Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 322 Winter Supplies
The investiture ceremony proceeded very quickly.

Louis's simple statement, "Keep it simple," eliminated all the cumbersome steps.

There was no Dragon Ancestor Lord reciting poems, no long procession, and even the planned victory banquet was canceled.

This made Bradley frown; in his view, this was a new milestone for the Red Tide and should be celebrated in a grand manner.

Even though he was dissatisfied, he only whispered a few words of advice and eventually sighed and accepted it.

Of course, apart from Bradley, there was no opposition within Red Tide City. All civil officials, knights, and even the common people unconditionally supported Louis's decision.

As for the officials sent from the capital?

Their eyes frequently fell on Camille, and as long as Camille remained silent, they dared not raise any objections.

The truth is that Camille had absolutely no courage to resist at that moment.

He did whatever Louis told him to do, obediently following orders.

Even though no celebratory dinner was prepared, Camille didn't complain at all; instead, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

The sooner it ends, the sooner I can leave this suffocating city.

Camille took his leave early the next morning after the ceremony.

His reason was that he also needed to go to the Sixth Prince's residence to announce his rewards and his identity as the "Special Envoy for the Reconstruction of the Northern Territory".

Louis did not try to stop him, but simply smiled and waved for them to leave.

The horse-drawn carriage bumped along the snow-covered mountain road.

Camille leaned against the cushion, the cold sweat not yet completely gone.

The scenes from this trip kept replaying in my mind.

That severed head, that deafening roar... all turned into fear that made his breathing difficult.

But he was, after all, someone who had climbed his way up from the officialdom of the capital, and his mind quickly began to work.

Fortunately, Louis didn't break off relations on the spot, which meant he still had value, and as long as he had value, he could survive.

Thinking of this, he slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, his eyes gradually regaining their coldness: "Fine... since Louis needs me, I will pretend to comply."

Perhaps if I go to see the Sixth Prince, there will be a way out. The situation in the empire is complicated right now; someone will always need a pawn like me.

After all, there had been rumors in the capital that the new twin stars of the North were none other than Red Tide Louis and the sixth prince Asta.

Since Red Tide City can be so prosperous, then Prince Asta, as a prince, is naturally not much less so.

Camille was still trembling inside, but she forced herself to wear a thin layer of armor with this scheming.

The carriage continued its journey into the distance, with wind and snow howling outside and the world desolate.

…………

Frost Dragon Territory—the territory of the Sixth Prince.

More than half a year has passed since the barbarian fire, and wisps of smoke are now rising from the once charred ruins.

Beside the dilapidated city walls, new wooden houses have sprung up, and in the barren land, people are replanting, even if the harvest is meager.

Conditions here remain harsh, but Asta has not given up.

He personally oversaw the operation, gradually building up the territory and attracting a new group of refugees to his side.

The biggest challenge now remains food and supplies.

Initially, Red Tide City had sent him a batch of grain and cloth to help him through the famine.

However, since he was appointed as the Special Envoy for the Reconstruction of the North, Red Tide's funding has noticeably decreased.

His subordinates complained to him that Chichao was deliberately suppressing the prince.

But Asta didn't get angry; instead, he showed some gratitude.

"The struggle between nobles is inherently bloody. For Louis to provide material assistance is already very generous."

Moreover, the capital has promised that a large shipment of supplies will arrive in his territory before winter, which he can then distribute at his discretion.

These supplies will be his chance to turn things around, easing the food shortage and winning the support of the nobles.

So when the transport team finally arrived in Frost Dragon Territory, Asta stood in front of the warehouse, watching the truckloads of goods being slowly unloaded, feeling a sense of anticipation.

But when he walked into the warehouse himself, his hopes were instantly shattered.

The grain piled up in the warehouse was only a small portion of what he had originally estimated.

"What... what's going on?" Asta muttered to himself, his eyes growing increasingly gloomy.

He was prepared that some of these supplies would be embezzled by officials in the capital, since these nobles never missed any opportunity to exploit them.

But he hadn't expected that so little grain would actually be delivered to Frost Dragon Territory...

Several hundred bags of grain were only enough to feed a few hundred people for a few days. What remained were just some tattered cloths and a few boxes of dried meat that looked moldy.

Most of the goods in the warehouse were of almost no value.

"What's going on with you?!" Asta turned around, his face ashen, and coldly questioned the person in charge of transportation, "Is this the massive amount of supplies you promised?"

The person in charge lowered his head, avoiding eye contact: "Your Highness, it's really...it's really...there was a problem during transport. The roads in the north are blocked, and many supplies couldn't reach their destination smoothly..."

Upon hearing this, Asta's anger flared even more, and he almost couldn't resist rushing forward to grab the man's collar.

His mentor, Cipher, stepped forward and calmly said, "Your Highness, please calm down."

Asta whirled around, his eyes filled with disappointment and anger: "Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? Can this junk last me a winter? This food isn't even enough to feed half the people of Frost Dragon Territory!"

Cipher calmly analyzed: "There is indeed a problem with transportation. First of all, there are obstacles in the Northern Passage."

However, the main reason was the corruption within the empire, which caused these supplies to be delayed in arriving.

Moreover, those people in the capital have no intention of fulfilling their promises. It seems the Regent doesn't value the future of the North either.

Asta's expression grew even more grim: "So how are we supposed to get through this winter?"

Cypher sighed: "The worst-case scenario is that half the people of Frost Dragon Territory will die after winter. All we can do is make sure we can live well. As for the others... we can't control them."

Asta remained silent for a long time.

These supplies are simply not enough to support his people; they can't even meet half of their needs.

Of course, he didn't care whether ordinary people would starve to death in the winter.

They are nothing more than tools, pawns used to gain greater power.

What Asta really cared about was how to maximize the use of these limited food resources to win over his allies.

“I must accumulate enough influence in a short period of time,” Asta muttered to himself. “This grain cannot all be given to ordinary people. Only a small portion can be given to them; the rest must be used to make deals with those nobles.”

He thought of his allies; without sufficient supplies, those who supported him would immediately turn against Louis. "It's time to consider how to distribute them." Asta lowered his head slightly, a cold glint in his eyes, already calculating his next move.

Distribute grain to the nobles, provide them with sufficient security, and in return, gain their support.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly: "As for ordinary people... who can blame them for their bad luck?"

Cypher looked at him with a meaningful gaze.

Once upon a time, this child was still somewhat naive, always thinking about how to make life better for his people and about the responsibilities of the royal family.

However, after arriving in the North, Asta gradually broke free from the constraints of the capital and began to take control of his own destiny.

He gradually matured from an idealistic prince into a composed lord.

They know how to strategize and maximize the use of their resources.

But Cypher felt less disappointed and more of a sense of approval.

The game of power is never something that mere idealism can accomplish.

Asta's decisiveness is precisely the quality he must possess.

Cypher slowly turned and left, silently approving of Asta's decision.

…………

On Red Tide City, the cold wind carried the rustling sound of canvas as it swept by.

Around Liechao Square, warehouses were piled high with heavy sacks of grain, neatly stacked wooden crates, thick animal hides, and greasy iron barrels.

The supplies have not yet been distributed, but the scene is already orderly.

Pete landed heavily behind the distribution table with a bundle of packages in his arms. As soon as he put it down, a tingling sensation ran through his palm.

He was panting, so he took off his gloves to rest for a while, but his gaze involuntarily fell on the open wooden box at his feet.

"Tsk tsk, if this were in Baron Preston's territory, even knights would have to wait until the harvest festival to get a taste... but here there's so much." Pete muttered to himself, incredulous.

Inside the box were neatly bundled golden wheat grains, each sealed with fine linen and wrapped with two loops of cowhide rope, with a red label affixed to the top.

"You're already shocked by just seeing some good stuff?" A cheerful voice came from the side.

Pete looked up and saw that it was the middle-aged man named Jack, who was unkempt but had a commanding presence, and was even wearing a pair of leather boots.

“Your shoes…” Pete exclaimed in surprise.

Jack grinned and lifted his foot: "These were sent to us old Red Tide folks yesterday. They're from the Leatherworks, made of top-grain cowhide. They won't slip in the snow, and they won't let the wind through your head when you step on a barbarian."

Pete paused, still surprised, and said, "This is... too good to be true?"

"You call this good?" Jack clicked his tongue and pointed towards the warehouse. "Go take a look at those baskets of dried meat and smoked fish inside."

There were also packages of salted meat, pickled radishes, and dried mushrooms that were just packaged this morning… Our team was responsible for packing one package for each household.

Pete paused for a moment, looking at the row of wooden carts filled to the brim not far away: "Is this... also for everyone in the city?"

“They have everything.” Jack lowered his voice and leaned closer. “And that’s not all. If you have children or elderly people, you get an extra pack—a subsidy pack with the blue label.”

Pete was speechless for a moment.

He used to be a free man with land, and even owned three cows. In his early years, he could give some gifts to the tax collectors, although he still lived a meager life and sometimes went hungry in the winter.

The barbarian calamity destroyed everything. Half a year ago, he fled to Red Tide City. Because he was literate and had management experience, he was promoted to a grassroots supplies officer.

Today was the first time in his life that he had truly experienced "government-issued grain."

There were no shouting officials, no thieving subordinates, and no layers of embezzlement.

There were only truckloads of packed goods, neatly prepared lists, and a group of smiling villagers working.

Jack patted Pete on the shoulder, a hint of pride in his smile: "We didn't get this kind of treatment a few years ago. Back then, I was a slave."

The best food in winter is nothing more than two bowls of dried vegetable soup. If you can find a few pieces of overcooked bone in the soup, that's considered a blessing from the Dragon Ancestor. Just surviving to the point of freezing or starving is already a cause for gratitude.

Pete paused for a moment, about to offer words of comfort, but then noticed that there was no resentment in Jack's eyes; instead, his gaze shone with pride.

“The lord himself bought me from the slave market,” Jack said, straightening his back and raising his chin slightly.

"That day I was as thin as a stick lying on the ground, and he handed me the first piece of bread."

He grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth: "Now look at this warehouse, these supplies, and this entire Red Tide City..."

I'm a veteran who's been with Lord Louis since day one, building this place from scratch from a wasteland.

You who arrived later may not truly understand the hardships we endured back then, or the kindness of our lord.

Pete chuckled to himself.

This person is clearly showing off their seniority, and they do so with complete confidence and without any attempt to hide it.

He wanted to retort, saying that he was, after all, a former free man with land and cattle, and how could he be outdone by someone who had been a slave?
But Pete suddenly remembered those winters when he came to the Red Tide Territory; even if he still owned land and livestock, life was not necessarily easy.

The cow was so thin you could see its ribs; the house was so empty you could hear mice running around.

The entire leader took turns eating thin porridge; being able to eat some dry food was considered a celebration of the holiday.

The coldest time was when he even witnessed his neighbor's brother freeze to death in his house.

At that time, he thought he was a person of status, a free man who was superior to slaves.

But now, looking at the mountains of wheat, dried meat, and firewood, and the former slaves wearing new boots...

Pete then realized that the status of a free man might be worthless.

What truly determines whether you can live with dignity is whose territory you stand on.

An absurd yet chilling thought quietly surfaced: if only I had known this would happen, I shouldn't have stubbornly clung to those dilapidated plots in the first place.

If he had escaped to Red Tide City earlier, he would be living a much more respectable life now.

“But to be honest, this year really is the best year.” Jack’s words pulled Pete back to reality.

“Look over there.” Jack pointed to the side. “The warehouse is almost overflowing. Even Lord Bradley remarked that it was fortunate that it was expanded in advance, otherwise it would be piled up in the square by now.”

Pete looked in the direction he was pointing and saw dozens of boys carrying firewood and animal skin bags back and forth.

Those were students from Red Tide City who had been volunteering to transport supplies these past few days.

Looking at the neatly stacked carts of timber, grain sacks, and medicine chests, as well as the animal skin coats and boots produced in the workshop.

Pete couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "But... do we really have to divide all this stuff up?"

Upon hearing this, Jack did not answer immediately, but looked at the busy crowd, his gaze suddenly becoming more serious.

“The lord said,” he lowered his voice, as if mimicking Louis’s usual tone, “that this city will only exist if its people are well-fed, well-clothed, and willing to stay.”

(End of this chapter)