Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 234 Post-Disaster Issues
Louis slowly opened his eyes, and what came into view was the familiar wooden ceiling of Red Tide City.

"……I'm back."

As consciousness gradually cleared, the tension that had been weighing on my chest all the way finally began to dissipate.

A soft touch and a soft breathing sound came from my side.

Sif and Emily clung to him like two octopuses, one on his left and one on his right.

Her silver and blue hair was intertwined in the bedding, her cheeks were flushed, her breath was warm, and her expression was relaxed, as if she was still immersed in the afterglow of last night's reunion.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that's certainly true.

Louis gave a soft, wry smile, his fingertips tracing the strands of hair on Emily's shoulder, then touching the fine hairs near Sif's earlobe.

But now is not the time to indulge in the pleasures of love.

He moved his body very slightly, like a fugitive sneaking away, and quietly withdrew his arm without waking them.

He exhaled, slowly raised his hand, and made a sweeping motion in the air.

"Daily intelligence system activated."

With a deep hum, a blue-white, semi-transparent interface emerged from the void.

The information appeared like raindrops, carrying a cool, clear light, and quickly arranged itself:
[Daily intelligence update complete]

[1: The Witch of Despair has transformed into the "Seed of the End" and is currently dormant deep within the earth's crust, expected to awaken in 10 years.]

[2: Titus Frostwolf has taken advantage of the chaos in the Mother Nest to unify the remnants of the Frostmoon and has proclaimed himself "Lord of the Northern Frost." His expansionist intentions are clear, and his goal may be to integrate the northern barbarian tribes.]

[3: The mage group investigating the situation at Mage Forest has already departed for the Northern Territory.]

His face, which had been showing signs of weariness, instantly became alert.

"He's not completely dead?" His fingertips suddenly stopped, and his brows furrowed deeply.

He witnessed the End Nest collapse into the Earth's core amidst flames and gravity.

But the source of this war, the desperate witch who destroyed the entire North, is still alive, even if she only has one "seed" left.

"Damn it..." His heart sank for a moment.

But then, his gaze fell on the line about waking up 10 years later, and his emotions slowly subsided.

“…Ten years.” He muttered to himself, “Then I still have ten years…enough time to prepare.”

Since there is no more detailed information, we can only rely on our own future strength.

If I ever get any information about the Despair Witch in the future, I'll immediately take a magic bomb and scatter her ashes.

Next is the second point: Titus Shere has taken advantage of the chaos to unite the remnants of the Cold Moon forces...

This made Louis frown again.

"...Titus."

He recognized the name; it had appeared several times in the intelligence system. Louis remembered that it was the one who poisoned Sif's father; he was a ruthless and cunning character.

The Coldmoon Tribe is one of the most powerful nomadic tribes in the northern wilderness.

Since Sif's father died in battle and the tribe collapsed, her name, which should have been forgotten, has now been unified by Titus due to the chaos caused by the Mother Nest.

What's even more frightening is that his ambitions don't stop there.

If the barbarian tribes of the North can truly be integrated, then the North will no longer have any barriers.

The North has just lost four-fifths of its population, its noble branches have broken apart, its fortresses have crumbled, and its imperial legions have suffered heavy losses... If the barbarian alliance marches south again, even Frostspear City may not be able to withstand a second catastrophe.

“I need to speed up troop preparations. The military and political system, knight training, border fortresses… everything needs to be started ahead of schedule,” Louis muttered to himself.

He looked up at the light screen, shook his head with a wry smile.

"Can't the North just stay peaceful for a year?"

The next message eased his brow slightly: the mage group, which was part of a follow-up investigation by the mage forest, had already set off for the northern border.

Before returning to Crimson Tide Territory, he had a brief conversation with the being known as the "Supreme Mage" in Frostspear City.

The other party is quite interested in me...

At the time, Louis didn't hide anything and expressed his desire to "join the Mage Forest".

The Mage Forest is the most mysterious organization in the world, with countless books, rigorous theories, and even a plethora of magical spells.

Unfortunately, the threshold for entering the forest is extremely high.

Logically speaking, for a "wild mage" like him to join, he would at least have to go to the main mage forest, undergo three rounds of screening tests, a one-year preparatory identity period, and finally complete a soul contract and ritual oath.

But the Supreme Mage simply smiled faintly: "Now that the North is in this state, you still want to go through the proper procedures? A qualification assessment team will accompany you then."

Louis gazed at the light screen, already having made up his mind.

The arrival of the mage contingent would not only help deal with the residual magical energy contamination of the Mother Nest, but for him, it was also an opportunity to take advantage of the situation.

“If the test passes…” he muttered to himself, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, “then I will be a legitimate member of the Mage Forest, and those spells that could only be learned secretly can now be used openly.”

Louis closed the interface, and the blue and white intelligence screen dissipated, turning into a wisp of light and disappearing into the air.

The morning light streamed in from outside, but the house remained quiet, with only the even breathing of the two wives coming from the warm bed.

He tiptoed out of bed, put on his outer robe, walked to the window, and pushed open a corner of it.

A gentle breeze caressed my face, and the morning light over Chichaoling was as clear as if it had been washed.

But he did not linger. He immediately sat down in his usual spot, lowered his eyes, and began his daily practice.

My cultivation had become somewhat lax during the war, and I must pick it up again.

Louis sat cross-legged, and with each breath, his blood and qi vibrated, slowly drawing out the power within his body.

"Tidal Breathing," he murmured.

Breathing is like the tide, rising and falling in a measured way.

With each inhale, it feels like the ocean rushing into your chest; with each exhale, it's like a receding tide, carrying away waste gases and fatigue from your body.

The fighting spirit circulates in the meridians, blood flow accelerates, bones feel slightly hot, and the meridians expand as if forging.

This breathing technique isn't fancy, but it allows him to practice it once a day and steadily improve.

The light of his internal fighting spirit brightened slightly. He opened his eyes, a smile of slight relief mixed with a hint of helplessness.

"After several enhancements, its bloodline is no longer the useless talent it once was, but... it can't be called top-tier."

He knew that this pace was far from enough to become a true extraordinary knight.

"Hopefully, one day the intelligence system will come up with some rare cultivation resources."

He gently exhaled a breath of warm air, then closed his eyes and entered a meditative state once more.

This time, it's magic.

"Primordial Meditation Technique".

Consciousness sinks into the ocean of the mind, and all external noises vanish in an instant.

He saw the rune that was quietly suspended deep in his mind, like a runic heart from some primitive era, beating slowly.

Magic began to flow.

It's not about forcibly absorbing or swallowing, but about resonance, a kind of "synchronized" exchange.

The magic that lingered in the air was gently drawn in, flowing naturally into his spirit like a tide.

The whole process is smooth and peaceful, yet several times faster than traditional meditation techniques.

"Although we are still far from being a true Grand Mage of the Mage Forest... we should be able to catch up in two years."

He could feel his magic had quietly crossed a threshold. When Louis opened his eyes, it was already dawn outside.

He didn't feel the usual morning tranquility, but instead realized that two familiar presences were already guarding him.
One on the left, one on the right, silver-white and sea-blue.

Sif sat with her knees drawn up, leaning against the wall by the door, her gaze fixed on him indifferently.

Her hair was still covered in morning dew, clearly she hadn't disturbed him after waking up, but had been sitting quietly waiting.

Emily had already gotten up and changed her clothes. She was still wearing an elegant light blue dress, and her smooth hair was adorned with a silver feather hair accessory.

She was quietly holding her coat, looking gently in his direction.

"Have you finished your training?" Emily asked softly, her tone carrying a long-lost sense of relief.

"Hmm." Louis exhaled a breath, slowly stood up, stretched his limbs, and there was still a trace of concentration in his eyes after his cultivation.

Sif pouted: "You finally decided to wake up. It's been two hours."

Her tone was sharp and she was quick to criticize, but the moment he stood up, she walked over and gently straightened his slightly wrinkled collar.

The three spent some more time together before leaving the bedroom and heading to the dining room.

On the table was steaming hot smoked fish soup, rye bread, and two-headed bear meat marinated with a specialty of the Red Tide Territory.

The items were not luxurious, but in the North today, they were considered plentiful.

“While you were away,” Emily said as she poured him tea, “the affairs of Red Tide Territory were mainly managed by Sif and me, with Bradley assisting. Nothing major went wrong.”

We have already distributed the refugees we received to various territories according to your pre-arranged plan. While you were away, Sif, Bradley, and I worked in shifts, day and night, coordinating resources.

Sif picked up a piece of meat and snorted, "If I hadn't hung the heads of those minor nobles from the south who dared to hoard supplies on the watchtower, people would probably still be saying, 'We probably won't survive this winter.'"

Louis took a bite of bear meat, his tone suddenly becoming serious: "Is the territory's food supply still sufficient?"

Upon hearing this, Emily frowned slightly and shook her head.

"Without outside help... we'll have to start cutting back on supplies after a month." Sif sighed. "Thanks to you for arranging for us to harvest the early-ripening batch first, otherwise we might be starving by now."

"What did the family say?" Louis turned to look at Emily.

Emily nodded: "I finally received a reply to the letter I sent in your name. The Calvin family promised to allocate a grain convoy to the Red Tide Territory border within a week, enough to maintain the minimum standard of living for the entire winter."

Sif shrugged and added, "In short, don't starve. But don't expect to be full either."

Louis bit the spoon handle and nodded slightly, seemingly deep in thought: "I'm thinking of something..."

After the meal, Louis didn't linger for long. He got up, put on his coat, and walked to his office without saying a word.

“I’m going to my office,” he said softly as he turned around, and Emily nodded.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, a familiar scent of books mingled with dust rushed out.

Under the dim light, the long table piled with topographic maps and statistical files seemed to have been waiting for him for a long time.

The old butler, Bradley, was already standing to one side, looking serious, with his hands behind his back.

"Welcome back, sir."

Louis nodded, saying nothing more, but simply sat down, rolled up his sleeves, and pondered the crisis before him.

He took a deep breath and wrote the first somber phrase on the paper: food crisis.

Originally, the Red Tide Territory's granaries could have comfortably sustained them through a harsh winter.

But now, the influx of refugees from all directions has disrupted this balance.

“We could have fed 10,000 people through the winter, but now we have to feed 50,000,” he said in a low voice.

He did consider refusing.

But faced with those faces yearning to live, he ultimately couldn't bring himself to say, "We can't afford it."

"I'll save as many as I can." That was his decision at the time.

The consequences followed.

"The reduced grain rations can last for 15 days, after which we'll start going hungry..." He frowned.

"Fortunately, the Calvin family has promised to send aid, which, while not abundant, will at least prevent people from starving."

Bradley stood to the side and added softly, "But sir, that little bit of food is only enough to keep people alive. If we want the people to have a decent winter, we'll probably have to think of another way."

Louis paused for a moment on the paper, then began the second line:

"Option 1: Clear land for greenhouse cultivation and launch a red tide geothermal trial planting program."

A glimmer of light appeared in his eyes.

As early as last year, he had experimented with geothermal greenhouse cultivation in Chichao Territory. Although it was only a small-scale experiment, the results were surprisingly good.

With stable soil, suitable conditions, and geothermal temperature regulation, a batch of grain was actually harvested even in winter.

"If that system can be widely adopted, food can be grown even in winter."

Louis paused for a moment, then added: "The underground geothermal network map of the red tide needs to be reviewed. The engineering team and the geothermal engineers will jointly construct the greenhouse frame. Objective: To start construction of the first batch of pilot projects within three days, and recruit migrant laborers to exchange labor for food."

He looked up at Bradley, his eyes hardening.

“These people… cannot simply be ‘incorporated’; they must become part of the Red Tide Territory. Let them work, farm, and eat what they grow themselves; then they will feel at ease.”

Bradley nodded slightly: "Good arrangement, sir. There's plenty of land now, just waiting for people to cultivate it."

“No matter how poor you are, you can’t rely on charity alone,” Louis said softly.

He knew very well that once the refugees developed a dependent mentality of "waiting for food," no amount of warehouses could last through the winter.

Involving them in the reconstruction not only saves labor and food, but also restores their dignity to live.

He wrote: "Return the work point system, allow the use of work hours to pay for food during the winter, and restart the Red Tide Charitable Farm Law. Let them know that they are not taken in out of 'pity,' but because they are willing and capable, they deserve to live in Red Tide."

He picked up his pen and wrote down the third point.

"Option B: Exchange food for Magic Essence Gold Coins through the Calvin Merchant Guild and allocate it urgently."

“Trading gold coins for food is still better than starving to death,” Louis murmured.

Bradley, sitting to the side, nodded slightly in agreement, saying, "That is indeed a solution. After all, our foundation over the years... isn't weak."

"Besides magic marrow, we're also selling two-headed bear meat, specialty smoked fish, cold iron ore, and several kinds of local medicinal herbs. Everything that can be shipped out is for sale," Bradley said in a low voice.

“Yes.” Louis remembered it very clearly.

Although the Red Tide Territory's treasury was not as vast as that of the nobles in the capital, it had already quietly expanded before this turmoil.

The mining rights to magic marrow, high-premium contracts with caravans, and a sales network for various northern specialties...

Moreover, he also controls the Calvin Merchant Guild, which allows Red Tide Territory's products to be sold first, quickly exchanging them for resources such as gold coins.

Without much thought, Louis blurted out to Bradley, "Prioritize three batches: staple foods, long shelf life, and adapted to the northern climate."

Bradley nodded: "I'll take care of it."

When Louis wrote the fourth line, his pen paused for a moment on the paper.

"Option C: Use intelligence systems to search for abandoned granaries and hidden villages where grain is stored."

He did not say this aloud.

In fact, the intelligence system has provided some similar supplies and resources intermittently.

Those forgotten granaries, old houses secluded on the edge of the mountains, backup caves nestled in rock crevices, and secret cellars hidden by nobles...

This is also a large amount of food and supplies. I will send knights to bring back these forgotten supplies, which can help many people survive.

(End of this chapter)