Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

The small city in the Western Marches of the Empire was swallowed by night, the streets so quiet that only the boots of patrolling knights could be heard.

No one would have expected that the Azure Tide Guild of the Emerald Federation had hidden the Empire's most confidential liaison office in this remote town.

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An alchemical lamp hung over the desk, its flame flickering, illuminating a mountain of ledgers and encrypted files.

Selnar Grover sat behind the desk, reviewing the latest imperial capital intelligence, the spiral emblem on his chest glinting dark gold in the dim light.

Outside the door, there was a hurried footsteps and a knock.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and Layton Frome entered, draped in a cloak covered with frost, his steps frantic.

Selnar looked up at him, somewhat surprised, and said, "It seems your mission ran into trouble."

Layton swallowed, "The North — — — — it's exposed."

"Exposed?" Selnar's brow twitched imperceptibly, and he leaned back in his chair. "I asked you to bring intelligence, not trouble."

Layton gave a wry smile, taking a letter from his In my arms. The wax seal bore a golden-red sun emblem. That was the insignia of the Red Tide in the North.

Selnar did not reach out, only said coldly, "Speak."

Layton took a deep breath: "The Red Tide Lord Louis Calvin personally met me. He said the Red Tide doesn't kill spies, it only does business. Then he asked me to bring this letter back to you."

Selnar was silent for a moment, then finally reached out and took the letter.

The letter unfolded, its content not a threat, but rather a formal trade proposal. The words in the letter were not aggressive, but a very sincere invitation for the Azure Tide Guild to do business with the Red Tide, specifying the exchange of ores, fuel, leather, and Cold Iron for salt crystals, grain, wine, and alchemical raw materials.

The last sentence at the end: "The Red Tide does not oppose guests from the Federation, it only hopes the Federation learns to respect the rules of the North."

The alchemical lamp dimmed, and the air in the room seemed to freeze.

Layton lowered his head, cold sweat trickling down his temples, even his breathing became lighter.

Selnar didn't speak immediately, he just tapped the edge of the letter with the back of his finger, his gaze calm.

"So, he said slowly, "he saw through your identity, exposed our outpost, yet neither killed you nor confiscated the goods, only asked you to bring this letter back?"

Layton nodded with difficulty, "Yes, Lord. He — — — — his attitude was very calm, as if he had been waiting for me."

Selnar glanced at him, without blame. He looked up at the imperial map on the wall.

On that northern snowfield, which he had once regarded as a barren buffer zone, six months ago he had personally circled a name in red ink — Louis Calvin.

This name had frequently appeared in his ears in recent years.

A discarded son, treated as a waste by his family and sent to the North for development, who should have rotted in the frozen soil with a bunch of unlucky nobles, yet in just a few short years, he fought several wars.

He contributed to the annihilation of the Snowsworn, and in the Calamity of Insects and the Battle of Buried Bones, he directly pulled half of the North out of the abyss.

He married into the Edmund Family, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» and after Duke Edmund's death, he naturally took over his military power and territory.

The intelligence officer had only one comment on this: the North now has only one voice, and that is Louis Calvin.

Selnar unfolded the letter again and read it carefully.

The letter contained no threats, no idle talk, just a calm outline of an entire cooperation framework.

The Red Tide could provide a long-term stable supply of rare northern minerals such as Cold Iron and magma essence, with the Azure Tide Guild supplying salt crystals, cold ore, gold coins, and alchemical potion raw materials in exchange.

It included clauses for winter storage and transportation subsidies, graded pricing for goods, and detailed rules for breach of contract and delayed payments. Each clause was numbered, and the estimated profit for each transaction was calculated to a degree that even he could not find fault with.

Selnar did a rough calculation; it was indeed a clean and good business.

But he wasn't swayed by the numbers. He turned sideways and asked, "Tell me the current situation in the North again."

Layton immediately composed himself, lowering his voice and quickly reporting: "Within the Red Tide territory, grain prices have not changed for three seasons, rising in an orderly manner; the Red Tide System is being promoted to surrounding territories, with over half of the Northern nobles joining.

Workshops operate day and night, and goods flow continuously on the Dawn Harbor and inland routes. While other parts of the Empire are in chaos, only there are things piling up."

These were all basic information about the Red Tide, nothing confidential, something every ordinary merchant in the Red Tide could deduce.

Selnar listened quietly, nodded, and did not press Layton further, having already made his judgment.

"He understands governance and the human heart. He can transform a wasteland into a territory, and he knows when to offer a way out, turning enemies into business partners.

He is both a ruler and a merchant.

Once such a person truly establishes himself, even if the other party doesn't initiate it, the Emerald Federation will have to proactively draw a new northern trade route.

Selnar leaned back in his chair, his thoughts gradually calming, reorganizing his logic, and making judgments layer by layer in his mind.

The North had been plagued by wars for years, without even a port, making it unworthy of investment. Now, if Louis could truly consistently deliver goods, he would be the gold mine of the North.

The imperial family was embroiled in infighting, old nobles were observing, the new noble alliance was fractured, and various guilds had their own agendas, some even aggressively wanting to directly interfere in the succession struggle.

The Azure Tide Guild had little investment in the Empire and did not want to disrupt it; it only wanted a stable environment for business.

If there truly was a rift between the Calvin Family and Louis, then this letter would be the best evidence, indicating that the Red Tide wanted to break away from the old system and needed new support.

Northern minerals are rare and exquisite, some even difficult for the Federation to mine.

If a stable supply could be obtained through the Red Tide, the Guild would not only be able to suppress the Ashes Guild but also establish an independent commercial line.

To refuse would likely lead to exclusion in the future; to cooperate would immediately open up a new path.

"Investment? No, it's business. We want ore, he wants prosperity." He murmured to himself, "This is a match made in heaven."

Selnar leaned forward again and wrote an order on the document: "Approve contact with the Red Tide. Layton will maintain communication, and one trade envoy will be dispatched to establish a post station in the Red Tide under the name of the Cold Salt Merchant Guild. Transactions are limited to minerals and alchemical materials, not involving military supplies or intelligence."

Finally, he left a short comment in the file: "Louis Calvin, a King of the North worth taking seriously."

The first ray of sunlight illuminated the domed houses of Red Tide Main City, and the city bell rang, signaling the start of the festival.

Breakfast was still on the table in the Smith family's house: freshly baked rye bread, hot milk, and a pot of stew.

Smith was holding a bowl, smiling as he watched his daughter get honey all over her hands.

"Today is Spring Festival," Mary said, wiping her daughter's mouth with a smile, "After we eat, we'll go to the square to see the show."

— —.

Irene was so excited she couldn't even hold her spoon steady: "Really? Can I still get a stamp? Can I still eat candy cakes?"

"Of course you can," Smith said, smiling as he ruffled her hair.

Mary looked at the morning mist rising outside the window; such a morning felt like a dream.

There was no hunger, no fear, only a steaming breakfast and a child waiting to play.

Mary cleared the dishes, pushed open the door, and her exhaled breath scattered in the morning light.

Wearing a thick coat, she linked arms with her husband Smith, while their daughter Irene ran ahead, laughing and waving the punch card she got from school.

"Slow down, don't fall!" Mary called out, her voice drowned out by the laughter of the crowd.

On the street, the steam from the bread stalls mingled with the smell of fish, and vendors shouted: "Three copper coins for three grilled fish! Honey water special today!"

Children lined up to get stamps, and the factory whistles occasionally sounded in the distance, as if accompanying the festival.

Smith smiled and took his wife's hand: "Do you remember the winter in Frost Halberd? Back then, we couldn't even afford bread."

Mary nodded, her eyes gentle: "It's different now."

They stopped at South City Square, bought a string of grilled fish, and then watched blacksmithing at a craftsman's stall.

Sparks flew, and the sound of hammers was as rhythmic as music.

Irene watched with wide eyes as the blacksmith took the festival commemorative medal from the mold and handed it to her, making her jump with joy.

The square was bustling in the afternoon, with stalls lined up one after another.

Mary saw children playing ring toss and coin toss, their winning wooden puppets held high.

It was a wooden stall, the rings made of hemp rope. The owner was a short old craftsman with a gray beard, who saw Irene and smiled teasingly, "Little girl, want to try?"

Irene nodded excitedly, so Smith took out ten iron coins and handed them to the owner.

Irene held the ring high, her tongue slightly out, carefully aiming at the rag doll in the red dress.

The ring flew out, spun once in the air, and landed steadily.

"Hit!" The old craftsman laughed heartily, "This child has talent, it must be a gift from the heavens!"

Smith took the doll and casually asked, "How's business lately?"

The old craftsman wiped the sweat from his forehead: "Not bad, everyone has money these past few years, and when the festival comes, children are willing to spend. We have Lord Louis to thank."

Smith also added, "Thank Lord Louis."

3

Mary also smiled and nodded.

The sun illuminated the crowd, blacksmiths, fishermen, merchants, soldiers — — — —

The people of Red Tide City were all smiling, their laughter warm and genuine. Although it was still snowing, everything felt warm.

Mary looked at the crowd, her heart suddenly aching a little.

She remembered when she was the daughter of a middle-class merchant in Frost Halberd City, life was not as stable as outsiders imagined, and she even went hungry in winter. Life improved a little after marrying her husband, a knight captain, but supplies were always scarce.

And thinking of her fear when she first heard about moving to the Red Tide, Mary chuckled softly. Her worries back then now seemed truly laughable.

She once thought this wasteland held only snow and death, but now it had become her warmest home. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Now she had her own home in the Red Tide, a two-story domed house, with a warm stove and hot pipes flowing underground all night.

The house had a granary, a fireplace, and gold coins stored in a wooden box.

And she understood that abundance was not piles of gold and silver, but not having to worry about tomorrow's meal.

Mary usually worked part-time as a deacon at the orphanage, managing ledgers and distributing rations.

Because she was literate and good at arithmetic, she was called Miss Mary, with a monthly salary of two silver coins.

Although her husband Smith still rotated on the outer defense line, he could return to the city for two months each year; those two months were her most peaceful time of the year.

And her daughter Irene, now six years old, was attending the Red Tide Academy.

Although she couldn't write well yet and only knew arithmetic up to ten, she excitedly read the announcements posted on the wall to Mary every day.

Mary whispered to Smith, "I never imagined we could have a life like this."

Smith grinned, "It's all thanks to Lord Louis."

Mary nodded, but didn't respond, just looked at her daughter's excited smile, thinking that this was the true spring.

The afternoon festival activities had just begun, and the family of three played and ate.

Children's laughter came from the puppet theater on the street corner, and young craftsmen dressed as monsters ran around in the parade.

There was a 'Little Hero Challenge' set up on the street, where children had to cross a suspension bridge, crawl through barrels, and finally ring a copper bell to get candy.

Irene rushed to the front, but fell off the suspension bridge, making Mary laugh until tears came out.

They also watched artists blow fire and paint lanterns in front of temporary stalls — — — —

As dusk fell, the bells rang, and Mary took her daughter's hand, saying to Smith, "Come on, it's time to go to the square."

Along the way, the crowd grew denser, the air filled with laughter and the smell of wine.

"I heard Lord Louis is going to speak tonight." Someone nearby said excitedly.

Smith was momentarily stunned, then smiled: "This is a rare occasion; the last time I saw him was when he traveled last year."

Irene tugged on Mary's hand, her eyes sparkling: "Mom, will I be able to see Lord Louis later?"

"Of course you can." Mary smiled, squatted down, and tightened her daughter's scarf, "But you have to be good and don't run around."

They followed the crowd into the center of the square. The fire pillars had not yet been lit, and the surrounding banners fluttered in the wind.

The crowd was dense, almost shoulder to shoulder. Children were held in their parents' arms to prevent them from getting lost.

"I haven't seen so many people gathered together in years." Smith looked up at the surrounding banners and sighed.

Mary was being pushed back by the crowd step by step, yet she couldn't help but smile and nod, feeling a little anticipation in her heart.

That Lord, perhaps he would say something.

Just then, a familiar voice sounded from beside them: "Madam Mary?"

She turned around and saw Quartermaster Pete, the young official who often came to the orphanage to deliver grain and coal. He was carrying a bag of pastries, with his usual smile on his face.

"Mr. Pete! What a coincidence." Mary was a little surprised.

"Yes, I'm here to help maintain order." He chuckled playfully.

Smith also smiled and nodded: "You all worked hard tonight."

Pete waved his hand: "Not at all, it's what we should do."

As soon as he finished speaking, the fire pillars were lit with the sound of horns, and flames shot up, illuminating the entire Sun Square.

The clamor of the crowd instantly turned into a roar: "Lord Louis!"

The lights on the high platform came on, cutting through the snowy mist, and that figure walked forward from the flames.

He was not wearing golden armor, nor was he surrounded by attendants, only draped in a Red Tide cape.

The young Lord's expression was calm. He surveyed the crowd, his eyes gentle, and when he raised his hand, the bustling square of thousands truly fell silent.

Children looked up, adults held their breath, soldiers put down their wine glasses, and even the sound of the wind seemed to soften.

Mary looked at Louis on the stage, her heart inexplicably warm.

At this moment, all the lights seemed to converge on this young Lord.

Mary suddenly understood why people always said: "The Lord of the Red Tide is like the sun."