Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Night had settled outside, and only a faint red glow remained in the hearth.

Louis sat at his desk, flipping through thick workshop daily reports and labor rosters.

Now that two-thirds of the mountain road was repaired and the transportation line was open, most of the laborers would soon be idle, and he could put them to good use.

“Once the mountain road is finished, these hands can be put to other tasks, and it would be problematic if such a large group of people had no work.”

Louis took out a new piece of parchment, flattened it on the desk, and after a pause, his ink pen touched the paper.

A clean draft gradually took shape on the paper: a circular fortress outer wall, the positions of four towers, facing the main street and the square.

These were all images he had conceived in his mind for a long time.

Just then, a soft sound came from the doorway, and Louis looked back.

Emily leaned against the doorframe, draped in a light blue thin robe, her waist loosely tied.

Her blue hair was simply tied back, with a few stray strands hanging by her neck, swaying slightly with the hearth light.

She didn't walk in, just leaned by the door, one long leg naturally crossed over the other, her expression carrying a gentle weariness.

“What are you drawing?” Emily asked, her voice curious but very low, afraid of waking the child in the cradle.

Louis turned back to his drawing: “The design for the new castle.”

He added another stroke, marking the height data for the southern furnace tower. “The mountain road in Red Tide Territory is almost finished. A large number of craftsmen and laborers will be freed up. I can’t let them be idle; they have to build something.”

Upon hearing this, Emily was very ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ interested and quickly took a few steps closer, looking down at the paper. The prototype of a circular city-fortress was already taking shape.

She yawned a tiny yawn, her mouth slightly open: “Tell me about it.”

Louis continued drawing with one hand while explaining to Emily: “The main tower is located on the West Highlands, overlooking the entire city. The furnace tower is near the geothermal zone for heating. It’s surrounded by four walls, with a road in the center leading to Fierce Tide Square.”

He spoke slowly, as if meticulously considering every position in his mind.

Emily listened and looked at the design, the candlelight casting bright reflections on her face.

The lines on the design were neat and concise, sketching a magnificent castle with just a few strokes, much like the person she knew—never saying much but always doing everything perfectly.

Emily chuckled softly, then walked around behind him and leaned over to look at the paper: “You draw so well. I always feel like you can do anything.”

Her breath was very close, her white hair almost touching his shoulder.

Louis merely raised an eyebrow: “There are many things I can’t do. It’s just that I think of what needs to be done a step ahead of others.”

Emily said nothing more, her fingers on his shoulder, gently smoothing the wrinkles of Louis’s outer robe.

Louis noticed her closeness.

The warmth of the hearth mingled with her breath, carrying a faint floral scent.

He didn’t turn around, just softly said: “I’m drawing the communication tower now...”

Emily softly hummed in response, but her gaze no longer rested on the drawing.

She reached out and straightened the crooked pen holder beside him, her fingertips lingering for a moment on the back of his hand.

“It’s too late. You should rest,” she whispered.

Louis looked up, his gaze meeting Emily’s. Neither of them spoke.

He reached out to snuff the candle wick, leaving only dimness in the room.

The sound of snow still fell outside the window, and the room was so quiet that only intermittent soft hums remained... Morning light filtered through the gaps in the thick curtains, falling into the messy room.

Mac opened his eyes and first saw the huge beam on the ceiling.

The room was large, but messy like a construction site.

Wooden crates were stacked halfway up the wall, blueprints and unfinished ale lay scattered on the table, and even tools brought back from the workshop were in the corner.

On the other side of the bed, his old wife was still curled up, mumbling half-asleep: “You just came back two days ago, and you’re going to work again?”

Mac sat up, putting on his sawdust-stained jacket: “Lord Louis called for me; he said it’s important business.”

His old wife sighed, pulling the blanket over her head: “You, you see Lord Louis more often than you see me.”

Mac smiled, said nothing, grabbed a few pieces of leftover bread from last night, and poured himself some cold tea.

The taste wasn't great, but he was used to it, and besides, in other parts of the North, even this bit of bread was a luxury.

When he left the house, it wasn't fully light yet, and the cold wind immediately rushed into his collar.

Mac tightened his cloak and got into the waiting carriage at the door: “To the administrative building, please.”

The coachman immediately cracked his whip, and the wheels crunched over the flagstones with a crisp sound.

For convenience, Mac’s house was near the artisan quarter.

The streetlights were still sparse, but the smoke plumes from the distant forging area were already rising, carrying the smell of coal.

Red Tide’s main street gradually became lively. Many apprentices and craftsmen recognized him, stopping their work to wave at the carriage window:

“Good morning, Lord Mac!”

“Are things stable at the harbor?”

Mac lifted the curtain and nodded in response.

The carriage wasn't very warm, but he felt a long-lost sense of peace.

After months of work, Dawn Harbor was now on track and fully entrusted to Russell, no longer needing his old bones to oversee it.

Over the years, Mac had watched Red Tide Territory transform from a desolate wasteland, with roads, bridges, and city walls being built.

Thinking that he could be a part of it, a warmth surged in his heart.

Five years ago, he was an old craftsman abandoned by the old guild of Frost Halberd City, but now he had become Red Tide’s Chief Engineer.

“The Lord’s kindness is truly not to be taken lightly,” he muttered softly, a smile on his lips.

The outline of the misty administrative building’s tower gradually became clear.

It was the cleanest place in Red Tide City; the stone bricks were newly laid, and the emblem at the entrance was polished bright.

Mac pushed the door open. The meeting hall was warm, the stove burning brightly.

Louis sat at the head of the table, Bradley stood to one side, and a young clerk was organizing scrolls.

Mac paused, then quickly took off his gloves: “Apologies, Lord, have I kept you waiting?”

Louis looked up: “No, you’re just in time.”

Mac glanced at the piles of parchment on the table, feeling puzzled.

He had only been back from Dawn Harbor for three days, and after just catching his breath, he was called into the main hall. This didn't seem like a routine report.

Louis skipped the pleasantries and spread several blueprints on the table.

The corners of the thick parchment were held down by stones. Mac tilted his head to look.

The blueprints were already densely covered with drawings; it wasn't a casual idea but a complete set of plans.

It was the prototype of a circular fortress, with outer walls embracing the main castle. The south tower was near the geothermal zone, and the west tower stood on a high slope, overlooking the entire city.

Cross-sections, towers, underground levels, and pipeline routes were all neatly drawn, layered one on top of another, as if they could be sent directly to the workshop for immediate construction.

Mac held his breath, his fingers involuntarily reaching out: “This... are you planning to?”

Louis stated directly: “To build a real castle. The mountain road is almost finished, and the craftsmen and laborers are free. It’s time to start.”

“A castle?” Mac repeated, his eyes gradually brightening from surprise.

Louis nodded.

“Finally!” Mac couldn’t help but laugh, his voice filled with uncontrollable excitement. “To be honest, Lord, what I disliked most these past few years were those few earthen towers.

Although it’s not cold in winter, how can that be the heart of a territory? Red Tide Territory is already the first in the North, and the Lord lives in those cylindrical buildings.”

Bradley interjected: “This indeed should have been done sooner. Lord Louis finalized the initial plan last night. We invited you today to confirm the procedures and timeline.”

Louis picked up his pen, the tip gently tapping the parchment: “The outer wall will be five meters thick, starting construction from the northern section.”

Then, following the ink line, he drew a clean arc: “The rock layers here are solid and can bear the weight. Once the foundation is stable, we’ll extend it south.

The outer wall will have a double-layer structure, with power and exhaust pipes inside, and cold iron on the outer layer. The tower tops will be covered with red copper, which can conduct heat and prevent ice.

Geothermal pipes must be laid in advance, under the first floor, along the entire northern side. This is the furnace tower, close to the geothermal zone, where we can try a steam heart for heating.”

He looked up at Mac: “Can it be done? Will it be too difficult?”

Mac scratched his beard: “It will require several more diversion pipes, but it can be done. If the fire pressure is too high, we’ll add a buffer valve. As for the steam heart, I’ll have Hamilton’s side try it out.”

Louis nodded, adding a mark to the drawing.

Bradley, watching from the side, interjected: “What about the grain storage area? Will it get too hot if it’s too close?”

Louis thought for a moment, then drew another partition wall outside the wing: “Adding a ventilation shaft on this floor will export the heat, so there won’t be a problem.”

Bradley nodded, saying nothing more.

Louis continued drawing upwards.

“This is the west tower and the main castle,” he indicated the outline of the tower body. “The main castle will be my residence and also serve as a watchtower. The tower top needs an observation deck and a beacon platform.”

“We can add a spiral staircase,” Mac supplemented, “that way it’s easier to operate in case of an emergency signal.”

“The east tower is for communication, with swift birds and signal flags. The north tower is for defense, storing spare weapons and magic explosion devices. The main road enters from the south gate, leading directly to Fierce Tide Square.”

Mac listened, nodding continuously, his eyes fixed on the blueprint: “What about the width of this main road?”

“Eight meters,” Louis replied, “enough for cargo carts to travel side by side.”

“What materials should be used then?”

“You decide the materials.”

... The conversation between the two was short, clean, and the annotations on the blueprint became increasingly dense.

When all designs were finalized.

Mac stared at the design blueprint for a long time before saying: “This layout is too perfect... Defense, heating, and transportation are all thoroughly considered.

Lord, this is not a concept a craftsman could draw. If you were a craftsman, you would be the world’s number one craftsman.”

Louis merely said faintly: “Less flattery.”

“Hehe,” Mac scratched his hair awkwardly, “I’m serious.”

Bradley also looked at the blueprint with great excitement: “If this is truly built according to the drawing, it will indeed become the number one castle in the North, truly a wonder.”

Mac laughed: “That’s good, it’s only fitting for the greatness of the Lord.”

Louis put down his pen and pushed the drawing between them: “Any other questions? If not, you can take it back and refine it.”

Mac shook his head, his expression rarely serious: “No questions, Lord. Even if I die on the construction site, I will build this castle for you.”

Louis looked at him, smiling: “I can’t bear for you to die. If you collapse, I’ll have to supervise it myself.”

“Then I’ll give it my all!” Mac rolled up the blueprint, tied it with a string, and felt lighthearted.

When he stood up, his chair slid backward with a thud.

“I’ll go arrange the manpower at the workshop,” Mac said with a smiling salute, his voice brimming with excitement. “This time, I’ll let them see the wonder drawn by the Lord.”

Louis simply nodded: “Go.”

Mac responded, turned, and strode out the door.

The moment the thick door closed, only the low burning of the hearth remained in the air.

Bradley stood still, and only when Mac’s footsteps had completely faded did he take a letter from his Pregnant.

The envelope was sealed with a dark blue wax stamp, the imprint of a dragon.

“This arrived last night,” he said, his voice deliberately lowered, “A letter from His Royal Highness, Sixth Prince Asta.”

Louis took the letter and opened it immediately.

He scanned the letter, his lips moving slightly, as if reading its contents:

“In April next year, the Frost Dragon Territory will host the North Reconstruction Conference. It will be presided over by Imperial Envoy Camille, and local lords are required to send representatives to attend to discuss the future of the North and reconstruction plans for the territories...”

Louis put the letter down, tapping his fingers gently on the table twice.

“That means the next North Reconstruction Conference will be held in April next year, and the location has been set in Frost Dragon Territory.”

Bradley frowned, his voice lowered: “Without consulting you?”

Louis shook his head, but his tone was calm, even carrying a hint of detached pity: “No, he explicitly stated in the letter that he, on behalf of all the lords of the North, sincerely invites Red Tide Territory to attend, and he even calculated the time for me.”

Bradley’s expression grew colder: “Although he is the Imperial-appointed Reconstruction Envoy, which of the North’s current affairs—governance, supply lines, military preparations—isn’t maintained by you, Lord? His arrangements... it’s as if he is the Lord of the North.”

Louis chuckled, his smile devoid of any dissatisfaction, instead carrying a hint of nonchalance.

“It’s normal for him to want some presence. After all, life in Frost Dragon Territory isn’t easy.” He refolded the letter and placed it aside. “Frost Dragon Territory isn’t far from Red Tide, and the journey is convenient enough. I’ll go and take a look.”

Bradley nodded, still somewhat displeased: “Shall I draft the reply?”

“Yes,” Louis said, “Write that I will attend on time.”

Bradley noted it in his book.

Louis leaned back in his chair, looking out the window: “Originally, I had planned to hold a conference in two years anyway. I have to meet them eventually, and it’s not good to stay in Red Tide Territory all the time. Seeing other people’s cities might lead to some wonderful discoveries.”

“Then I’ll go prepare,” Bradley closed his book and bowed before leaving.

Only Louis remained in the room, pondering the contents of the letter.

He wasn’t worried about this prince using his power to usurp authority, for in this frozen land, whoever controlled the grain controlled order.

The Empire gave Asta a title but not a cart of flour, so such an envoy was destined to live by posturing alone.

Well, it was a good opportunity to see how many nobles in the North were truly loyal to him.