Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 324 The People of the North

On Fish Market Street in the northwest corner of Red Tide City, a low but large building complex was steaming in the cold wind.

That's the Red Tide Smoked Fish Workshop, which is now one of the three major industries in the city.

Today, the smoked fish produced here daily not only supplies the entire Red Tide Territory, but is also sold to the Southern Territory through the Calvin Merchant Guild's trade routes. It is even regarded by the Southern nobles as a "rare Northern flavor" and sells extremely well.

In the last few days before the winter holidays, the workshop was bustling with activity.

Washing the fish, gutting it, marinating it, hanging it up, and smoking it – each step is carried out in turn. Moisture and charcoal smoke intertwine to form a warm mist, and the heat carrying the aroma of charcoal permeates the air.

On the west side of the factory area, a middle-aged female worker is squatting next to the incense burner to check the temperature of the hanging rack.

She wore a coarse cloth scarf, moved cleanly and efficiently, and was covered with a sheepskin coat distributed by the Red Tide Workshop, with the sleeves rolled up high. Her hands were covered with traces of salt and fish oil.

Her name is Haili. She is the team leader of the smoked fish shop and one of the original inhabitants of the Red Tide.

Four years ago, when the barbarians raided the northern border, Hailey's village was destroyed overnight.

She fled into the forest alone with her ten-year-old son, Wel, and hid for three days, but was eventually caught by slave traders while starving and freezing.

They were taken to the Frostspear Market as cargo, and she had already prepared for the worst.

But on that day, a young man with black hair and a cloak arrived; it was Lord Louis.

Without saying a word, he bought the entire group of people, including her and Will.

They not only bought them, but also gave them food, jobs, clothing, and even independent houses.

Four years have passed, and now she is a junior manager at the Red Tide Smoked Fish Restaurant, considered part of the wealthy class in the Red Tide Territory.

Her greatest pride is her son, who is now the Red Tide Lord's personal guard knight.

When others mention Weil, they are full of envy for having such a successful son.

With three or four days left until the winter break, today's schedule is still packed.

The young people in the factory were already counting down to their holiday, muttering about whether there would be honey in the winter supplies and whether it would be our group's turn to receive leather boots this time. Occasionally, they would even sneak a piece of smoked fish to taste.

But Hailey didn't have time to pay attention to any of that. She stood by the charcoal stove, watching the temperature and skillfully poking at the wet charcoal with tongs.

He would occasionally issue commands: "The third rack on the right is not heated evenly." "Change that batch of marinade again, it's not fresh."

The fire crackled and popped, and wisps of white smoke rose faintly from the roof.

Just then, the bell rang.

Boom!
Short and profound, yet powerful enough to penetrate the entire city.

All the workers in the smoked fish workshop stopped what they were doing, and some even looked up at the roof, as if they could see through the heavy wooden beams.

The second and third sounds followed immediately.

"It's three shots!" someone whispered.

“It’s serious,” another person chimed in. “Could something have happened in the city?”

Hailey stood by the fireplace, her hands pausing, a sudden thought flashing through her mind: a sentence Will had let slip two weeks ago when he came home for dinner—"The lady is almost..."

Her eyes flickered, and an undisguised excitement rose on her greasy face: "It's... Lord Louis's child? Born?"

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves came from outside.

A Crimson Tide Knight halted his horse at the factory gate and announced loudly, "The Lord's son has been born today! Mother and child are safe and sound!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire hall fell silent for a moment, followed by a burst of cheers.

"It's born! It's the young master!"

"That's wonderful, Madam is safe... Thank God."

Hailey didn't speak, but let out a long sigh: "Finish your work and then stop. You've done enough for today. Go early tomorrow so you don't miss the young master's ceremony."

…………

The next morning, people spontaneously gathered in twos and threes outside Liechao Square to celebrate.

It started with just a few dozen people, but in less than half an hour, it grew into a crowd of thousands.

The carpenter brought a small cradle, the blacksmith offered a handmade bracelet, the hunter presented a freshly skinned silver fox pelt, and the grandmothers brought bundles of dried flowers and herbs, saying they could ward off evil spirits and promote restful sleep.

The children placed their most beloved wooden carvings in the center of the square, calling them guardians for their young owners as a way to help them grow.

The "blessing pile" in the center of Liechao Square grew higher and higher, and eventually officials had to organize its transport, collecting and counting it truckload by truck.

Bradley reported to Louis with a complicated expression: "The number exceeds expectations..."

Louis paused for a moment, then donned a crimson cloak and went to the high platform in the square.

He didn't give a long speech, but simply looked at the faces looking up at him and said, "I know you've come here because of my newborn child, and I thank you for your blessings."

He paused, his gaze falling on a small cloak embroidered with the sun, and said, "His name, Orsus Calvin, symbolizes the dawn."

As soon as he finished speaking, a genuine cheer erupted in Liechao Square.

"Long live Orsus!"

"The Dawn of the North!"

"The Lord's heir!"

May the little master grow up safely!

Hailey was in the crowd, shouting, shouting at the top of her lungs.

Her eyes were filled with a burning fire, her throat was dry from the cold wind, but a fervor welled up from the bottom of her heart that she herself did not realize.

It wasn't because the baby was particularly beautiful, nor because someone gave out money or food.

It was because she clearly remembered how she and Welsh, mother and son, had survived the winter in the slave market four years ago.

Without Lord Louis, they would be nothing more than lowly laborers doing dirty work on some noble estate, perhaps already frozen or starved to death, their names forgotten.

Now she is wearing a new fur coat issued by the workshop, has coal briquettes for heating at home, and has a small group of workers she can direct.

Her son was the lord's personal bodyguard.

This cheer is not blind obedience, but a choice made with memories.

She glanced around at the people, the Red Tide people standing in the snow with their arms raised.

Whether they were indigenous people, artisans from the south, or people who were originally slaves, every face was glowing.

Their cheers have a source: their lives are visibly getting better.

Louis on the stage neither stopped the crowd nor gave any orders; he simply stood there and watched quietly.

Finally, he calmly said, "Go home early, everyone, the snow is getting heavier."

…………

It was getting dark when Hailey left the square.

Just as she was about to turn into the residential area in the city center, she suddenly heard the soft sound of horses' hooves on the snow.

Looking back, it was Weil.

He was leading the horse, his cloak half-undone, his hair slightly damp, and his fingers still gripping the sword hilt, but he looked much more relaxed.

"Why are you back now?" Hailey was a little shocked, after all, he hadn't been home for more than half a month in order to protect Lady Emily.

“Lord Louis said I should go home first tonight,” the young knight scratched his head and smiled awkwardly, “saying that my mother has probably been waiting for several days.”

Hailey wanted to scold him, but she held back and simply asked, "Have you seen the young master?"

Will nodded. "Hmm... he can't open his eyes yet, but he's very energetic." He paused, then said softly, "I'll protect him."

These words came out so naturally, like a promise or a vow.

Hailey turned her head to look at him, her gaze softening: "The little brat has learned a sense of responsibility from the Lord's side."

The boy didn't speak, but coughed once.

The two walked home, one after the other, through the wind and snow.

…………

Meanwhile, on the other side of the North, outside Frostdrake Territory, a cold wind was blowing through broken tiles and ruins.

Compared to the Crimson Tide Plaza in Red Tide City, there were no cheers or blessings here.

Only a few people wrapped in tattered rags walked along the muddy, snowy path with their heads down.

They carried hay, dead wood, and a few vegetable scraps on their shoulders—that was all they had for the day.

Few households in the entire village had smoke rising from their chimneys; only a few thin figures huddled around the boilers.

They stood around the stove, their expressions blank.

The soup in the pot was steaming, but it was as thin as muddy water, with a few unknown black grass roots occasionally floating on the surface and swirling around in the soup.

A boy hunched his neck and coughed violently, his cheeks turning blue.

His mother picked up her bowl, said nothing, and silently poured the soup into her son's bowl.

There were no complaints or grievances.

They have learned how to quietly endure hunger.

A horse-drawn carriage bumped along the icy, muddy road, its wheels leaving mud tracks in the snow and slush.

Camille sat in the inner room, her hands wrapped in a mink coat, but her expression was not warm.

He lifted a corner of the curtain and looked out at the people standing in the cold wind with empty eyes. For a moment, he didn't know what expression to make.

"It seems we can't count on this place," Camille murmured, utterly disappointed.

At this moment, an indescribable emotion welled up in his heart.

It wasn't pity, but rather a sense of ironic contrast.

He suddenly recalled the Crimson Tide Square in Crimson Tide City a dozen days ago, where he stood on the platform of the investiture ceremony, and the people shouted "Long live the Lord!" The firelight illuminated the sky, and the cheers merged into a tsunami.

These people in front of us are merely alive; they have no strength to speak, let alone cheer.

Camille slowly withdrew her gaze and leaned back against the cushion.

Even if he was terrified of Louis, he had to admit that Asta was not on the same level as Louis when it came to governing the people.

After a while, the carriage slowly came to a stop, and in front of them was the so-called "temporary government office".

Two old government buildings were roughly pieced together, and the newly painted gray paint on the exterior walls was not yet dry, with the smell wafting in the cold wind.

Three flags stood in front of the gate, the one in the middle painted with a pale gold dragon pattern, which had faded slightly.

“At least… they made a show of it.” Camille lifted the carriage curtain, a barely perceptible sneer playing at the corner of his mouth.

A person was standing under the porch.

His gray cloak was tied neatly, his hair was clean, and his boots were polished to a shine.

That's the sixth prince, Asta.

Despite standing in the wind and snow, she maintained the dignified bearing of someone in a palace.

He stepped forward, a perfectly timed smile on his face: "Lord Camille has come from afar, representing the will of the capital and the hope for the reconstruction of the North. How could I not personally welcome him?"

After saying that, he extended his right hand.

Camille paused for a moment, then immediately smiled back and shook hands with him: "Your Highness is too kind. I was just following orders."

He was certainly aware of the true intention behind this "personal welcome."

His Highness is trying to win me over.

Before the "Northern Reconstruction Affairs Conference" is held next year, it is urgent to win the support of public opinion and resources from the capital.

As a special envoy for oversight, he was the most suitable intermediary.

"But are they showing me this stuff because they think I'm some kind of clueless fool?" he thought to himself.
Camille remained respectful and polite, smiling as he followed Asta into the government hall.

Night fell completely over the Frost Dragon Council Hall.

Inside, however, lanterns and decorations were everywhere, and the firelight and incense created a warm, dreamlike atmosphere.

Dragon-patterned banners hung high, flanked by rows of richly dressed nobles and their knights.

Most of them were vassal nobles of Asta, and a few had obviously come from surrounding territories to join in.

Camille glanced around and calmly took his seat to the right of the head of the table.

The long wooden table was polished to a shine, the silver cutlery was neatly arranged, and the candlelight flickered on the silver plates.

The dishes on the table were exquisite: honey-marinated venison, wild mushroom stew, frozen apple cider mixed with snow sugar, and a large plate of thick monster meat—clearly not something an ordinary person could afford.

Prince Asta personally presided over the ceremony and raised his glass: "No matter how heavy the frost and snow are today, they cannot stop Lord Camille's arrival. Cheers to this trust from the North and his wish for reconstruction."

He didn't say much, but instead drank the wine in his glass in one gulp.

Camille smiled faintly and raised his glass in return.

From the dishes and seating arrangements to the spices and etiquette, the entire banquet was a gesture of goodwill, demonstrating the prince's goodwill and capabilities to him, the special envoy in charge of the inspection.

"As expected of His Highness the Prince. But... it was ultimately too much of a stretch."

He did not deny the effort put into the banquet, and he could see that it was all Asta could muster, but that was all.

During the meal, the two spoke politely, discussing the reconstruction of the North, the policies of the capital, and the integration of the old nobility. The atmosphere was maintained at a balance between politeness and pretense.

Asta's demeanor was elegant and his aristocratic manners were impeccable.

But Camille knew that this composure was utterly powerless.

After the banquet, Camille was escorted back to her specially prepared VIP accommodations by her attendants.

As soon as I pushed open the door, a splash of red caught my eye. An exquisitely decorated gift box sat quietly on the table in front of the fireplace, as if it had just been brought in.

He paused, his eyes flashing almost imperceptibly.

"Oh...that's quite sensible." He chuckled softly, but didn't step forward immediately.

Because deep in my mind, the moment the pastry box was opened involuntarily flashed before my eyes, and a blood-red human head appeared.

His palms suddenly felt slightly cold. He sighed, forced himself to move closer, and slowly lifted the lid of the box.

Fortunately, there was no smell of blood.

It contained several sparkling gemstones, a pure gold bracelet, and an unsigned letter: "Dedicated to the esteemed guest of the Empire."

Camille chuckled softly. "That's quite clever."

He closed the box, sat back in his chair, and tapped the armrest with his fingers.

Camille had seen through the true nature of it all; to survive in the North, he had no choice but to obey Louis without reservation.

(End of this chapter)