Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 371 The White Bear Knight
The fleet at Shuguang Harbor has set sail, its white sails gradually disappearing into the sea fog in the morning light.

Louis did not stay at the port to celebrate; that was only the beginning of a long voyage. The destination was Red Tide City, the brain of the North.

So the carriage traveled south, and he sat back down at his familiar desk, facing a mountain of official documents and orders, and began a new round of government affairs.

Bradley pushed open the door, carrying a thick ledger, and bowed slightly, saying, "Sir, this is this year's autumn harvest report."

Louis looked up without speaking, signaling the other person to continue.

“This year has also been a bumper harvest,” Bradley turned to the first page, “total production of about 340,000 tons. Although the growth rate has slowed, the granaries are still full.”

He paused, then sighed softly.

"There are three reasons: greenhouses and steam storage are still in use, but the new production capacity is decreasing marginally. Newly reclaimed land in the border areas was affected by cold waves and pests, and the output did not meet expectations. Also, freezing fog delayed the harvest in the final stage."

Louis paused for a moment, his gaze falling on the Wheatfield Territory on the map, the heartland of the Red Tide's food supply.

“In other words,” he said calmly, “this year’s growth has stalled.”

Louis could understand this; there's only so much land, and there's no miracle of doubling every year.

The growth of food production has reached its limit, which is the combined limit of both nature and human effort.

“Yes, sir.” Bradley closed the ledger. “However, the reserve lines remain secure. The three-year grain target for the entire North has been met, but…”

“We just can’t distribute resources as haphazardly as we have in previous years,” Louis said calmly. “The chaos in the Empire is not over yet. Our grain remains the most important thing in the North.”

Bradley nodded slightly: "My suggestion is to maintain the red tide reserves without any changes, but to differentiate them more precisely in terms of quotas and prices."

Allied territories continued to supply supplies at low prices or through subsidies, while those who had not submitted... received slightly higher prices—enough to make them jealous, but not enough to enrage them.

Louis smiled, a smile tinged with sarcasm: "There's absolutely no need to worry about those nobles who haven't joined the Red Tide regime. Since they've already chosen sides, there's no need for us to be polite to them."

The grain given to them was only slightly cheaper than that from the south, and no further favors were needed.

Lords who haven't joined the Red Tide are dreaming if they want a lower price. There are no favors outside the system; loyalty is the most important currency.

Bradley listened, a smile flashing across his face: "I understand, that's exactly right."

Louis didn't reply, seemingly lost in thought. The hall fell silent for a moment, broken only by the crackling of the embers in the fireplace.

After a moment, Louis looked up and broke the silence: "Starting next year, we will introduce the Red Tide's grain production technology and governance system into the noble territories that have already joined the system."

Bradley's expression changed slightly, and he hesitated for a moment before saying, "Sir, the Red Tide's technologies and systems are valuable...aren't they too precious to be shared casually?"

Louis looked out the window at the gray sky and said calmly, "I judge that the Empire may fall into great turmoil in the next few years."

To survive in chaotic times, we need special methods to accumulate strength more quickly. The core technologies need to be in our hands; no matter how fast others learn, they won't grasp the essence.

Bradley pondered for a moment, then finally nodded: "Understood, sir."

The two then spread out a new parchment scroll and drafted a rough plan for promoting spring planting next year on the table.

"The files and contracts must be finalized before this winter," Louis succinctly listed a few key points. "The council must maintain firm control over seeds and greenhouse supplies."

From early spring to late summer, the pilot program will be implemented in stages: piloting, sowing, replication, and evaluation. A performance ranking system will be established for each stage, with clear rewards and penalties.

Bradley, who was taking notes, added in a low voice, "What about the grain storage silos in each territory? Are they also required to be standardized?"

“It is essential.” Louis nodded. “At least one standard warehouse must be built in every contracted territory, and the grain routes must be interconnected.”

He paused, then wrote a new line on the paper: "Law and oversight must go hand in hand. Oversight officials must not be bribed by nobles or remain in office for too long; if such signs appear, they must be replaced immediately."

Bradley raised his head, a resolute look in his eyes: "What if the nobles delay or unite to resist?"

“Cutting off supplies and auditing,” Louis said calmly. “If they try to play tricks, let them think about the meaning of loyalty while they’re starving.”

“Of course, this is just a framework,” Louis said, closing his pen. “The details will have to be completed and implemented by you.”

Bradley put away the draft and solemnly replied, "Yes, sir."

He turned to leave, but Louis suddenly spoke up: "Bradley."

The old butler stopped and turned around slightly.

"Take care of yourself." Louis's tone carried a sincere warmth. "There will be many areas where your help will be needed in the days to come."

Bradley paused for a moment, then gave a genuine smile: "I will, sir."

…………

Street vendors set up copper stoves, the aroma of roasted meat mingling with the scent of sweet wine.

Children from ordinary families gathered around the sugar cart, watching the syrup flow like golden threads under the lamplight on a winter night.

On the other side, nobles emerged from the theater, lifting the snow from the edges of their cloaks, and brushed past workers and apprentices without any barriers.

Further away, an old craftsman was playing the accordion at his stall, while several soldiers clapped along with jars of hot liquor.

In the brightly lit shop windows on the street, a seamstress was showing customers the latest style of coats from Red Tide, which was said to have been designed by Mrs. Emily herself.

The light and melodious tune coming from the karaoke bar came to an abrupt end when the night patrol's horn sounded, replaced by the soft piano music of a street performer.

This is the night in Red Tide City. Its prosperity is different from the extravagance of the capital; it is a kind of orderly freedom.

Whether worker or noble, everyone could enjoy the night under the same lamp.

Even the poorest refugees can enjoy a cheap yet warm drink under the lamp.

A carriage slowly drove across the square. Merian leaned against the cushions, watching the lights flicker above the crowd.

Finally, the carriage stopped in front of the theater. The servant opened the carriage door, and a cold wind swirled in the snow. Merian instinctively hunched his shoulders.

He then straightened up, smiled slightly, like a gentleman who had learned how to deal with gazes.

Merian was led to the top-floor banquet hall, a place accessible only to the most distinguished people in Red Tide City.

The sounds of music, the aroma of wine, conversation, and soft laughter blend together to create a gentle backdrop.

Several Red Tide nobles, researchers, and knight commanders sat around a long table, their cups reflecting the light and snow shadows.

A young female singer softly sang "Dawn in the North" on stage, her voice clear and bright like water flowing down a glacier.

Merian has been the focus of attention lately, and he has gradually become accustomed to such occasions.

Although he is still occasionally reserved, he has begun to know how to respond to jokes, when to raise a glass, and even how to initiate small talk with people.

Some joked about the new turmoil within the Northern Council, while others praised Red Tide's workshops for being able to open during the snow season.

Merian simply smiled, occasionally interjecting with a few words, recounting amusing anecdotes he had heard in the lab a few days prior.

For example, during an experiment, Hilco's apprentice accidentally blew up a metal pot, which then crashed through the roof.

"That kid's been transferred to repair chimneys now," he said casually, eliciting a burst of laughter.

During the banquet, a nobleman raised his glass and flattered, "If it weren't for Lord Louis's discerning eye in recognizing talent and inviting Lord Merian, the North would have been missing half a miracle."

Merian smiled and replied, his tone calm but sincere: "The Red Tide gave me everything: space for research, freedom, and a warm room. Thank you, Lord Louis."

The group nodded in agreement.

The conversation then shifted, with some mentioning the extravagance of the capital, and others marveling that the North now possessed such a city—it was like a dream. Merian gazed at the light reflected in the wine, a soft feeling welling up inside him.

Yes, he is no longer the prisoner huddled in the shadows.

Although he wasn't completely at ease yet, he had learned to enjoy it—to enjoy being respected and to enjoy his place in Red Tide City.

The banquet lasted until late at night.

Merian didn't drink much. After politely exchanging pleasantries with several officials, he left early.

As I stood at the theater entrance, the snow intensified, and lights pierced through the snow curtain, illuminating the clock tower at the end of the street.

When they returned to the alchemy tower, the fireplace was still burning.

Merian looked at the pile of notes and sample bottles on the table; the recent experiments had been quite difficult.

The Frost Giants project that Louis gave him was too difficult, mainly because the giants' sanity was extremely unstable. Every adjustment to the potion ended in failure, and several rampages nearly caused a tragedy.

But Louis didn't pursue the matter further, simply saying, "Let's explore other directions first."

At that moment, Merian felt a complex sense of gratitude.

If you can't complete the mission in the Emerald Federation, you'll most likely get beaten up.

He was grateful and decided to proactively adjust his research direction: from the high-risk control of giants to the more controllable taming technology of large magical beasts, intending to use the technology he developed to further support giant experiments.

So Merian began conducting new experiments in the monster territories outside the city.

The testing ground was located near the tundra on the north bank, surrounded by iron cages and thick wooden walls.

Merian's chosen target was a grumpy polar bear, a top predator in the North.

Its fur is cold-resistant, and its bone density is extremely high, allowing it to tear apart iron gates with its bare hands. No one had ever successfully domesticated it before.

For the first few days of the experiment, it ended in failure almost every day.

The polar bear went berserk, the cage was destroyed, and the apprentice was injured.

The excessive injection of the drug actually intensified its aggression; the sonic induction device shattered the glass, but it did not calm it down.

For those few days, the entire test area was filled with the smell of blood.

But Merian did not stop. He repeatedly adjusted the formula, reduced the induction frequency, and wrote dense annotations in his experimental notes.

His hands were red from the cold wind, but his eyes remained focused.

At night he often sat by the fire, contemplating the boundary between control and instinct.

Until one day by chance... When Merian was preparing a new potion, he accidentally poured a small bottle of "Frostheart Solution" residue into the catalyst.

That was a drug used in experiments on giants in the past, and the dosage was usually extremely dangerous.

But that time, after the medicine was injected into the polar bear, the bear's roar did not last long.

It first breathed softly, then lay down quietly, emitting a low whimper.

There was dead silence.

Merian held his breath, watching those violent eyes gradually dim. It wasn't death, but a form of submission.

“Record reaction time... thirty-seven seconds,” he whispered as he recorded.

That night, Merian did not return to the city. Snow fell all night, and the lights in the test area shone on the polar bear's calm body.

Weeks later, the experiment was finally a success.

Under taming commands, polar bears can execute simple combat commands—charge, pause, and guard.

Upon hearing the news, Louis decided to go and see for himself.

Snow and fog billowed at the military testing ground in the early morning.

Nearly a hundred knights surrounded the demonstration area, their breath condensing into white mist in the air.

The white bear in the center of the arena was enormous, with thick, silvery fur. He wore light armor in the style of the Crimson Tide, with the Crimson Tide emblem engraved on his chest. The combination of metal and fur made him even more imposing as a knight.

Its breath swirled up white smoke, and its eyes glowed with a pale blue light.

Merian stood to the side, looking slightly nervous, while Weil couldn't contain his excitement.

Louis noticed his eager expression and chuckled, "Want to try? Then go up and see if it obeys."

"Yes, sir!" Will smiled and leaped onto its back.

The giant beast let out a low growl, but did not resist, its four limbs firmly planted on the ground.

"Charge!" Wel gave the order.

The polar bear suddenly took off, its chain-like muscles undulating beneath its fur, shattering the snow and creating a white wave.

It crashed into the three layers of thick iron shields in front of it, and the shield wall was directly shattered, with wood fragments and iron pieces flying everywhere.

Amidst the snow and mist, the behemoth roared, and Wel raised the Crimson Tide Banner high, the banner fluttering in the wind and snow.

After circling around, Weil shouted, "Stop!"

The polar bear slowed its pace and came to a steady stop in front of the shattered shield wall, white steam still rising from the armor plates on its chest.

A gasp of surprise erupted from the crowd.

Louis smiled, while his two young guards, Kosa and Gray, stared in disbelief.

"Want to give it a try?" Louis asked in a lighthearted tone.

The two exchanged a glance and immediately replied, "Yes, sir!"

They clumsily climbed onto the giant beast's back, and the polar bear merely shook its fur, as if tolerating children's playfulness.

In subsequent test rides, it remained consistently stable.

Laughter and bugle calls mingled amidst the wind and snow, creating a lively scene.

Even after dismounting, Wel was still full of energy, smiling and saluting: "Sitting on it is like sitting on a walking city wall."

Merian looked up at Louis, his voice brimming with barely concealed excitement: "If training continues, it will be able to perform more complex maneuvers, such as turning, dodging, coordinated attacks, and even switching rhythms between commands. But it will require time and repeated guidance."

Louis nodded, his gaze fixed on the enormous polar bear, clearly pondering further possibilities.

In the northern army, a new type of soldier, unlike any seen before, has appeared.

Polar bears are cold-resistant, incredibly strong, and adapted to charging through snow. They can serve as both assault vanguards and heavy load haulers...

"Approve the expansion of research, establish the Red Tide Beast Service Corps, and form the first White Bear Knight Order." Louis gave the order, his tone calm but unable to hide his excitement.

He then ordered Bradley to allocate funds and rewarded Merian with a whole chest of gold coins and rare materials.

Merian couldn't help but laugh as he accepted the reward. A year ago, he didn't understand the purpose of gold coins, but now he knew how to make them bring him joy.

(End of this chapter)