Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

On the morning after the festival, faint smoke still rose from the lingering bonfires in the valleys of Wheat Wave Territory.

After the autumn harvest, there were a few days of holiday, and most of the people were still asleep. Occasionally, a few cleaners were on the square, picking up scattered decorations and moving festival supplies, quietly restoring the square to its original state.

Green, however, was already standing by the road leading to the mountain path, his posture straight, waiting for the Lord's arrival.

Lord Louis rode on his warhorse, his sword hanging at his waist, his cloak gently swaying in the breeze.

He glanced over the valley. Although he felt a little reluctant to leave this scene of bountiful harvest, he had to set off today.

Because he had promised Emily to return to Red Tide Main City early.

After all, she had been pregnant for a long time, and her father had recently passed away, so she needed someone by her side even more at this moment.

Since the most important task, the autumn harvest, had been resolved, other less important matters in the territory could be put aside, and he could focus on accompanying Emily.

Secondly, according to the Daily Intelligence System, an envoy from the Imperial Capital was about to arrive at Red Tide Main City to convey the contents of the Dragon Throne Council and the promotion of his peerage.

Therefore, he had to return to ensure he showed the appropriate level of importance to the Empire, even though he already knew the general contents of the envoy's message from the intelligence system.

Of course, before leaving, Lord Louis still had to personally give instructions for a few final tasks after the autumn harvest.

He trusted Green, but for an important territory like Wheat Wave, a few extra reminders were always better than errors appearing later.

So he summoned Green to his side: "Within three days, you must complete the distribution of rewards for the top ten villages and towns on the 'Cultivation List'.

The private land allocation blueprints must be delivered to every village head. Tools and livestock are to be distributed according to the List, without any omissions.

Exemption certificates and citizenship for children must also be fully registered, and public notice boards erected in the village and town centers to ensure transparency in rewards and punishments.

Merit cannot be delayed. Everyone must know that I remember every drop of sweat from the laborers."

Green nodded, the tip of his pen glowing slightly in his ledger.

Lord Louis thought for a moment, then continued: "Winter preparations must also begin.

Organize a canal repair team to inspect the irrigation canals, bone fertilizer ponds, and geothermal pipelines for spring plowing, and clear out the silt.

Additionally, the wear and tear of tools and livestock must be clearly accounted for, and winter supply plans arranged early.

The entire autumn harvest process must be documented and transcribed into three copies of the 'Wheat Wave Autumn Harvest Document'.

One copy will be sent to the Red Tide Main City Agricultural Department, one will be archived in Wheat Wave Territory, and one will be for subsequent institutionalized output, to replicate the Wheat Wave model in other territories."

Green silently noted down every instruction, secretly admiring the Lord's meticulousness.

Lord Louis paused, his gaze falling on the displaced people in the distance who were finishing up their work:

"The displaced people who joined after the autumn harvest need to be identified and assigned. Prioritize keeping people from the harvest villages in their original locations. The remaining people can gradually develop the second batch of barren land.

Also, draft a list of personnel for the winter agricultural training class, and select farmers' children who are willing to retrain as artisans or technicians."

Green took a deep breath, noting down each item.

These were the keys to keeping Wheat Wave Territory running even without the Lord present.

Lord Louis patted his shoulder: "Green, these are my requirements. The rest is up to you. I trust you with Wheat Wave Territory."

Green immediately bowed and replied: "Your subordinate understands. I will not fail your trust."

Ferran, meanwhile, sat on his horse at the side of the valley, holding the reins, quietly watching Green record and verify each item like a list.

Although he had never been a civil official, having been by Duke Edmund's side for many years, he had, through observation, come to understand the logic of administrative operations.

He watched Lord Louis give each instruction one by one.

Grain, rewards, straw, supplies, training classes—

Every link was clear and interconnected.

Indeed, the smooth operation here was not due to chance, but to Lord Louis's planning and execution.

This young Lord was steady and unassuming, his allocations and instructions were just right; he was truly a good Lord.

"Let's go, back to Red Tide Main City."

As he was lost in thought, Lord Louis's voice came from beside him.

Ferran turned his head slightly and saw Lord Louis already on horseback, his cloak gently fluttering in the morning breeze.

He responded in a low voice, gathered his thoughts, then mounted his horse and followed behind Lord Louis.

The journey to Red Tide Main City would still take a few days, but Ferran felt a slight sense of excitement in his heart.

It was said that the city was even more magnificent and spectacular, a wonder of the North.

After witnessing the Wheat Wave wonder, a hint of anticipation for the Red Tide wonder couldn't help but rise in his heart.

As the sound of hooves entered the mountain bend, a roar and clanging suddenly came from ahead.

The crisp sound of hammers smashing rocks, the creaking of wheelbarrows, and the low rumble of steam bellows intertwined, a bit chaotic but full of life.

A road construction team of several hundred people was busy between the valley entrance.

Artisans swung hammers, breaking rocks piece by piece and filling potholes.

Laborers pushed wheelbarrows, transporting rocks and sand back and forth, sweat dripping down their backs.

Steam bellows roared, the airbox "huffing" out hot air, melting viscous adhesive material, pouring it into the rock crevices, gradually sealing the road surface.

And at a stone table nearby, civil officials were buried in their writing, registering work hours and material consumption, the accounts clear and orderly.

A small flag of the Red Tide Commerce Department stood at the roadblock, and a notice board hung on a wooden post.

"This road is under construction. Work can be exchanged for food, including meals and accommodation. The construction period is six months."

As Lord Louis and his party appeared, the workers immediately stirred.

Many recently surrendered displaced people were particularly excited. They originally had no skills, and in other territories, they would have been treated as unpaid slaves.

But in Red Tide, they were assigned to the road construction team: they had food every day, work points for deductions, and even received small amounts of iron and copper coins.

"It's Lord Louis!" someone recognized him and whispered.

"This is—Lord Louis!" A young man tightened his grip on his hammer, his eyes both nervous and full of curiosity.

They had heard many old artisans boast: for example, the great Red Tide Lord could fight a hundred barbarians alone.

It made them curious about what he actually looked like. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Would he truly be as majestic and powerful, with three heads and six arms, as the legends claimed?

But when they saw him with their own eyes, they found that the man was just quietly riding on his horse.

His appearance was refined, his figure tall and slender, his expression stern and steady.

There was no miraculous aura of legend, nor any unapproachable imposing presence.

It was just that when Lord Louis passed by, he gently nodded to them and smiled.

At that moment, it was as if the rare winter sun had shone through thick clouds, warmly bathing their hearts.

Everyone felt that Lord Louis was smiling at them.

So the displaced people, who had been expecting a spectacle, were not disappointed.

Instead, in this unexpected ordinariness, a deeper sense of emotion and belonging arose.

Looking at the half-completed road, Lord Louis did not exchange many pleasantries, asking: "How is the progress of this road?"

A foreman quickly replied: "Lord Louis, in another half a month, the mountain path will be completely paved. Then, caravans from Red Tide will be able to go directly to the Wheat Wave valley entrance."

Lord Louis nodded, said no more, and continued riding forward.

At this point, Ferran couldn't help but frown: "This mountain road—it's clearly passable, why go to such great lengths to repair it?"

Lord Louis turned his head and answered without hesitation: "Passable and easy to travel are two different things. If only relying on horses, people can barely manage to walk in the snow, but a team of carriages and horses, if they encounter rain, snow, or mud, will get stuck halfway. And most of the North experiences snowy weather, so roads are the lifeline of the territory. If goods and grain cannot arrive on time, everything is in vain."

He looked at the displaced people ahead who were pulling stones with carts: "So it must be repaired."

Ferran was stunned, looking with complex emotions at the stone road taking shape before him.

After passing through the mountain path, and then descending, the dust and gravel gradually smoothed out.

In less than half a day, a newly built post ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) station came into view.

This post station was built at the confluence of river valleys, with blue bricks and gray tiles, and the words "Red Tide Post" hanging under the eaves.

More than a dozen merchant caravans' large carts were parked in the courtyard, and horses leisurely drank water from long troughs.

It was a merchant caravan from the South, with tarpaulins covering the carriages, vaguely revealing the shape of wine barrels.

Smoke curled up from the stove, and the drivers gathered around a bonfire, drinking thin porridge, with occasional bursts of laughter.

When Lord Louis and his entourage entered the post station, it immediately attracted many gazes.

"It's Lord Louis!" someone whispered, but there was no clamor, only respectful eyes watching from afar.

The middle-aged merchant leading the team, seeing Lord Louis, bravely stepped forward to salute: "Lord, we met before. This time we came from the South,

and are going to Red Tide Main City to sell red wine."

After a few pleasantries, the merchant couldn't help but exclaim: "I have never traveled north so smoothly.

In the old North, it was common for wheels to get stuck in the snow, but now it's smooth all the way. The roads in Red Tide are even smoother than those in the South."

Several people nearby also echoed: "Yes, Red Tide can sell goods, and everyone has money to buy things! I heard that fewer and fewer people are going to Frost Halberd City—"

A few ordinary business remarks, but they made Ferran's heart tighten slightly.

Frost Halberd City, the city he had guarded his entire life, once the heart of the North, was now so lightly dismissed as declining.

He turned to look at the continuous stream of people in the post station, Red Tide's commoners, displaced people, and merchants coming and going.

As the commander of the Frost Iron Knights, he should have been pleased with the prosperity of the North, but deep down, he couldn't help but feel a little melancholy.

Frost Halberd City, which he had protected his whole life, was losing its former glory.

And this new territory, opened up by Lord Louis, was rising as the new commercial center of the North.

Ferran was silent for a long time, finally murmuring: "Perhaps, this is just the times changing."

He was immersed in complex emotions when he suddenly heard Lord Louis's voice.

"Don't overthink it, Ferran. Get some good rest. In two more days, we will reach Red Tide Main City."

Lord Louis said it lightly, his eyes still calm, showing no signs of having perceived his thoughts.

Ferran nodded slightly, the hint of melancholy in his heart suppressed, and he followed behind Lord Louis.

Two days later.

The morning mist gradually dispersed, and on the distant horizon, a magnificent city silhouette slowly appeared.

Red Tide Main City, the foundation of Lord Louis's power.

It was not as resplendent as the Imperial Capital, but it had its own aura of profoundness and solidity.

High walls towered, winding up along the mountainside, watchtowers stood tall, and crimson flags fluttered, gleaming in the sunlight.

The grayish-white stone city walls reflected cold light under a thin layer of frost, and Frost Iron beams were deeply embedded in the stone layers, as if the city were clad in steel armor, exuding a unique sense of oppression.

The city gates were tall and heavy, with Frost Iron nails densely covering the wooden panels, reflecting the morning light like a forest of sharp blades.

From Ferran's knightly perspective, the city's defense system was quite complete.

Although it still couldn't compare to Frost Halberd City, which had been tempered by centuries and was as solid as a rock.

But considering that this city had taken shape in just a few years, he had to admit in his heart that it was a miracle.

The gates of Red Tide Main City slowly closed behind them.

The knights and members of the Frost Iron Knights who had followed along had not yet had a chance to carefully observe the prosperity and grandeur of Red Tide Main City when Lord Louis reined in his horse.

He did not personally lead the way as usual, merely giving a simple instruction: "Bradley, take them to their quarters."

After speaking, he turned and left, without even an extra word of explanation.

Everyone exchanged glances.

This was unlike Lord Louis's usual style. In the past, no matter when, he was always steady and thorough, never neglecting hospitality, and certainly wouldn't leave newly arrived knights to their own devices.

Just as some were exchanging glances, the old butler Bradley smiled slightly, clarifying for his master.

"Gentlemen, don't overthink it," he said in a low voice, "Lord Louis is eager to see his wife. After all, she is about to give birth."

"Ah!" Everyone suddenly understood, and their faces immediately showed knowing smiles.

"So that's it."

"That explains it."

"Well—yes, he should go back and spend time with Miss Emily."

Especially the several officers of the Frost Iron Knights, who looked at each other, their doubts immediately dissipated, replaced by a sense of approval.

After all, the child in her womb was not only Lord Louis's heir but also the grandson of the late Duke Edmund.

For them, as Frost Iron Knights, this was also very important.

Lord Louis himself, however, barely paused.

His cloak flapped in the wind as he strode quickly towards the earthen castle in the south of the city.

The Red Tide castle plan had long been drawn up, but due to the urgent road construction and defense projects, all available manpower and artisans had been diverted.

Castle construction was forced to be postponed, and he, Emily, and others still lived in the original earthen castle.

But in fact, that earthen castle was not crude; after all, it had only been built for less than two years, it just looked a bit unappealing from the outside.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, the stove fire inside was warm.

Emily was leaning on the couch, her nearly eight-month pregnant belly prominent, her cheeks flushed in the firelight.

The maid beside her quietly attended to her, bringing her water and spreading blankets.

Sif sat by her side, chatting with her to relieve boredom.

Seeing Lord Louis return, Emily's eyes showed a hint of relief, her voice faint but gentle: "You're back."

Lord Louis walked forward and gently stroked her shoulder: "Yes, I'm back."

The birth of the child was only a month away, and winter was fast approaching.

Looking at Emily's swollen abdomen, he had already made up his mind that he would no longer travel around before the next half-season arrived.

At least this winter, he would stay here, by her and their child's side.