Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 240 Duke Calvin's Scheme
The night was deep, a gentle breeze tapped against the window, but only the candlelight shone dimly in the study.

Duke Calvin sat alone in a high-backed chair, his fingertips flipping through a thick stack of urgent war reports from the Privy Council in the capital.

The edges of the parchment still bear the burn marks characteristic of rapid delivery, indicating the urgency of its arrival.

His gaze swept calmly over the post-war summary, but his finger paused slightly when he saw one piece of intelligence.

"Gaius Calvin was severely injured in the battle of the End Brood, his fighting spirit was depleted, his nervous system collapsed, and he fell into a long-term coma... He is currently in a vegetative state and cannot wake up."

For a long time, only the wall clock ticked.

Duke Calvin lowered his head, his long fingers gently tracing the words "deep coma" and "suspension of consciousness"...

His eyebrows twitched slightly, but he showed no sign of losing his composure.

He wasn't an old man who would weep in his study; he was one of the Eight Pillars of the Empire and the patriarch of the Calvin family.

But her fingertips had unconsciously tightened, folding a clear crease along the edge of the letter.

He closed his eyes and whispered, "...Gaius."

His eldest son, Gaius, was the pillar of the family who was sent to the capital as a hostage from a young age and steadily made progress amidst the storms of war.

Gentle, steady, and neither arrogant nor impatient.

Moreover, he was a top-tier knight, the vice-commander of the Imperial Dragonblood Legion.

He had originally thought this man would be the most reliable heir to the Calvin family.

But now he has fallen in the North.

The lamplight flickered gently, as if moved by the wind.

He remained silent for a long time, then suddenly murmured to himself, "He's still alive... he might wake up... perhaps it's only temporary..."

The voice was very soft, carrying a barely maintained calm.

He knew, of course, that such words were just an excuse for himself.

Duke Calvin sighed, slowly leaning back in his high-backed chair, his thumb tracing the edge of the sealed intelligence document, his thoughts swirling.

"A family's top combat force is gone just like that."

A fleeting shadow crossed his eyes, but it quickly returned to its cold indifference. It wasn't that he lacked emotion, but rather that he never allowed emotions to dictate his judgment.

Gaius is too straightforward...

If he didn't retain some of his own ideas, perhaps he wouldn't be suitable to be the head of the Calvin family.

This is related to the fact that he was sent to the capital as a hostage at a young age. If I had known that he would become a top knight, I would have kept him by my side and trained him personally.

But thinking about those things now is useless.

The Duke slowly exhaled, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and continued to turn to the next page of the secret letter.

"Viscount Louis Calvin of Red Tide Territory organized local soldiers and civilians to defend the Snow Peak defense line; led a team to break through the insect swarm blockade and provide support to Frostspear City."
"He detonated the outer defenses of the Mother Nest at the end of the battle, assisting in the destruction of the Mother Nest's core. His meritorious service has been reported to the capital by Duke Edmund."

He was stunned.

At first, I even thought that one of the scribes had made a mistake with the name.

"Louis?"

That... Eighth Prince?
He didn't even remember the child's name until last year, and never intended to.

Until last year, the child actually made progress step by step.

He established a foothold in the North, taking in refugees, building strongholds, and even winning the governor's trust.

To what extent did the trust reach? — Edmund married his daughter to him.

That was the first time he truly took that "ignored eighth child" seriously.

Even so, he never had high expectations for it.

Being able to gradually expand the family's influence in the North is considered a great achievement.

As for a large-scale battle that could determine the course of the war at the "Mother Nest of the End"? He hadn't even considered it, but—

"Detonated the outer defenses of the Mother Nest at the end of the battle, assisting in the destruction of the Mother Nest's core... Outstanding achievements, one of the greatest contributors to this battle."

Duke Calvin's brow furrowed slowly: "How did he do that? The knights under his command shouldn't have been capable of participating in an annihilation operation of this scale."

Louis was no longer the neglected child he once was, someone who could be casually thrown to the North to die.

He is one of the largest lords still existing in the North, a pillar of the Northern defenses, and a "meritorious official" nominated in the Imperial war reports.

The Duke of Calvin slowly leaned back in his high-backed chair and remained silent for a long time.

The candlelight flickered in his eyes, revealing no emotion.

My mind was already racing.

He must secure the best possible reward for Louis.

This is an ironclad rule of ancient noble families—if you are a good-for-nothing, they can discard you at any time.

But if you demonstrate value and can bring honor and benefits to the family, they will spare no effort to support you, pave the way for you, plan for you, and offer you all their resources.

That's how cruel it is, and that's how reality is.

This opportunity is also a high-stakes gamble.

The Northern Empire is in the early stages of reconstruction. The major Northern families are riddled with problems, dozens of noble families have died out, the old power has collapsed, and a new order has not yet been established.

And Duke Calvin happened to have a son there, who was a hero who had made great contributions in the most crucial battle.

However, this great contributor was the kind of person the emperor disliked the most:
Born into one of the eight great families, he had military achievements, popular support, and land, and was married to the daughter of the Duke of Edmund.

It's fair to say that Louis embodied every type of label that emperors disliked.

Emperor Ernst August, a man as cold as iron, never believed in nobility, much less in birth.

He personally stripped dozens of hereditary vassal titles in order to break the old aristocracy's monopoly on power.

He was extremely wary of rewarding a peasant officer handsomely, yet he was extremely wary of scions of noble families who had distinguished themselves in battle.

He hated any descendant of a "deeply rooted" family who stood outside the imperial power and became independent.

Duke Calvin tapped the armrest of his chair slowly, his expression grim.

If I were to directly request an award for Louis through a memorial to the throne, it would only invite suspicion.

Not only will they not benefit from it, but it will also make that child a target.

He had to find a different way to make the entire empire believe that it wasn't the Calvin family that supported Louis, but rather that Louis had emerged from the North.

The goal is to make everyone, including the emperor, see a local hero who climbed his way up through hardship and earned his place through battle.

A meritorious official who would not shake the foundation of the empire, and a survivor representative who was just able to stabilize the post-war frontier.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and the Duke's eyes gradually brightened.

He slowly sat up straight, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, as if striking the rhythm of an impending power struggle.

If he could organize a whole set of political rhetoric for "pleading for the North" and "speaking out for the survivors."

Even a carefully crafted facade is enough to spur the Empire's aid process to the North.

As long as the direction is right, public opinion and court discussions will naturally support him. In contrast, personally "requesting" the emperor's help would only make the emperor wary of powerful families interfering with military achievements.
Ideally, it would be Lord Edmund, Governor of the North, to step forward and have other families petition for his services. This would both comply with imperial law and avoid suspicion.

His eyes flashed, and he had an idea in mind: it would be best to let the Governor of the North take charge of the rewards and fiefs himself.

Despite His Majesty’s iron-fisted rule in recent years, which has severely reduced the power of the eight great families and made him wary of all the old nobles.

But there was one exception—Duke Edmund of the North.

He was from one of the eight great families, but his position was as secure as a rock.

He guarded the northern border for more than forty years, and his family declined as a result, with even his only son dying on the battlefield for the empire.

He possessed military power, prestige, and imperial favor—all three combined.

He is arguably the most "trusted" veteran in the empire today.

If the Duke of Edmund were to spearhead a post-disaster reconstruction proposal, he could secure resources and political immunity for survivors throughout the North.

The emperor would not only not veto it, but might even "agre in a high-minded manner".

This is tantamount to pushing the entire stake onto the Duke of Edmund's table.

In this grand scheme of "post-disaster recovery," Louis will at least get a large, juiciest, and most essential piece of the pie.

Because he was both the Duke of Edmund's son-in-law and one of the few local lords who actually distinguished himself in the war and maintained the operation of his territory after the war.

His Red Tide Territory is currently the most intact, well-organized, and stable political core in the entire Northern Territory, with its granaries intact and the people's hearts at peace.

It was far superior to other territories that were half-destroyed and garrisons that were in ruins.

All of this means that, regardless of how the Empire deals with the North, Louis must be one of the entities to be considered.

Duke Calvin's eyes remained calm, but his mind was racing, already planning the details of the entire scheme.

First and foremost, the Calvin family must not be involved.

If he rashly intervenes to secure honors and fiefs for Louis, it will only arouse the suspicion of the Emperor and the Inspectorate.

The cold and aloof emperor was most wary of noble offspring rising again by leveraging their family's power.

He couldn't move, but Edmund could.

If the Duke of Edmund were to request the establishment of a post-disaster relief agency and the reward of those who had rendered meritorious service, it would not only be reasonable, but the emperor would also be happy to "go with the flow".

"Those who stand opposite His Majesty and plead for help are more likely to be attacked with swords, while those who stand at His Majesty's feet and weep are more likely to be rewarded."

Calvin sneered inwardly, determined to bring the Edmund family to the forefront.

The second step was to unite the nobles and weave a net to petition for their lives.

They secretly selected several old families with whom they had stable relationships and who could speak up in the Imperial Capital Council, intending to offer some benefits such as mining rights, procurement rights, supplies, and gold coins in exchange for their endorsement.

Let them support the Empire in establishing the 'Northern Disaster Rewards Proposal'.

It's not for any one person, but for all the survivors and all the heroes.

The main point of this proposal will be:
They requested the Emperor and the Imperial Diet to grant the North post-war recovery resources and the power of bestowal, and to establish a temporary autonomous body to stabilize the political situation.

The third part promotes the establishment of the "Northern Post-Disaster Consultative Autonomous Corps".

This is the most crucial step.

The establishment of this autonomous body, ostensibly to assist the empire in "handling disaster areas, resettling people, and reorganizing the remnants of the army," was in reality a legitimate platform for Louis to rule.

The group will be nominally led by the Duke of Edmund, and Louis will naturally be included in the standing committee as the "representative of the Red Tide Territory".

The titles are all empty; only the Red Tide Territory, with its manpower, food, population, security, and knightly organization, truly possesses "governance capabilities."

The empire only needs to "decentralize autonomous governance" without having to send out a single soldier; who would object?

This decentralization itself implies the tacit authorization of the allocation of legitimate power and resources.

Throughout the entire event, the Duke of Calvin remained completely out of the loop; he did not sign his name, make any appearances, or speak.

He only needs to invest some wealth and resources to bring these proposals to the surface naturally, allowing others to voice their opinions and push them forward.

His influence within the imperial aristocracy will subtly drive these gears to mesh precisely.

What the emperor saw was a massive post-disaster cooperative movement.

Rather than the rise of the Calvin family's new elite in the North.

Having settled his thoughts, Duke Calvin slowly rose, walked to his desk, and pulled out several sheets of encrypted parchment.

He picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote with the decisive and fluid strokes of a knife, each stroke embodying a calm weighing of options and a calculation of family interests.

The first letter was written to his sister, Calvin Eleanor, who was also the family's representative in the capital.

He instructed her on how to mediate in the core council, highlighting Louis's military achievements while concealing any overly conspicuous brilliance.

The second letter was addressed to the Duke of Edmund, his in-law.

He spoke sincerely, expressing his willingness to fully support the rebuilding of the North and telling him to feel free to make any requests.

The following letters were written to several noble officials in the capital who had a close relationship with him.

Instead of directly requesting support for Louis, he used the pretexts of "prosperity in the North," "meritorious service in providing relief," and "the reconstruction of a new imperial order" to persuade them to support Duke Edmund.

He blew the ink dry, then placed each letter into a black letterbox bearing the family's secret seal, and sealed it with bronze seals of different ranks.

A moment later, a butler quietly appeared and took the letter away.

Then he casually flipped back to the last page of the report, initially thinking it was just an unimportant postwar roster, but at the very bottom he saw a line of inconspicuous small print:
"...Pal Calvin went missing in the Endbringer war zone and has been confirmed dead."

His fingers paused, and his gaze sharpened slightly.

“Par?” he murmured the name, as if he were pulling out a dusty old card from some distant and obscure corner.

After a moment of silence, his brows did not furrow and his eyes showed no sadness; he simply quickly searched through the image of that person in his mind.

"Ah...it's him."

“It’s the one I sent to the second batch of pioneers last year. Her mother is… Estella? No, or Marlene?” He paused, but couldn’t remember.

"Fine, since I can't remember, it means... it wasn't important to begin with."

He gently placed the letter down, without even applying any pressure with his fingertips, as if it were a piece of waste paper.

Pal.

Another person who didn't survive the North.

"So what if he's dead?" he said calmly, as if he were merely confirming the settlement of an account.

He has plenty of sons.

Those who have no value will eventually be eliminated in the gears of power, while those who survive will naturally rise to the top.

This is the truth about the Calvin family system.

Not everyone deserves the honor of having a surname; for example, the surname Calvin can be just a one-off, disposable attempt.

He sat up straight again and picked up the new document.

The embers of the letter were buried at the bottom, completely obliterated.

(End of this chapter)