Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 37 Training the Wolf
As night fell, Louis, Sif, and several knights sat in the restaurant having dinner.

A few dim oil lamps were lit, illuminating the simple meal on the long wooden table.

The smoked fish had a faint aroma of firewood, the wheat porridge was still steaming, and there were a few pieces of coarse wheat bread and some pickled cabbage on the side.

The restaurant itself was not decorated in any fancy way; it had wooden tables and chairs, slightly yellowed oil lamps, and even some cracks visible on the wooden walls.

Sif watched all of this with some surprise in her heart.

This was completely different from the aristocratic life she had imagined.

In her mind, a nobleman's table should be covered with a tablecloth with gold trim, the plates piled high with exquisite food, the silverware gleaming, and the wine glasses filled with sweet wine.

In reality, although Louis's dinners were slightly better than those of the average person, they were by no means luxurious.

Louis noticed a subtle change in her expression: "Not to your liking?"

Sif quickly shook her head: "No."

Although she had once been a princess of the tribe and ate better than she does now, resources in the North were scarce, so she couldn't afford to be extravagant.

She picked up the bowl of porridge and took a sip. The warm, wheaty aroma spread in her mouth, and the taste was quite good.

Halfway through the meal, Sif looked up and casually asked, "What are you going to do tonight?"

Louis said, chewing on a smoked fish, "Training wolves."

"Training wolves?" Sif paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up.

Louis nodded. "Yes."

Now Louis spends a few evenings each week at the training grounds training the direwolf Cold Front.

After several weeks of training, Leng Feng has begun to respond to Luis's orders, but he still needs more practice to fully obey them.

Today we practiced hunting signals.

Hunting whistles are a system of whistles specifically designed for taming wild animals, often used for hunting, fighting, or patrolling.

It uses different tones and rhythms to help animals understand and execute commands.

Louis raised his hand, put the whistle to his lips, and blew a long, high-pitched note.

Leng Feng's body tensed slightly, then he lowered his body, pressing his limbs firmly to the ground, ready to ambush his prey at any moment.

Then Louis blew two short notes.

Leng Feng suddenly leaped up and pounced on the target in front of him. His sharp fangs bit into the cloth decoy and tore it apart with force!
The cloth ripped, and the wolf let out a low growl.

Finally, Louis played a series of rapid trills.

Leng Feng abruptly stopped, scanning his surroundings warily before releasing his sharp teeth and quickly retreating back to Louis's side.

The entire set of movements was smooth and crisp, demonstrating a certain level of tactical coordination ability.

Louis nodded in satisfaction and gently stroked Leng Feng's neck.

"Well done," he said in a low voice, then took out a piece of sliced ​​meat from his waist and handed it to Leng Feng.

Leng Feng licked his fangs, but did not pounce immediately.

Instead, it glanced at Louis first, and only after confirming its master's permission did it suddenly open its mouth and bite into the piece of meat, letting out a satisfied growl.

“It’s starting to get going.” The beast trainer, Aiger, stepped forward respectfully, his tone tinged with satisfaction. “Your progress in taming it is faster than I expected.”

However, gaining Leng Feng's complete obedience will require more time and adjustment. After all, the dire wolf is different from ordinary wild beasts; trust and obedience must be built up gradually.

“Yes, I know,” Louis replied.

Sif looked at the direwolves in the training field, her expression gradually darkening.

Back in her tribe, she also had a dire wolf.

A lonely moon.

That was the direwolf she had raised from cubs; they hunted together, ran together through blizzards, and kept each other warm in the cold nights…

But now it's probably...

Sif's hands unconsciously tightened, her fingertips digging into her palms.

She was killed. In the days after waking up from her coma, Sif tried to avoid thinking about these tragedies, but she couldn't help it.

Louis glanced at her, seemingly noticing something was wrong, and asked softly, "What's wrong?"

Sif remained silent for a moment, but finally couldn't help but say, "I used to have a direwolf, but it's dead."

Her tone was calm, as if she were stating something that had nothing to do with her.

Louis hesitated for a moment, then pointed to a group of direwolf cubs in a distant enclosure: "Would you like to pick another one to raise?"

Sif froze, as if she hadn't reacted.

She looked at the group of furry wolf cubs, some sitting, some lying down, huddled together softly.

Her gaze slowly swept over each one, finally settling on a wolf cub in the corner.

Its fur had a faint silvery-gray tinge, and its pupils were ice-blue, somewhat resembling the lonely moon in my memory.

She stepped forward and gently extended her hand.

The wolf cub timidly sniffed her fingertips, then cautiously stuck out its tongue and licked her palm.

In that instant, it was as if she had been pulled back from the maze of memories.

Sif's eyes reddened slightly as she gently stroked the wolf cub's soft fur with her fingertips: "Then you'll be called Lone Moon from now on."

The little wolf let out a soft whimper, as if in response to her.

Sif's throat tightened slightly.

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but no sound came out.

The next moment, warm tears silently slid down and landed on the wolf cub's soft fur.

…………

As the training progressed, night fell.

Louis stood by the training field, casually stretched, and turned to look at Sif: "That's all for today's work. Remember to write down my schedule when you get back."

Sif nodded, turned and left, returning to her cabin.

As one of only three literate individuals in the territory, Louis specially arranged a separate room for her.

The wolf cub hasn't been brought back yet because it hasn't fully accepted its owner.

Sif sighed softly, cleared her mind, walked to her desk, and lit the oil lamp.

She opened her notebook and began writing down her day's entries, line by line.

In the morning, the lord personally trained the soldiers, who treated him with great respect.

The lord inspected farmland and fisheries, and offered suggestions for development.

They offered care to the injured knight and promised to provide better medication.

Discover the potential of birch sugar and attempt to promote the development of the sugar industry.

……

After writing down Louise's schedule for the day, Sif stared at the lines of text for a long time, feeling a mix of complex emotions.

Despite being a lord, he possessed none of the arrogance of a nobleman.

He was highly respected wherever he went.

With a light touch of her pen, she wrote four words on another piece of paper—"He's a good person."

After writing it, she looked at the sentence and suddenly felt a little unconvinced, muttering arrogantly, "It's probably an act."

But deep down, I no longer think that way.

She casually tossed a piece of birch sugar into her mouth.

The sweetness melts in your mouth, carrying a unique woody fragrance.

Sif leaned back in her chair and murmured softly, "Mmm, so sweet."

(End of this chapter)