking this path, the former muddy conditions were gone, and the city’s framework became increasingly clear.

After walking for a while, Bradley suddenly glanced at a familiar building in the distance, saying casually, “Actually, my Lord, regarding your earthen castle, I think it’s time to consider rebuilding it.”

Louis paused, turning to look at him: “Reason?”

Bradley coughed, saying very tactfully, “It’s—a bit out of place with the overall style of Red Tide’s main urban area now.”

“...” Louis was silent for a moment, then looked up at the old castle.

It was fully functional, structurally sound, and the first base he had personally planned.

“I think it’s actually quite good.”

“Of course, its practicality is undeniable,” Bradley respectfully added, “but in terms of appearance—it is indeed a bit, well, simple. To be honest, many people think it—it really doesn’t look like a lord’s residence; it looks more like a grain storage tower.”

“Grain storage tower?” Louis’s mouth twitched.

Bradley bowed very seriously: “Moreover, you are now the most dazzling sun in the North—your residence, of course, must also match this status. Even just standing there, it should inspire awe.”

“...”

Louis sighed.

Well, not just Bradley, even his personal knights and the head chef had mentioned this.

Since public opinion pointed in one direction, then as a lord who prioritized his people, he could only—

“Then—once the plans for other areas are ready, we’ll tear it down and rebuild,” Louis finally said, with a hint of reluctant concession in his tone.

Hearing this, Bradley visibly relaxed, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

“Thank you for your wisdom, my Lord,” he bowed respectfully, a hint of triumph flashing in his eyes—indeed, he still knew how to persuade this rational yet stubborn young lord.

Bradley knew that Louis wasn’t truly attached to that earthen castle.

It was merely a practical fortress he had planned for efficiency and safety when he first established Red Tide; it was a tool, not a symbol. He had always adhered to the philosophy of “if it works, it’s fine,” never wasting resources for vanity.

But now, it was different.

Red Tide was no longer a remote, wild outpost, but one of the fastest-rising cities in the North, with surging population, stable order, and flourishing economy.

And Louis was no longer the young man drawing blueprints in a construction tent, but one of the most powerful and popular nobles in the Empire’s North.

He had to have a castle befitting his status.

Tall, solemn, inspiring awe in visitors and striking fear into enemies.

“A castle is the face of the lord,” Bradley silently thought, “We cannot let this lord’s face be—as unadorned as a grain storage tower.”

Today’s Red Tide Territory not only had the ability to build a new castle but also the right to establish a symbol of the new era for this new city.

Looking at the ambitious Bradley, Louis inwardly grumbled, “I didn’t expect this old fellow to be a fan of wonders too.”

Then, the group arrived at the core residential area of Red Tide Territory, the first place to be revitalized in the entire territory.

This was where Red Tide’s initial “people” lived, or more precisely, the nameless ones once called slaves, wanderers, and indigenous people.

They had, with their resilience, helped Louis establish the nascent form of this city during Red Tide’s most chaotic pioneering period.

Now, they were the most central populace of this city, and Louis prioritized transforming their residential area, which they deserved. The neighborhood had now been completely renovated, replacing the earthen huts buried in the mud with rows of new buildings with unified styles and smooth lines.

Louis named them: Red Tide Dome Houses.

Bradley stood in front of a newly completed dome house, looking up slightly, introducing it with pride in his ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ voice:

“This area is 80% complete with reconstruction. All adopt your envisioned semi-buried structure; geothermal heat can circulate for heating in winter, the top automatically sheds snow to prevent collapse, and the walls are double-insulated—truly an ideal residence for cold regions.”

Louis nodded, his gaze sweeping over every door and window. The thought of those who once huddled for survival in the wind and snow now being able to breathe warm air as they opened their doors brought a certain heavy emotion within him to quietly ease.

“Residential density has decreased by half, but the space per household has nearly tripled,” Bradley continued. “Indoor temperature control, water purification, and street numbering systems have been implemented. Sanitation issues have also been resolved; since last winter, there hasn’t been a single case of infectious disease in this area.”

The streets were wide and straight, cobblestone paths crisscrossed into a network, ditches extended along the terrain, pines and cypresses provided shade, and a comforting warmth permeated the air.

The exterior walls of each house uniformly used deep gray, dark red, and dull gold, conveying warmth without losing solemnity.

Bradley chuckled softly, with an undisguised pride in his voice: “It has been completely transformed.”

Louis smiled faintly, his voice carrying a gentle approval: “Well done, Bradley.”

This was the greatest difference between Louis and traditional nobles. Other lords thought about how to exploit, collect taxes, and conscript soldiers.

He, however, thought about heating water, clearing snow, and developing the territory. He wrote his knowledge from his previous life—urban functional zoning, road grading, heating systems, architectural aesthetics—into blueprints, which now finally transformed into bricks and tiles, integrating into this territory.

And Bradley always stood by him, turning those fantastical ideas into tangible brick walls and streets.

“Next, we will extend this standard to the entire Red Tide City,” Bradley whispered, “All new districts will use dome houses and a three-color unified design to ensure a consistent urban appearance.”

Along the way, they also passed a still-unfinished plaza construction site.

Wind stirred thin snow, and over half of the gray-white stone bricks had been laid. The foundation of the central area was being compacted, and the frameworks of several tall column platforms had already taken initial shape.

Although not yet completed, one could already imagine the grand scene of crowds gathering here in the future.

Bradley stopped, pointing ahead and saying, “This is ‘Tide Square,’ adjacent to the Administration Building. According to your blueprint design, it will be used for issuing decrees, public gatherings, and military reviews in the future. Ground paving is expected to be completed next month, and it will be inaugurated before winter.”

Louis nodded.

“The other two plazas,” Bradley continued, “one is planned in the west of the city, near the newly built academies and theater, to be a recreational plaza; the other is in the South City, connecting the market, warehouses, and merchant street, and will become Red Tide’s market square.”

“Recreation, assembly, trade—three plazas, three functions,” he concluded with a nod.

Throughout the journey, Louis frequently nodded, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the new buildings along the street, the road signs at intersections, and the busy artisans and surveyors in the square.

The lines on those blueprints were transforming into real scenes, and the future blueprint was being realized brick by brick.

Finally, the two and their entourage arrived at their destination for this outing—Red Tide Territory’s Industrial Zone.

This area was located on the south slope plateau, with gentle terrain, close to the Red Tide River for water, and connected to multiple raw material transport routes, a result of Louis’s personal survey and site selection.

“It’s sheltered from wind in winter and well-ventilated in summer,” Bradley walked ahead, smiling as he introduced, “It’s close to the storage belt and material transport channels, so raw materials can enter the site immediately, and finished goods can be directly transported out of the city.”

Looking out, workshops stood in dense but orderly rows. Although chimneys emitted plumes of white smoke, there was no sense of chaos or noise.

Buildings of varying heights were precisely divided by craft: metallurgy, carpentry, alchemy and magic-guided experimentation, weaving, and leatherworking were neatly distributed, with clear layers.

“This is the final version of the third reconstruction,” Bradley said softly, with a hint of reverence in his voice.

Yes, this was no longer a temporary production site for a certain territory, but the future “industrial heart.”

It was a multi-functional base integrating production, training, and technological research and development. Fire passages were strictly divided, and sufficient safe distances were maintained between workshops. Main roads were wide and straight, facilitating the passage of large transport carriages and official inspections.

There were also centrally managed public tool sheds and material distribution stations, ensuring unified and efficient resource distribution and eliminating waste.

Artisan rest houses, canteens, shift systems—these were “details” that traditional nobles had never considered, but they were the parts Louis valued most.

The industrial zone’s apprentice training camp had also begun operation, with a new batch of young people receiving instruction from experienced artisans. In the future, they would become the first generation of artisan souls supporting the industrial backbone of this land.

“In other territories, workshops are the noisiest, most chaotic places; but here, they are a symbol of discipline, production, and technology coexisting,” Bradley looked into the distance and sighed.

Louis stood at a high vantage point, watching the entire industrial zone operate orderly under the winter sun, a slight smile on his face.

He had no doubt that this industrial zone, perhaps in the eyes of some old noble families, was still just “a gathering place for crude artisans.”

But in his eyes, this was the starting point to the future.

As Louis stepped down the stone steps, before he had fully steadied himself, a rough, booming voice came from ahead: “Yo! Our Lord is here!”

The man had a full beard, wore a heavy leather apron, and had a not-quite-clean oily cloth draped over his shoulder.

He was, of course, Mike, now also the chief artisan of the entire Red Tide Industrial Zone.

“Mike,” Louis looked at him and nodded with a smile.

Mike strode over, his movements bold, but as he approached, he subconsciously reined in his roughness a bit. He wiped his hands, covered in burn marks, on his clothes a few times before formally bowing: “My Lord, the artisan management team has arrived and is waiting in the meeting room.”

Though his tone was hearty, the solemnity and anticipation within it were evident to anyone.

Today, they were to discuss the development plan for a new weapon system, which concerned the entire future of Red Tide.