Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 295 Inheritance
"Of course, next up is the granddaughter of the old Marquis of Bree and the heir to West Ridge Castle, who said they brought cheese and homemade red wine," the servant whispered a reminder.

“Keep the cheese for the banquet, and let them take the red wine back with them.” Louis rubbed his temples wearily, his tone flat. “How many more groups are there?”

"Six groups left today... Fourteen groups tomorrow."

"Fourteen?" He raised an eyebrow. "You've almost eaten me out of house and home, haven't you?"

The servant struggled to suppress a smile: "Everyone thinks you are the most promising lord in the North and wanted to come and say hello."

In fact, ever since the news that the Earl intended to pass the position to Louis at the reconstruction meeting was leaked, Louis's mansion in Frostspear City suddenly became lively.

Nobles of various surnames swarmed around like cats that had smelled fish.

Some people brought in old sheepskin maps, claiming they were strategic secrets they were willing to share with the Red Tide.

Some people carried two jars of wine, the authenticity of which was unknown but the wine was very strong, and grinned, saying they wanted to welcome the greatest hero of the North.

Some people even brought their daughters, whose cheeks were flushed, to pay their respects.

Of course, they didn't forget to make sure their words were perfectly watertight.

"We've come here because we've heard so much about him, to see this young hero who saved the North on the battlefield."

"We hope that Beiwan and Chichao can strengthen their cooperation in food trade in the future."

"I heard that Red Tide Territory is building roads? I have a few craftsmen who are very skilled at road construction..."

Even the titles have become extra particular: "Your Highness, Lord of the Crimson Tide", "Future Guardian of the North", "Ideal Successor to the Governor's Seat".

Of course, Louis knew that if anything happened, these "friends" would quickly switch sides.

Even the old baron who praised him for his domineering presence last night signed a petition in a secret room, demanding that Louis's excessive centralization of power be reduced.

Not to mention that once Edmund, who has pure blood, grows up, they will never mention "Louis, the future Lord of the North" again.

They would say, “Thank you for helping the North when we were in trouble. Now please return to your Red Tide Territory.”

So he hasn't accepted their friendship, let alone made any promises to them.

As time went on, the nobles found him unyielding and fewer and fewer came to him.

But fate still sent him an unexpected guest.

"His Highness the Sixth Prince has arrived," Lambert reported with his usual expressionless face.

Louis nodded slightly, put on his cloak, and walked into the living room, where the figure was already standing in front of the fireplace warming himself.

Asta Augustus, the sixth prince of the empire. He had no military achievements, no real power, and not much to speak of.

Some people privately call him a royal addition, someone who is listed in the family tree, but no one really expects him to inherit anything.

He turned his head, and a standard smile immediately appeared on his face: "Ah, Your Excellency Louis."

“Your Highness.” Louis nodded in return, his posture polite but without much emotion.

This is their second meeting.

The first time was at the Northern Reconstruction Conference two years ago, when Asta initiated a conversation, expressing some admiration, saying that "it is truly admirable that he has achieved so much at such a young age."

But unexpectedly, two years later, their roles have been reversed.

Louis Calvin, 22 years old, Lord of the Red Tide in the North, effectively controls the southeastern part of the North, and may even become the future Lord of the North.

He remained a "filler prince" who was stuck in the same place.

After they took their seats, the atmosphere fell into a silence even colder than that of Frostspear City.

Asta spoke first: "Speaking of which, although we both come from the Knight Academy, we have never actually met."

“Yes, you should have been close to graduating when I enrolled,” Louis replied politely.

"Back then, I often heard my advisor mention your class, saying you were very composed... and low-key." Asta coughed lightly, trying to change the subject. "I remember you didn't seem to like participating in tactical exercises back then?"

“…Indeed.” Louis smiled slightly, his tone gentle. “I spend most of my time in the library.”

Asta nodded, then suddenly seemed to remember something: "Actually, I originally wanted to go to the Red Tide Territory last winter... I heard you were doing some, well, institutional experiments there."

“You are welcome to visit anytime,” Louis said politely.

“It’s a pity winter came early.” Asta smiled, then added in a low voice, “The snow in the North always catches you off guard.”

“Indeed.” Louis maintained his polite smile. “If you plan to visit again, please let me know in advance and I will arrange your hospitality.”

The atmosphere was awkward, and the two fell into a brief silence.

Asta's eyes flickered slightly, and he hesitated several times as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

He had clearly planned to say something before coming, such as asking Louis for his support in mobilizing a group of people, or sending some material aid...

But as he looked at the man, five years his junior, whose shoulders were slowly gathering the power of the North, a strange sense of shame suddenly arose in his heart.

"Why say all this?" he thought to himself with a self-deprecating laugh.

"By the way," Asta suddenly changed the subject, "It's been very cold in Frostspear City lately, is Madam alright?"

“Thank you for your concern. Emily is three months pregnant and her condition is stable,” Louis said, his tone neither humble nor arrogant.

"Congratulations... This is a moment to remember." The prince smiled and nodded, but didn't know how to continue.

Louis didn't say anything more.

He didn't dislike the prince, but he knew he couldn't offer him assistance, form an alliance, or make any vague promises about "working together in the future."

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, the prince took his leave.

As he walked out of the hall, he glanced back at that figure and suddenly felt that he had accomplished nothing.

The moment the Sixth Prince left, the air seemed to finally relax, after all, the atmosphere had been too awkward.

Louis stretched lightly and looked out the window at the sky: "I've been in Frostspear City long enough."

Lambert handed over a cup of hot black tea: "Exactly half a month, sir."

“Maybe it’s been a day too long,” Louis said, taking the cup and leaning back in his chair. “It’s been long enough. It’s time to go home.”

"Spring planting, the establishment of new mining areas, and the progress of post-war reconstruction are all being managed through orders delivered by mail. You know, these are not things that Bradley can personally oversee for me."

Lambert nodded; he naturally knew of Louis's importance to the Red Tide Territory.

Louis stood up and put on his cloak. "Let's go. It's time to say a final goodbye to the Governor."

The governor's mansion remained quiet, with only physicians and servants coming and going.

Inside the council chamber, Duke Edmund sat in his high-backed chair, before him lay the latest batch of postwar damage statistics and supply requests.

“You’ve arrived.” He saw Louis and his eyes flickered slightly. “Sir, I must take my leave.” Louis said directly.

Edmund nodded slightly, gesturing for him to sit down, and then said, "I originally wanted you to stay. With New Frostspear as the center, take over my unfinished responsibilities and integrate the North."

He did not emphasize his words, nor did he use any words that sounded like "command".

Even though he was still the Governor of the North, he understood that the young man opposite him was no longer a subordinate waiting to be ordered around.

“I know,” Louis said calmly, looking at him. “But I can’t.”

"reason."

"The entire Northern Territory is ravaged; its water systems, transportation networks, and granaries have all collapsed. Imperial funding alone is insufficient for reconstruction. If I were to take over the entire Northern Territory now, I would only drag myself down with it." Louis paused, then continued, "I must return to the Red Tide. Starting from the southeast, we will concentrate resources on development."

"You want to establish a new order?" Edmund whispered.

“I want to establish a self-sustaining political system,” Louis replied calmly, “a base that can truly support the entire North.”

Silence lingered between the two for several quarters of an hour.

“…Do you know?” he suddenly said softly, “our Edmund family has been rooted in this land for three hundred years.”

“In the beginning, Frosthalberd was just a winter hunting camp. My grandfather told me that his grandfather dug the first well in this valley, used the water to cook porridge, and fed the entire territory.”

He paused, a hint of weariness in his eyes: "But by my generation, we've fought six major wars, three natural disasters, and one insect plague, which have utterly devastated the North. This city can barely hold onto a decent gate."

Louis stood silently, listening to him finish speaking, not daring to interrupt.

This was the first time he had seen this veteran, who was sharp-tongued in parliament and as calm as a knife on the battlefield, show such obvious fatigue.

“Of course I know you’re right.” Edmund turned to look at him, his tone now calm. “From strategic location and resource allocation to labor density and the foundation of order, Red Tide Territory is the most suitable starting point for reconstruction.”

But I still want... I still want to see Frostspear City brightly lit again someday. Do you understand this feeling, Louis?

“…” Louis straightened up and slowly said, “I understand, Your Grace. Although I am not yet capable of taking on the responsibility of rebuilding the entire Northern Territory for you.”

“But I assure you,” he said, gazing into those aged eyes, each word distinct.

“One day, I will rebuild Frostspear City. Not as an appendage of the Crimson Tide, but as the true heart of this northern land.”

After a moment of silence, Edmund suddenly laughed, a laugh that was both bitter and somewhat relieved.

He gazed out the window at the snow falling on the city walls. "You're right. This city isn't the future. I was just being delusional."

“I hope you won’t hate me for being selfish,” Louis said softly.

“Hate?” The Duke coughed a few times, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m not afraid of your selfishness. What I’m afraid of is that you’re not ruthless enough.”

“Since you want to return to Red Tide,” he turned his head, his gaze steady as he looked at Louis, “you can take the Broken Blade Knights back with you.”

Louis was startled and hadn't reacted yet when he heard him continue, "After I die, there will be the Cold Iron Knights and the Silver Fang Knights. The three orders together will have nearly five thousand riders, and you will also be in command."

Louis was stunned, as if he hadn't understood for a moment.

That wasn't some ragtag army; it was the elite of the elite in the entire Northern military command. With control of these three legions, he was truly the number one in the North.

"...Your Grace, this..." He instinctively clenched his fist, his brows furrowed in disbelief.

Edmund simply stared intently at him, his gaze piercingly sharp: "I don't have much time left. Little Isaac is still young, and Elena isn't exactly a shrewd strategist. If no one can protect me after I die, the entire family will be torn apart."

He said, almost in a whisper, "I hope you won't let them down."

In the firelight, Louis's gaze gradually darkened, and his chest felt as if something heavy was pressing down on it.

First came surprise, then an indescribable feeling of being moved welled up inside me.

“I understand. Your Grace, please rest assured.” Louis rose, knelt on one knee, and said in a steady and powerful voice, “On the day little Isaac grows up, I will return these three bundles to him intact.”

Because he is the true heir of the North. In the name of the Dragon Ancestor, I swear this oath.

"I believe you."

Edmund's hand trembled slightly, but it remained firmly on the table, as if suppressing the last trace of hesitation in his heart.

This was a gamble, a gamble involving the entire Edmund family, but he chose to trust the young man before him.

…………

At dusk, in front of the council hall of Frostspear City.

Duke Edmund stood on the steps, draped in a heavy cloak, still managing to maintain his usual air of authority.

But in the candlelight, that unwavering resolve could not conceal its fragility, like an ancient castle on the verge of collapse, struggling to maintain its last shred of dignity.

“Let’s go.” He looked at Louis, then turned to Emily, his voice hoarse.

Emily stared blankly at her father, her eyes moist.

But her father simply reached out and patted her shoulder gently: "You are already someone else's wife and about to become a mother. Frostspear City is not suitable for nurturing new life now. Go back."

She bit her lip, but finally lowered her head: "I understand, Father."

As the carriage slowly drove out of the city gate, the wheels made a dull sound as they rolled over the gravel.

Emily looked back and saw the towering building standing alone in the distance, her father's figure gradually disappearing into the twilight.

Louis reached out and took her cold fingers in his hand, and said softly, "Don't worry...we'll come back often."

Emily nodded gently, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't say anything more.

She didn't know that her husband's heart was heavier than hers at that moment.

Louis did not tell her that the Duke only had six months left to live.

So this farewell is not just a temporary separation, but perhaps the last time the father and daughter will see each other.

Louis and Emily sat side by side in the heavy carriage.

The carriage was furnished with soft blankets at Edmund's request, and the curtains were half-drawn, letting in a pale red hue of light from outside.

Emily leaned quietly on her husband's shoulder, her hand resting on her still-flat belly, but her eyes peering out through the gap in the fabric.

A magnificent procession of knights stretched out in a line along the long street.

At the forefront were two hundred elite knights from the Crimson Tide Territory.

Following them was the disciplined and iron-willed Broken Edge Knights, over a thousand knights, their armor reflecting a cold light in the morning sun, resembling a forest of steel.

The red flags of the Red Tide fluttered high, rustling in the wind like flames.

The thunderous hooves and the slow rolling wheels of the chariot made the entire procession resemble a giant red dragon, winding its way out of Frostspear City and heading towards Crimson Tide Territory.

(End of this chapter)