Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 373 Three Letters

Night fog rises from the sea onto the tower, and the slightly salty moisture condenses into fine water droplets in the window cracks.

The air in the study was slightly cool, the candlelight flickered, and the light and shadow constantly distorted on the wall.

Duke Calvin sat behind his desk, which was covered with secret letters from the capital and various parts of the southeastern provinces.

He opened and replied to each letter one by one; that's how the Southeast Province operated.

The next letter was from Port Verona. He scratched off the wax seal; the ink on the letter was still wet.

"The Dawn Fleet's nine warships have successfully arrived at Vero Port. Their cargo includes Qi Vein Stones, Burning Iron, and Demon Marrow Ore, totaling an amount equivalent to half a province's annual revenue..."

Duke Calvin's gaze lingered there.

Ships symbolize the power of circulation, and nine capital ships signify the opening of an independent shipping route.

“Nine ships…” Duke Calvin repeated in a low voice, “In just a few years, even the barbarian frozen lands have been transformed into ports.”

He knew that Louis was building a port in the North, and that his family had funded craftsmen to go and help with the construction.

But no one expected that Louis would organize something on such a large scale, and that he was clearly hiding his true strength.

Duke Calvin leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the sea fog outside the window.

Then he took out a map of the North from the drawer. The map marked Red Tide, Wheat Waves, and Dawn Harbor, which he had marked himself.

Although none of the spies he had planted had infiltrated the upper echelons of the Red Tide, he did have some low-level officials among them, so he still knew some basic information about the Red Tide.

Centered around the Red Tide, Louis's influence has expanded rapidly in recent years, and he can even be called the true new King of the North.

The Duke of Calvin's mind raced through the intelligence gathered over the past few months.

Prince Asta died in Frost Plains, and the flag of Frost Dragon Territory was replaced by the flag of Crimson Tide. He even suspected that Louis was behind it all.

The reason is that after this incident, the Red Tide Knights took over the northern defense line, and no nobles dared to resist Louis anymore, and the chaos in the north was completely suppressed.

"If you ask who will benefit from this..." he tapped the letter lightly with his fingertips, "who else could it be but him?"

Duke Calvin unearthed old files, documents from four years ago, authorization letters for dispatching to the North, which stated:

Louis Calvin led forty knights to the North, distributing eight hundred gold coins and two cartloads of grain.

The Duke looked at the words and a faint smile appeared on his lips, a smile devoid of warmth.

“I was so generous back then,” he murmured, the candlelight casting a weary shadow on his face.

"The North is now under Calvin's control, which is a good thing. It's just that it doesn't obey me."

He looked at the family genealogy on the wall, his finger pausing between the names Gaius and Louis.

One disappeared with the emperor in the capital, while the other established a kingdom in the north.

“Irony.” Duke Calvin’s sigh echoed in the room. “Now that he’s out of control, we must find a new way to cooperate with him.”

He got up, walked to the counter, and took out several ledgers.

The trade between Red Tide and the Calvin Chamber of Commerce appears prosperous on the surface, but in reality, the proportions are unbalanced.

Red Tide hardly needs any more allocations from the family's business guild, while the family's business guild relies on Red Tide's supply to maintain its operations.

He tried time and again to regain control of Louis and intervene in matters in the North, but each time he was gently but firmly rejected.

He sent his treasurer to the Calvin Merchant Guild in the North to audit the accounts, but was informed that "Red Tide's accounts are only disclosed to the Lord of the North."

He tried to restrict shipments by citing obedience to the family business association's allocation, but the other party changed the shipment route to self-operated...

After several attempts, he finally understood that Louis was not betraying them, but rather wanted to break away and escape the control of the Calvin family.

He was closer to the Edmund family than the Calvin family.

Duke Calvin closed the ledger, his voice low and somber: "This time, I'm going to let him make his own choice."

They either rejoin the family system and accept Calvin's command, or they are completely excluded.

We can't let him use the commercial taxes at will anymore, otherwise he'll gradually slip out of our control.

The Duke of Calvin wrote down his instructions: revise the Red Tide Trade terms, using a partnership framework and excluding them from direct family ownership.

He put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked down at the map of the empire on the wall.

With the regent seriously ill, factions within the court began to stir.

The Ministry of Finance has split into two factions, the Ministry of Military Affairs is changing its orders three times a day, and even the troops stationed on the border are testing the authenticity of the orders.

The second prince, who controls the Ministry of Military Affairs, is eager to establish an alliance between the nobility and the legions.

The fourth prince secretly communicated with the Censorate, attempting to consolidate power in the cabinet.

Meanwhile, the prince favored by the Papacy is secretly laying his hands on pieces in the Eastern Territory.

The entire empire seemed to be pulled by several hidden threads simultaneously, with cracks that could burst open at any moment.

The southeastern province was relatively stable, but it also began to be drawn into conflict.

Port nobles were wary of each other, and gold and grain prices were in chaos.

Calvin's merchant ships were subjected to various taxes abroad and audits under various pretexts at home, and even his own knightly order had to be diverted to support the capital.

The Duke looked at the map, his fingertips lightly tapping the mark of the capital.

"How many more days can the Regent hold on?" he whispered. "When he falls, the empire will probably collapse."

He knew that the order upon which the Calvin family relied was in grave danger.

If the second prince succeeds, military power will swallow up commercial power; if the fourth prince gains power, the Censorate will eliminate the nobility...

Whichever path they choose, the Calvin family will be cornered.

“The empire is on the verge of collapse,” Duke Calvin murmured. “And Calvin must find a foothold before the rubble falls.”

Just as he reached out to turn off the light, there were two knocks on the door.

"Enter."

A man pushed open the door and entered, bowed, and whispered, "Your Excellency, Master Edward has returned to his residence with his men."

The Duke looked up, the candlelight reflecting faintly in his pupils.

He gazed silently at the shadows cast by the doorway, his voice steady: "Is that so... I'll be right there."

…………

Selton Calvin sat at his desk in the Cabinet Room of Port Veroo, holding the secret letter in his hand.

The paper was slightly wrinkled from being gripped by sweat as he stared at the line of text: "Nine warships have arrived at port, their flag is Red Tide..."

The candlelight illuminated his face, revealing a gloomy expression.

Nine warships, nine capital ships.

Selton understood perfectly what this meant: Louis's Red Tide was no longer just a political appendage, but an economic power.

“The frozen soil of the North… has become a gold mine,” he murmured.

At that moment, Selton felt genuine anxiety for the first time.

The father's attention is shifting.

Louis, a younger brother who was abandoned, now wields power that makes even the imperial nobility uneasy.

Goods from the North flowed steadily into the South, and the Calvin family's caravans relied on Red Tide's cargo.

“If this drags on any longer, Father will only remember that good-for-nothing Louis by his name.”

Selton sneered, the image of his father's cold face flashing through his mind.

“Ever since Gaius disappeared, I thought that chair was mine for sure, but now…”

He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the mirror on the wall, where his shadow was stretched long and narrow in the candlelight. "Louis... a piece of trash who was discarded, yet he managed to stand up."

Selton recalled that he had invested eight thousand gold coins, five trade routes, and thirty knights to support Pal, only to have them all turn to worm corpses.

Louis brought back the entire North with only eight hundred gold coins.

The contrast made his heart ache.

"The empire's political situation was in such chaos, yet he was still able to build a fleet in the wasteland... What about me? I wouldn't even let my father see a single ship that I'm losing money on."

For the first time, Selton admitted that he was afraid.

"Perhaps... Father is already considering having him come back."

My thoughts drifted back to four years ago. That night, Louis set off for the North.

Selton remembered standing on the tower, watching the carriage emerge from the fog.

The knights he sent, carrying a vial of colorless poison, were ordered to cause an accident on their journey.

Unfortunately, he failed, but at the time he didn't think much of it, considering it just a casual move.

"I should have acted immediately then," he murmured, shaking his head with a wry smile. "I thought I was playing chess, but I had already made a huge mistake."

In the years that followed, Seldon sent out spies, merchants, apprentices, knights... but each time there was no response.

Just like those people were completely swallowed up by the red tide.

The family map on the wall hung silently, with the northern region marked with a deep red border by his own hand, labeled "Red Tide Territory".

Selton looked up at the color, his breathing becoming heavy: "Seamless... that place has become his kingdom."

"We must take back the throne." He gritted his teeth, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

He forced himself to calm down and reassess the situation.

Gaius is missing, his father is old, he controls 30% of the trade and port network, and Louis, though an earl, is in the North.

As long as his father does not publicly accept him, he remains the most qualified heir of the family.

“He can have the North, but Calvin’s throne can only be mine. But we have to find a way…” He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in his smile.

…………

Night fell over the capital, shrouded in a cold fog.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating the piles of account books and letters on the table.

The fourth prince, Rhine, was reviewing financial reports from his territory.

He wrote the last line of annotation, and just as he put down his pen, there was a light knock on the door.

"Come in."

A servant entered and presented a letter with both hands: "A personal letter from Lord Mace, the Chief Inspector."

Rhein broke the wax seal; the letter contained only one sentence:

"I will bring up the proposal Your Highness has put forward at the meeting when the time is right."

The candlelight illuminated a cold smile in Rhine's eyes.

"Indeed, the sound of gold coins is more effective than any oath."

Rhine whispered, "Mays... what a greedy rat."

"Karen, what do you think?" He turned his head and looked at the old man standing quietly behind him.

That's Karen Thor, the former commander of the Third Legion of the Empire.

Now they are the mentors and guards of the Rhine, a system established by the Emperor that required each prince to have a high-ranking imperial official as his mentor, such as Cypher of Asta.

“Mays is an opportunist,” the old man said calmly. “Give him benefits and he’ll side with you. But such people change their allegiance quickly.”

Karen looked up at Rhine, "Your Highness, you must hurry and stabilize the person before the Regent falls."

Rhine leaned back in his chair, his gaze indifferent. "I understand. It's just..."

He reached out and lifted the map of the empire on the table.

The candlelight illuminated a densely packed factional chart, marking the emblems of the eight major families and the directions of each branch.

“The capital city looks like this,” he said in a low voice, “like a tower that is quietly collapsing.”

Several lines of text were marked on the edge of the map:

Ministry of Finance: The two factions are in conflict, one still loyal to the regent, and the other leaning towards themselves;

The Ministry of Military Affairs: Completely controlled by the Second Prince;

The Overwatch Council: Originally neutral, it has now sided with the Rhine.

The Dragon Ancestor Church: It has become an empty shell under the suppression of successive emperors.

Rhine withdrew his gaze and said in a gentle tone, "Before an empire rots, it always has to maintain a respectable appearance. And as long as the Regent is alive, I have time to make my plans."

He did not live in the palace, nor did he often visit his ailing brother.

The regent was his elder brother from the same mother, and he was both the biggest obstacle and the biggest help on his path to the throne.

He hoped that his brother could hold on a little longer, allowing the empire's order to continue to feign stability, so that he could continue to accumulate power.

"How many of the eight major families are on our side now?" Rhine asked.

Karen replied, "There are three on the surface, but there are probably more behind the scenes."

He listed them one by one: "The Diaz family, through the Oversight Council, has clearly expressed its support for Your Highness."

The Simmons family has temporarily submitted, while the Carradine family, harboring resentment towards military power, will also remain on our side.

He paused, then continued, "The Calvin family outwardly leans towards the Second Prince, but their attitude is ambiguous. The old duke always bets on the final winner."

The Raymond family is a hard-line faction, always siding with the Ministry of Military Affairs.

The Holden family is on the verge of collapse, and Beres remains on the sidelines.

The Edmund family is now merely a shell of its former self; power in the North rests entirely in the hands of Earl Calvin.

Rhein tapped the table lightly with his fingertips and remained silent for a moment.

“That young count…” he said slowly, “was in his twenties and already controlled the largest province in the empire.”

Karen nodded slightly: "The Red Tide system is indeed highly efficient. Everything that can move is moved, and it doesn't rely on the face of the nobility to make a living."

Rhein chuckled lightly: "Winning him over might also bring the Calvin family along. But... that's just talk."

Karen calmly replied, "Don't forget, he's Calvin's son. Foxes in a fox den don't easily acknowledge their master."

Rhine folded up Metz's letter again and sealed it with sealing wax.

“A fox?” he said casually. “Then we’ll deal with it using the falcon method.”

Rhine stood up and instructed Karen, "Go and reply to Mace, saying that the funds will arrive tomorrow. Also, have the intelligence department investigate the movements of that Earl of the North."

Karen nodded slightly, turned and left, and the room returned to silence.

Rhine sat back in his chair, gazing at the map illuminated by candlelight.

The capital, the northern border, the southeastern harbor, and the border fortresses are all connected by lines, like a spreading net.

He murmured softly, "If the Regent can live for another three years, I might be able to ascend to that position."

“If I don’t live past three years…” He paused, his expression calm. “Then we’ll see who makes the first move.”

The wind blew in through the cracks, and the map of the empire trembled slightly in the breeze, as if foreshadowing the beginning of its collapse.

(End of this chapter)