Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 280 Weir's Spring Festival
Weil stood in front of the bronze mirror, unusually adjusting his collar.

Today, instead of wearing his usual silver-white knight armor, he changed into one of the few sets of casual clothes he owned.

He wore grey-blue trousers, black leather boots with silver buckles, and a dark cape.

He looked both energetic and a bit... in his mother's words, "dressed like a Southern aristocrat."

At the age of fifteen, he was already the youngest high-ranking elite knight in the Crimson Tide Territory, and for the past three years he had served as Louis's personal bodyguard.

This identity gave him considerable influence in various legions, but last night he asked his superior for a day off for the first time.

He stammered and spoke vaguely, while Louis simply gave him an ambiguous smile and then approved it outright.

His mother was carrying a basket at the door, putting on her cloak while instructing him, "I'm going to the fish farm to help kill fish today. I won't be back for lunch, so you'll have to take care of yourself."

Will nodded vigorously: "I understand, I understand!"

Just as I stepped out the door, I heard her familiar nagging behind me again: "You're fifteen years old, why are you still so impetuous!"

Weil pretended not to hear, quickened his pace, and walked briskly towards the market outside the artisan district.

Today is the Lunar New Year, the most lively festival in the red tide region during spring, and one of the few times of the year when the whole nation celebrates.

Even though it's morning, the place is bustling with activity. Red cloths and ribbons adorn the wooden pillars and stalls, the air is filled with the aroma of stewed beef ribs, and children chase after windmills. Everywhere is filled with the lively atmosphere of a bustling community.

Meanwhile, in the bustling market outside the industrial zone, Lilia was already waiting for him at a stall.

She is a year older than Will and joined the same batch of apprentice knights as him. Now she is a mid-level official knight.

Although he doesn't have the amazing talent of Will, he is still one of the top geniuses among the younger generation in the Crimson Tide Territory.

Unlike her imposing presence on the training field, today she wore only a clean light gray dress with a neat belt around her waist, her hair tied in a half-ponytail, her eyes and brows looking refreshed, making her even more radiant.

Will stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling a little awkward, and stammered, "Good...good morning."

Lilia looked at him and smiled gently: "Good morning."

That smile seemed to dispel the last trace of chill in the spring air.

This year's Spring Festival is different. Due to the large population of Chichao Territory, various regions have their own responsibilities, and the main city no longer organizes festivals in a unified manner.

They simply issued basic rules and regulations, and then delegated the specific planning to various communities, industry associations, and village groups to organize the celebrations spontaneously. This not only relieved the logistical burden but also showcased the creativity of the people.

The area where Will and Lilia were located happened to be the site of a festival organized by the Craftsmen's Guild of the Industrial Zone.

Therefore, the festival stalls here seem particularly hardcore.

The stalls were all handcrafted by carpenters and blacksmiths, so sturdy they could serve as temporary fortresses. A row of ovens lined the roadside, and several shirtless, burly men were sweating profusely as they turned over ribs and whole fish on the wire mesh. The firelight and smoke intertwined to create a vibrant festive atmosphere.

Some people even made their own catapult-shaped pitch-pot games, which the children enjoyed immensely.

Every detail reveals the craftsman's ingenuity and ruggedness.

While eating juicy grilled beef skewers, Will followed Lilia through the bustling Artisan Street.

The air was filled with the smells of sawdust, grease, hot iron, and charcoal. The stoves on both sides of the street roared and hammers clattered, like a never-ending metal symphony.

Rows of stalls were filled with gleaming knife blanks, shiny iron ingots, uniquely shaped tools, and shimmering crystals, giving the entire neighborhood a romantic yet practical feel.

Just as they were enjoying their stroll, a commotion suddenly broke out ahead, and a large group of people formed a big circle, bursting out cheers.

"What happened?" Will asked a middle-aged man holding an iron pot next to him while chewing.

"You don't know? This is a sword-forging competition! You only have three hours to forge a sword on the spot, to see who can forge the fastest and best sword!" the man added mysteriously. "I heard it was Lord Louis's idea himself."

Will raised an eyebrow, finding it amusing; after all, anything Lord Louis came up with was bound to be good.

The host on stage was Mike, the president of the Red Tide Craftsmen Association. His voice was loud and clear as he directed and explained, "Three teams, fair competition, uniform materials, and skill above all else!"

Sparks flew across the stage, indicating that the match had been going on for quite some time.

The first group consists of three brothers' workshops with a clear division of labor, specializing in "segmented steel stacking".

They were like a precisely operating assembly machine, turning pig iron into sword blanks in just a few tens of minutes.

The second group consists of an elderly silver-haired craftsman and his grand-apprentice, specializing in the ancient technique of "blade tempering".

Their movements were steady and elegant, like playing an ancient musical piece. The charcoal fire reflected in their focused eyes, inspiring respect.

The third group is the most eye-catching: the young blacksmith Sera and her mother, one old and one young, one calm and one fiery.

The swords they struck had a unique shape, with uneven edges and sharp edges, drawing gasps of surprise.

Will and Lilia stood on the outer edge of the crowd, watching with great interest.

“This kind of competition…” Lilia chuckled softly, “is even more intense than our knight camp’s riding competitions.”

Will nodded as he chewed on his kebab, his eyes never leaving the forge, his ears listening intently to Mike's professional explanation, finding the intricacies of the craftsman's work quite fascinating.

As the forging entered its final stage, Mike glanced around the crowd, his eyes suddenly lighting up as he shouted:

"Oh?! Isn't that Lord Louis's personal bodyguard, Knight Will? Why isn't he with Lord Louis today? Why don't you come up and be the sword tester?"

Everyone immediately looked in the direction of the sound, and countless curious eyes were focused on Will's face. His face instantly turned red, and he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

Lilia covered her mouth and chuckled, giving him a push as she said, "Go quickly!"

"I...I..." Wel stammered a few words of refusal, but faced with the laughter around him and Lilia's encouraging gaze, he finally gritted his teeth and walked onto the stage.

"I... I'll just try it once."

So, under the watchful eyes of everyone, he ran to the three newly forged swords, and the test subject was a wild boar carcass that had been made into a thick-skinned target.

The swords from the Three Brothers Workshop are thick and sturdy, but they become slightly dull after a single strike.

The old craftsman and his grand-apprentice wielded their longswords with swift and decisive strokes, tearing through skin and flesh with unparalleled sharpness.

When it was the turn of the young blacksmith Sera's sword, the audience was full of anticipation. But when she had only cut halfway, the sword suddenly broke with a "crack", and hot air was coming out of the broken edge. Sera was stunned on the spot, and her eyes instantly turned red.

The room fell silent for a moment, and the atmosphere became slightly awkward.

Will stared at the broken sword, momentarily frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

Lilia, sitting in the audience, couldn't stop laughing. She laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight, and she kept covering her mouth with her hand.

Finally, Chairman Mike announced the results of the competition: "The master craftsman and his apprentice's ancient method of blade forging has won first place! They have been awarded the Craftsmen's Guild Sun Gear Badge!"

The audience erupted in enthusiastic applause, and even Sera mustered her spirits to pay tribute to the old craftsman.

As the match came to an end, Weil gently jumped off the stage, his ears still burning.

He walked back to Lilia's side, who winked at him and chuckled, "You did a pretty cool job chopping it down."

The two exchanged a smile, turned and left the bustling artisan street, heading towards the celebration square not far away.

On the west side of the square, as the drums and gongs sounded, the crowd cheered and colorful ribbons fluttered in the air. That area was bustling with activity, surrounded by circles of people, with children screaming excitedly and adults laughing heartily.

This is one of the most popular forms of entertainment during the Spring Festival: a traditional obstacle course competition.

The course consists of mud pit jumps, roller bridges, bouncy vine walls, and zip-lining crossings, which are quite challenging and require both physical strength and skill.

Most of the participants were ordinary children and young people from Red Tide City. A few young craftsmen also took off their aprons and gave it a try. The atmosphere was very lively, with constant laughter.

A chubby little boy lost his balance as soon as he jumped onto the first bollard and immediately fell into a mud pit with a "plop," getting mud all over his face and head, which made the onlookers burst into laughter.

He stubbornly got up, jumped again, fell again, gritted his teeth and made it to the end, winning a round of applause.

Lilia clapped her hands and laughed so hard she almost fell over, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

Will, who was standing next to him, couldn't help but chuckle, a flicker of eager anticipation appearing in his eyes.

“This kind of competition…is really interesting,” he said softly.

At this moment, the host stood on the high platform, holding a megaphone and jokingly said, "Hey, this level isn't something just anyone can pass. Which knight would like to give it a try? Why don't you let us commoners see your light-footed skills?"

A burst of laughter erupted from the audience.

The host was just joking. As everyone knows, this is a festival program prepared for ordinary people, and knights are not encouraged to participate according to the rules.

This level of difficulty is a piece of cake for knights, and they also need to maintain the independence of the commoners' festival.

But Wel was so engrossed in watching that he couldn't resist.

He raised his hand high, his face flushed, and asked, "Can I try... without going on the podium?"

The host was taken aback, seemingly not expecting a knight to actually respond. When he saw the boy's face, his expression turned strange.

Isn't that the high-ranking knight beside Louis?
"This, this isn't... uh, never mind!" The host laughed and waved. "Let's register your name, this is an exception! Everyone, what do you say, are you welcome or not?!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, "Welcome!" "Let the knight roll in the mud too!"

Will took off his coat, tightened the cuffs, and stood on the starting line. With each breath, his heroic spirit from the training field was undeniable.

As the drumbeats faded, he leaped out, jumping over the obstacles quickly, accurately, and steadily. He strode across the roller bridge, pushed off the vine wall, and used the momentum to flip over... The whole process was almost seamless and executed in one go.

In just over ten seconds, the boy landed as swiftly as a swallow, kicking up dust but barely getting a speck of mud on him.

The crowd cheered, with children clapping and cheering, and even the stall owners whistling.

Lilia was so amused that she couldn't help but laugh out loud, almost laughing until tears streamed down her face.

As she was smiling, she suddenly heard a little girl beside her quietly tug at her sleeve and look up to ask:

"Sister, is that your brother?"

Lilia was taken aback, her cheeks instantly turning as red as apples. She stammered for two seconds before finally shaking her head gently and answering in a low voice, "...Not my brother."

Will landed gracefully by the side of the track, splashing up a few mud splatters, and walked toward Lilia with a look of lingering enjoyment.

She remained standing outside the crowd, her smile unfurled, but her cheeks flushed with an undeniable rosy hue.

"Why is your face so red?" Will leaned closer, tilted his head, and asked in a low voice.

Lilia turned her head away: "...Your face is red too."

The boy was speechless for a moment, and subconsciously touched his face. It was indeed very hot, probably because he had been too excited.

“It’s nothing, let’s go.” Lilia broke the brief awkwardness and reminded him, “Lord Louis’s banquet is about to begin, we shouldn’t be late.”

The two left the bustling artisan street side by side and headed towards the castle.

As night fell, the Red Tide Main Square was already ablaze with excitement.

As the festival reached its climax, the banquet for ordinary people was brightly lit.

Hundreds of round tables are neatly arranged according to the village groups and streets, with a bonfire in the center of each table, reflecting the faces of people sitting around chatting happily.

The sizzling of roasting meat, the steaming of stews, and the aroma of freshly baked flatbread mingled with laughter, the smell of alcohol, and singing, rising into the night.

Outside Red Tide Castle, another grand feast is quietly unfolding.

Seated here are the backbone of all sectors of the Red Tide: legion commanders, outstanding craftsmen, those who have made contributions to reform, and knights, among others.

Identity and status are temporarily dismantled and replaced by the order of "contribution".

There was no distinction between host and guest at the banquet; people freely exchanged ideas and raised their glasses in conversation, which perfectly embodies the spirit of "glory belongs to the builders" advocated by the Red Tide.

Weil had changed back into his formal attire and calmly entered the banquet with the knights.

He was exceptionally young among the crowd, yet no one questioned his qualifications.

The young man sat down steadily, and under Louis's influence, his demeanor already showed the bearing of a great general.

On another seat not far away, Lilia also sat gracefully, having changed into a formal dress, her gaze inadvertently falling on Wel.

Their eyes met, and she gently raised her glass, smiling tenderly.

Welsh paused for a moment, then returned the toast, the glint in his glass shimmering as if a spring breeze were blowing.

At the end of the terrace, in the seat of honor, Louis sat in the main seat, his expression as usual.

He didn't say much, only rose to raise his glass and give a brief speech after everyone was seated:
"Another winter has passed. It is your hard work, unity, and dedication that have brought us this peace and tranquility. Spring is here, so please continue your efforts this year. The glory of the red tide belongs to everyone."

Everyone raised their glasses in unison, and cheers erupted.

Emily and Sif, sitting nearby, also raised their glasses in celebration, their bright faces illuminated by the lamplight.

At that moment, Louis's gaze fell on a spot in the arena.

He watched as Will and Lilia held hands and whispered to each other.

The boy's expression was calm, and the girl's eyes were smiling; it was a youthful smile, a peaceful expression.

A slight smile appeared on his lips, but it vanished in an instant.

Emily could see that his smile concealed a hidden heaviness.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a low voice.

Louis held his wine glass and nodded almost imperceptibly, his voice like a whisper in the cold night: "...The barbarians have gone south."

The banquet was as lively as ever, with a bonfire burning brightly and laughter filling the air.

But beneath this vibrant spring night, a new storm is brewing.

(End of this chapter)