Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 238 Post-War Conference (Part 2)

The conference room was deathly silent.

The heavy double doors slowly closed, shutting out the screams and dragging sounds.

Those nobles whose names had just been called out and whose crimes were proven conclusive have been taken away one by one.

The remaining two-thirds were gripped by an invisible hand, their throats held so tightly they could barely breathe.

They sat stiffly, and even changing their posture seemed abrupt.

There was no more whispering, and no one dared to look directly at the young, cold figure in the seat of power.

Jon and Veris remained calm, the only two who still looked composed.

Even so, he never smiled once.

What Louis just demonstrated was not only power, but also an unquestionable dominance.

Time seemed to stand still in the room.

Suddenly, a slight scraping sound from the chair legs broke the silence.

Almost simultaneously, everyone looked up, their hearts tightening.

He stood up.

The boy wasn't tall, but the sense of pressure emanating from his composure made the air seem a little thinner.

He walked around the conference table, his steps unhurried, each one seemingly touching the hearts of everyone present.

His gaze swept over everyone, from the elderly viscount to the young and vigorous pioneer baron, and none of them could meet his eyes.

He finally stopped behind Viscount Roland.

The old man was already frozen, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat that soaked through his collar.

“Don’t be afraid.” Louis’s tone was gentle, like a kind junior comforting a shaken elder. “They were dragged down because they did something wrong.”

He paused, then leaned closer: "Did you do something wrong?"

Roland jolted, nearly jumping out of his chair, and frantically shook his head, slamming it down: "No, no! I... I was just dragged there to listen... I didn't do anything..."

“Hmm.” Louis patted his shoulder gently, as if comforting a child. “That’s good.”

Roland seemed to have been pardoned, and almost collapsed on the spot.

Louis straightened up and continued forward.

In the silence, the figure of the young lord was like a long sword hanging over the heads of all the old nobles.

No one dared to make any rash moves.

Louis slowly returned to his seat.

He didn't sit down immediately, but stood behind the long table, looking down at the entire room.

Those nobles who had been itching to act just moments before now all bowed their heads and remained silent, as if they had returned to their school days, waiting to be disciplined.

The air remained oppressive, and the flames in the fireplace hissed softly, as if they too knew to keep their noise down.

Are you sure you can get back to your territory now?

Louis spoke, his tone low, yet his voice carried clearly to everyone's ears.

He showed no anger or aggression; instead, he was like a patient and persuasive godfather, his tone gentle to the point of being almost tender.

But that's precisely why it's so terrifying.

“Your territory remains yours,” he continued, “but if you want to survive in the Red Tide, you must—respect the rules of the Red Tide.”

No one spoke.

He slowly looked around, his gaze sweeping across the faces of every nobleman, but none dared to meet his eyes.

Viscount Roland lowered his head, his hands gripping the armrests tightly. Harris's seat was empty, and even the cushion seemed to still retain a chill. Sirius's empty chair lay overturned on the ground, like a tombstone.

“The disaster is over,” Louis paused, his eyes darkening, “but the North is still a wasteland. The swarms have retreated, but winter is coming.”

He held up his fingers and counted them one by one: "A large number of refugees are stranded here. People have no houses and are still sleeping in geothermal sheds."

Food is scarce, and warehouses are calculating their final reserves daily. Medical resources are insufficient, and an epidemic could break out in the refugee camp at any moment.

The mountain roads are blocked by snow, and the roads are cut off. Will you be able to return? Who will build bridges for you? Who will clear the snow for you? Villages and towns are destroyed, and monsters roam freely. Do you have any knights?

No one answered.

The nobles sitting below the long table were all ashen-faced, only daring to respond in hushed tones, none of them daring to suggest leaving.

Even those who were just thinking about whether they should "voluntarily withdraw from the Red Tide and rebuild their businesses" no longer dared to utter a single word about it.

Because they knew very well that the road didn't exist.

The old house behind them had long since been swallowed by a sea of ​​insects, and the boundary markers of the fiefdom had turned into piles of bones.

Their knights perished in the bloody battle of the Brood, leaving only their dusty sigil with nowhere to hang.

The lord before them, only twenty years old, was all they could rely on now.

Silence spread through the hall, like a thick fog, making it hard to breathe.

Louis didn't continue speaking, as if waiting for them to speak up, to express gratitude, remorse, or a reasonable statement.

but no.

He finally smiled, the corners of his mouth turned up, but there was no warmth in his smile.

“You…” His voice was low, as if he were talking to himself, or as if he were pronouncing a sentence, “I dragged you out of the insect fog, brought you out of the sea of ​​fire, and gave you food, medicine, and beds. I built shelters for you, sent people to patrol and maintain security, repaired roads and bridges, and distributed coal for warmth.”

"I work so hard, I don't dare to get a full night's sleep, I approve documents, transfer people, and allocate grain every day... but what are you doing?"

He raised his hand and waved it lightly, saying, "They gathered a crowd to plot, contacted their old subordinates, and even incited a riot among the displaced people, trying to stab me in the back."

He paused, his cold gaze sweeping over the pale-faced nobles seated below: "Is this your 'gratitude'?"

The air froze again. Yorn stopped joking, and Willis slowly lowered his head, a cold glint in his eyes. They knew Louis was truly enraged.

"Lord Louis, it's a misunderstanding... a misunderstanding!" a minor nobleman said in a trembling voice, his hands gripping the edge of the chair tightly. "I have never... never dared to be disrespectful!"

“Yes, how could we!” another person shouted. “We…we were just deceived and misled…”

"Thanks to your wisdom, sir, for seeing through the treacherous plot so early!"

"If it weren't for the protection of the red tide, we would have...we would have died in the insect swarm long ago..."

"My whole family owes our lives to you, sir..."

…………

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the hall seemed to shift, and the nobles who had just looked as if they had lost their parents suddenly changed their tune.

At this moment, they all stood up, bowed, and lowered their heads, their voices rising and falling.

The words were all about "gratitude," "loyalty," "repentance," and "devotion."

One of the older nobles suddenly burst into tears, choking out, "My...my two grandsons, it was you who saved them, it was you who saved them, sir! How could we dare to forget your kindness!"

Viscount Roland finally caught his breath, stood up, bowed deeply, and said in a trembling voice, "My lord, I was confused... It was all a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding... You are wise and mighty, the hope of the North, who dares to disobey..."

Louis watched them silently, without saying a word.

He neither stopped them nor nodded in approval, but simply let them continue to "pledge their loyalty" and "express their remorse" in front of him.

He only slowly returned to his seat after more than half of the attendees had bowed and kowtowed.

Then Louis's tone changed, finally becoming more "tolerant".

"But I will not treat those who perform well unfairly."

"The land in Xuefeng is large enough. If you help me stabilize public sentiment and maintain order, I will naturally let go. Chichao will establish a reconstruction system."

The order of post-war reconstruction and the allocation of support will be determined by contribution, order, public opinion, and level of cooperation. Those who do more will receive more, while those who misbehave... well, don't blame me for settling accounts.

"Those who perform well will be given priority in receiving land after winter, returning to their family's old territory, and being reinstated to the military."

As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room instantly relaxed.

The nobles, like prisoners suddenly pardoned, all wore expressions of relief.

"I obey the lord's command!"

"I will certainly do my duty faithfully!"

They all stood up, bowed, and said yes, their tone eager and their posture respectful.

With a trembling emotion, he declared his willingness to fight for the Red Tide, as if he had never been involved in any of the previous conspiracies.

Viscount Roland quickly bowed and added, his voice trembling, "It's all a misunderstanding... Your Lordship is wise!"

Louis ignored him, smiling slightly as if he had only heard the wind.

"Alright." He rested his hands on the edge of the conference table and said calmly, "Since we've come this far, let's talk about the winter."

The nobles sat up straight and listened attentively to the instructions.

"Although food supplies are tight in the Red Tide region, I have sent people to the southern counties to purchase dry food and charcoal."

Local authorities must recalculate the number of migrants and designate specific resettlement sites, and are prohibited from withholding, selling, or falsely reporting them.

Three more medical clinics will be set up, with a focus on preventing and controlling respiratory infectious diseases during the winter.

Repairing temporary access roads, distributing charcoal, clearing snow... those of you in your leadership with able-bodied men, please do these tasks.

He spoke concisely and forcefully, without any unnecessary words, as if listing items one by one for each nobleman.

“Of course.” He said, his tone softening slightly. “I won’t use your things for nothing.”

"Whoever contributes manpower and effort will be given priority in the budget allocation after the New Year, with preferential treatment allocated for coal distribution, grain distribution, and reconstruction funds."

One of the nobles responded quietly, "We are willing to contribute our modest efforts."

Others echoed, "The red tide is in trouble, and we should all share the burden."

"We will definitely contribute money and effort, and we won't hold anyone back."

Some even went so far as to volunteer: "If you trust me, I can organize laborers to assist with the transportation!"

Louis listened to this without expression, simply nodding.

Then Bradley leaned down and whispered a few words in his ear.

He listened intently, nodded almost imperceptibly, and then stood up.

“I have some things to attend to, so I’ll head out first,” he said, patting the table. “Once you’re finished discussing, you can give Bradley the list of team members to divide the tasks.”

But remember, if you want to survive, cooperate with me. If you want to thrive, let your results speak for themselves.

After saying this, he said no more and turned to leave with his entourage.

The nobles immediately stood up in unison, bowed their heads, and said, "Respectfully seeing off our Lord!"

"You've worked hard, my lord!"

May the Red Tide endure forever, and may the reconstruction of Xuefeng Mountain be hopeful!

Louis did not turn around, but simply waved his hand and slowly left the council chamber amidst the surrounding gazes of the crowd.

Only after his figure disappeared behind the door did the nobles in the hall breathe a sigh of relief.

Some people wiped sweat from their foreheads, some sat back in their seats without saying a word, while others immediately turned to Bradley and began discussing "how to arrange the group," "I'm willing to repair the West Road," and "We have dozens of people in our family that we can send out."

Throughout the meeting, from purging, warning, and deterring, to clear rewards and punishments and enticing promises, Louis left no room for complacency.

And these former nobles, now refugees, finally understood one thing:

If they want to survive in this northern land, they have no choice but to obey Louis.

(End of this chapter)