Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 305 Territory Exchange
Inside the government office, the map on the long table was flattened, and the candlelight reflected on the sheepskin, making the various markings clearly visible.

Bradley circled a spot on his pen, his voice steady: "Most of the territories that need to be replaced are located around the Red Tide Territory."

In this way, all key locations can be woven into a complete road network, which will not only facilitate passage but also make it easier to set up defensive positions.

Several officials nodded in turn, adding information as they stood by.

However, their gazes still occasionally fell on a few red markers.

Those places are remote and desolate, not near waterways or trade routes.

It is worthless compared to the surrounding prosperous areas.

Finally, one of the young officials couldn't help but speak softly: "These places look quite ordinary..."

Before he could finish speaking, the older official beside him coughed lightly and said sternly, "Be careful what you say. These marks were left by Lord Louis himself. Have you ever seen him make a mistake?"

The young official was startled, then lowered his head, his face flushed.

Bradley observed this without changing his expression and said, "If we can't understand Lord Louis's orders, it only shows our lack of vision. Remember, our duty is to execute, not to question."

After a moment of silence, everyone bowed and nodded.

Of course, Louis didn't just randomly mark places. He had access to most of the secret resources in the surrounding area through the daily intelligence system, and only marked places with strategic value.

Some underground contain buried magic marrow veins, some harbor rare magical plants and beasts, and others are hidden transportation hubs.

On the surface, this is just a barren wasteland, but in reality, it could very well affect the future of the entire Red Tide Territory.

Of course, Louis wouldn't tell these officials the actual reasons, but rather let them do their own reading comprehension, just as the sun wouldn't explain why it shines.

After a brief silence, Bradley spoke again: "The negotiation strategy consists of three steps. First, courtesy."

They used other territories, grain, and gold coins as bargaining chips to exchange with those minor nobles. This made them feel they had gotten a good deal, and they willingly signed the treaty.

He paused, then tapped his fingertips lightly on the map.

"Second, if they still have doubts, cut off their mainstays: food, iron, or raw materials needed for their workshops."

These lifelines are all in the hands of the Red Tide. Let them taste the bitterness of loss, and sooner or later they'll come crawling back to us.

Finally, Bradley's voice turned colder: "If anyone remains obstinate, then report to Lord Louis and, under the pretext of 'defending against the barbarians,' send troops to take them down."

One blow is enough to teach others the lesson of cost. Of course, it's best not to go that far, as that would make Lord Louis think we're utterly incompetent.

After hearing this, all the officials lowered their heads and solemnly replied, "Understood."

After a final, precise calculation and deduction, the list of special envoys was finalized.

They will embark on this journey of "courtesy first, then force" with a contract symbolizing goodwill.

…………

East of Red Tide Territory, along the solitary cliff of Wind Howling Highlands, lies a small territory called "Secluded Vine Slope".

It is barren and desolate, with no trade routes around it. Apart from vines that can be used to make ropes, it has virtually no resources, and its inhabitants number only about a hundred.

However, according to the daily intelligence system, a very rare magical plant—the Abyss Silk Flower—is hidden on the edge of this cliff.

This is a magical plant that only grows in extreme environments.

If carefully refined, it will become the core catalyst for the next generation of "magic bombs".

This land belonged to a baron named Gareth Weilan.

Like Louis, he was a family outcast who was sent to the North by the Northern Expedition.

Upon learning that a special envoy from the Red Tide Territory had arrived, Baron Vilan hosted the most grand banquet in the territory's history in his dilapidated old castle.

The dilapidated hall was temporarily draped with brocade brought from the south, and the burlap sacks piled up in the corner were covered with straw mats, but from a distance it still looked decent.

He ordered his men to take out the only three bottles of wine left in the house, mix them with honey, and slaughter the few fat sheep he had.

Cut into two pieces and made into charcoal grilling and stewing, sprinkled with spices as if trying to use the spiciness and aroma to cover up the coldness of the roof cracks and wall fissures that have not been repaired for three months.

Even the broken silver cups were polished to a shine and neatly arranged on the table.

It's not for showing off, but to demonstrate respect.

Vilan knew perfectly well that the lifeline of her territory had long been secretly tied to the grain carts of the Red Tide Territory.

Food, seeds, ironware, salt... almost all the supplies that could sustain their livelihood and keep the Knights running came from the Red Tide trade route.

If he loses the favor of the Red Tide, his so-called noble status will be worth less than half a copper coin.

Moreover, the person who came this time was a special envoy from the Red Tide faction—Horn Greyland, who is said to be a highly trusted person by Lord Louis's side.

Even if Wei Lan had doubts, she could only put on a smiling face at this moment.

After all, in this North rebuilt amidst snow and corpses, he knew very well who truly controlled the situation.

Knight Horn Greyland was tall and imposing, dressed simply yet elegantly, with his sword always at his side.

He didn't say much when he took his seat, but opened several wooden boxes carried by his accompanying soldiers, revealing jars of golden pottery inside.

"This is newly brewed mead from the Crimson Tide Territory. It can stimulate the activity of internal fighting spirit... Consider it a small gift for His Excellency the Baron."

Vilan was taken aback.

He didn't expect that the special envoy would not put on airs but would bring a gift, which made him relax a little.

Vilan carefully took a sip of the mead, and indeed felt a slight surge of energy within her blood, causing her fighting spirit to actually improve somewhat.

"Good wine..." he blurted out.

The gift eased the atmosphere at the banquet, and the two ate and drank without discussing serious matters.

But Vivian was still uneasy, wondering about Horn's intentions.

It wasn't until halfway through the banquet that Horn put down his wine glass and slowly began to speak.

His tone was gentle, without any official jargon or concealment: "Baron Vilan, the Crimson Tide Territory wishes to exchange territories with you."

As soon as she finished speaking, the smile on Vivian's face froze almost imperceptibly for a moment.

He quickly regained his composure on the surface, even pouring himself a glass of wine, but inside he was in turmoil.

It turned out they had their eyes on this dilapidated patch of land beneath their feet.

It usually appears shrouded in mist and has a mysterious feel, but he knows best what this place is really like.

It hardly grows any crops, the soil is barren, and the annual harvest is less than what can be grown on the wasteland used to feed livestock.

For three whole months, the sun couldn't penetrate the trees, and the fog swirled among the treetops like the sighs of the dead. Some knights even reported seeing ghostly figures, which alarmed half the territory.

And the worst part is that this place is completely undevelopable, with no resources whatsoever. He sent people to try to cut down the vegetation, but it all turned to ashes in less than two days. He tried to build a fortress, but the foundations kept collapsing.

The only resource is a vine that can be used as a rope to exchange for supplies with the Red Tide Territory.

His hasty acquisition of this territory was his biggest mistake since gaining the right to expand into the North.

So when the people of Red Tide Territory offered to exchange that piece of land, his first reaction was not anger, but surprise.

A surge of excitement, as if he had struck it rich, welled up inside him.

Are those Red Tide people blind? They actually want this land?

But then, a hint of wariness, hidden behind the joy, also surfaced.

Wait a minute... these people won't do a losing business.

Horn was the official envoy of the Red Tide Territory, and they were always as shrewd as foxes.

Vilan's smile froze, a sense of unease rising within her.

If the Red Tide were replaced with something worse, like "Blackwater Swamp" or "Icebit Ridge," a place where even birds freeze to death, wouldn't he be jumping from a life of hardship into hell?
However, just as Vilan was weighing the pros and cons and trying to steer clear of the topic, Horn leisurely took out a scroll.

He unfurled the scroll in front of everyone, and under the firelight, a detailed topographical map was revealed, with a red seal of the Red Tide Metropolitan Administration pinned to the corner of the map.

“Your Excellency, please look,” Horn said in a gentle and composed tone, tapping his finger lightly, “We are willing to exchange this fertile land to the north for Vine Slope.”

The area he pointed out is located in the southeastern part of the country, adjacent to a tributary of a large river, with flat terrain and abundant water resources.

The map is marked with several annotations in fine ink.

The estuary wetlands, three areas marked as farmland, two paths, and a suspected vein of ferruginous iron.

“The terrain here is stable and not prone to waterlogging; the soil on the south slope is gray-brown, which, according to surveys, is suitable for growing wheat.” Horn added, looking up, “More importantly, there is a suspected extension of a cold iron ore belt here, which is very likely an iron mine.”

Vilan's heart suddenly wavered, and even her breathing slowed down.

Cold iron ore? This mature vein could practically sustain an entire territory!

It can be said that this is a rather good piece of land. Compared to his desolate, ghostly vine-covered slope, it is a proper fiefdom that nobles would dream of.

Wait a minute, something's not right...

Why? Why would Red Tide exchange a piece of land that could almost be used as a vassal territory of the main city for this piece of land?

But no matter what, he knew he had to raise the price.

He slowly revealed a troubled expression, sighed, raised his wine glass to hide his expression, and forced a smile: "Your words... are quite sudden. This is my ancestor..."

Before he could finish speaking, Horn's tone remained gentle, yet carried a chilling bluntness: "Your Excellency, you have only been in the North for two years, and to use the term 'ancestral' is perhaps... a bit too shameless."

The air suddenly froze.

Even though Vivian had a thick skin, her heart skipped a beat, and she almost spilled her wine.

He coughed twice, forcing an awkward smile: "Ahem... Indeed, I remembered it wrong."

But Vivian was thick-skinned enough; her expression quickly changed, and she immediately adopted a feigned look of regret, saying in a sorrowful tone:
"Although there is no blood relation, I have a deep affection for this land. I patrol the mountain mist every day and listen to the birds singing in the mist. I have long regarded it as my own child."

The attendant standing nearby nearly spat out his wine.

Horn remained unmoved, merely smiling slightly, as if he had already anticipated such remarks.

“In that case,” he said unhurriedly, “then add another hundred gold coins, and three months’ worth of food rations for the territory.”

He spoke casually, as if discussing a trivial business deal, and then added off with a casual remark:
"The Red Tide Territory is only there because its terrain facilitates trade. If the Baron finds it too difficult to give it up, that's fine too."

Vivian was overjoyed: That's right! I was right to ask for the lion's share!

But he still wore a wronged expression, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a mosquito: "This... Your Excellency is indeed a reasonable person... However..."

He paused, his eyes revealing a hopeful expectation of "adding some more".

Horn did not respond. He picked up his glass, took a sip, and simply looked at him calmly, without any impatience or desire to raise the price.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

Lacking negotiation experience, Vilan realized that this was probably the highest price Red Tide Point could offer, and if she asked for more, she might lose what she had almost gotten.

He could only grit his teeth inwardly, suppress his thoughts, coughed, put on a weighing-the-great-sense expression, and slowly nodded: "This... alright, for Lord Louis's sake... let's change it."

After saying that, Wei Lan deliberately covered her face with her hand and muttered to herself, as if she had suffered a great loss, but the corners of her mouth had already quietly turned up.

A dilapidated hill, perpetually shrouded in fog and avoided even by knights, was transformed into fertile fields, rivers, mineral veins, gold coins, and grain...

"It's like a windfall! Red Tide Territory is really generous..." Vilan chuckled to herself.

Horn tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over Vilan's barely concealed smugness.

This newly promoted pioneering nobleman tried hard to suppress the corners of his mouth, but it looked extremely unnatural; he was truly a novice at negotiation.

But Horn didn't expose him; he just smiled faintly.

He has achieved his goal.

Although Horn didn't understand why Lord Louis would personally list this almost unproductive barren slope as a top-tier exchange target.

But what he knew was that, given the current terms of exchange, the Red Tide Territory could offer at least three to four times the price.

In other words, Horn acquired an incredibly expensive target at a minimal cost.

“The mission has been perfectly accomplished.” Horn smiled slightly and spread the prepared files out on the table.

"If there are no objections, please have His Excellency sign and affix his seal."

Vilan couldn't wait any longer. He could still be reserved before the envoy arrived, but now that the other party had offered him paper and pen, he smiled so much that his eyes crinkled into crescents: "Of course, of course!"

He pretended to flip through a couple of pages, muttering things like, "The terms are reasonable," and "Lord Louis is indeed an upright man."

Without hesitation, he stamped his family crest with the seal.

Horn silently took notes, and after a polite farewell, he stood up and slowly put away the map and contract.

Baron Vilan, on the other hand, was still basking in the small satisfaction of his negotiating genius, as if he had just gained the upper hand in a negotiation with a tiger.

But they were unaware that beneath this seemingly insignificant barren slope lay a priceless treasure.

The roots of the Abyss Silk Flower meander like a spider web. If its core nerve fibers can be successfully extracted, it will be the catalyst for a new generation of magic explosive bombs.

In the future, it will become the core weapon that turns the tide of war.

(End of this chapter)