Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 377 Another Spring
The small town in the western border of the empire was swallowed by night, and the streets were so quiet that only the sound of patrolling knights' boots could be heard.

No one would have guessed that the Emerald Federation's Azure Tide Guild had hidden the Empire's most secret liaison office in this remote town.

A pyrography lamp hung above the desk, its flickering light illuminating the mountain of ledgers and encrypted files.

Selna Grovel sat behind his desk, flipping through the latest intelligence from the capital, the spiral badge on his chest gleaming dark gold in the dim light.

A series of hurried footsteps and knocking sounds came from outside the door.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and Leighton Fromm entered, his steps hurried, draped in a cloak covered in frost.

Cerna looked up at him, somewhat surprised, and said, "It seems there's been a problem with your mission."

Layton swallowed hard: "The North... has been exposed."

“Expose?” Selna’s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly as he leaned back in his chair. “I asked you to bring intelligence, not to cause trouble.”

Layton smiled wryly and took a letter from his pocket, the seal bearing a gold and red sun emblem. It was the symbol of the Red Tide of the North.

Selna didn't reach out, but coldly said, "Speak."

Layton took a deep breath: "Louis Calvin, the Lord of the Red Tide, met with me personally. He said the Red Tide doesn't kill spies, they only do business. Then he asked me to bring this letter back to you."

Selna was silent for a moment, then finally reached out and took the letter.

The letter unfolded, and its contents did not resemble a threat but rather a formal trade proposal. The words in the letter were not aggressive but rather a very sincere invitation for the Azure Tide Guild to do business with the Red Tide Guild, specifying that they would exchange ores, fuels, leather, and cold iron for salt crystals, grains, wine, and alchemy raw materials.

The final sentence reads: "Red Tide does not oppose guests from the Federation, but only hopes that the Federation will learn to respect the rules of the North."

As the alchemy lamp dimmed, the air in the room seemed to freeze.

Layton lowered his head, cold sweat trickling down his temples, and even his breathing became lighter.

Cerna did not speak immediately, but tapped the edge of the letter lightly with the back of his fingers, his gaze calm.

“In other words,” he said slowly, “he saw through your identity and exposed our base, but neither killed you nor confiscated the goods, only asked you to bring this letter back?”

Layton nodded with difficulty: "Yes, sir. He... was very calm, as if he had been waiting for me all along."

Selna glanced at him but did not reprimand him. He then looked up at the map of the empire on the wall.

On that snowy northern plain, which he had originally regarded as a desolate buffer zone, he personally circled a name in red ink six months ago—Louis Calvin.

This name has been frequently heard in my ears in recent years.

A discarded son, abandoned by his family as a waste and sent to explore the northern frontier, who should have rotted in the frozen ground with a bunch of unfortunate nobles, ended up fighting several wars in just a few years.

They played a crucial role in the eradication of the Snowsworn, and in the Plague of Insects and the War of the Burial Grounds, they directly pulled half of the North back from the abyss.

She married into the Edmund family and then took over their military power and territory after the Duke of Edmund's death.

The intelligence officer had only one comment on this: "There is now only one voice in the North, and that is Louis Calvin."

Cerna unfolded the letter again and read it carefully.

The letter contained no threats, no nonsense, but simply a calm outline of a framework for cooperation.

Red Tide can provide a long-term and stable supply of rare minerals from the North, such as Cold Iron and Magic Marrow, in exchange for which the Azure Tide Guild provides salt crystals, cold ore, gold coins, and alchemy potion raw materials.

It includes winter storage and transportation subsidies, tiered pricing for goods, and details on default and delayed payments. Each clause is numbered, and every profit estimate is calculated to the point that even the culprit cannot find fault with it.

Cerna did a rough calculation and it was indeed a clean and good deal.

But he wasn't blinded by the numbers; he simply turned to the side and asked, "Tell me again about the current situation in the North."

Layton immediately composed himself and quickly reported in a low voice: "Within the Red Tide territory, grain prices have remained unchanged for three seasons, with an orderly increase; the Red Tide system is being promoted to surrounding territories, and more than half of the nobles in the North have joined."

The workshops operated day and night, with a constant flow of goods between Dawn Harbor and the inland routes. While the rest of the Empire was in chaos, only there were goods being piled up.

These are basic information about Red Tide; there are no secrets involved, and any ordinary merchant in Red Tide could obtain them.

Selna listened quietly, nodded, and didn't press Layton further, having already made his own judgment.

"He understands governance and people's hearts. He can turn wasteland into territory and knows when to offer a way out, turning enemies into business partners."

He was both a ruler and a businessman.

Once such a person truly establishes himself, even if the other party doesn't take the initiative, the Emerald Federation will have to proactively redraw a trade route in the North.

Cerna leaned back in his chair, his thoughts gradually calming down. He reorganized his logic and made a judgment step by step in his mind.

The North has been plagued by war for years and doesn't even have a port, making it unworthy of investment. But if Louis can truly maintain a steady flow of goods, he will become the North's goldmine.

Internal strife within the royal family, the observation of the old nobility, the split of the alliance of the new elites, and the various guilds harboring their own agendas, with some even radically wanting to directly intervene in the struggle for the crown prince.

The Bichao Guild has not invested much in the Empire, nor does it want to disrupt the Empire; it simply wants a stable environment to do business.

If there was indeed a rift between the Calvin family and Louis, then this letter would be the best evidence that the Red Tide needed a new foundation to break away from the old system.

The North is rich in rare and high-quality minerals, some of which are difficult for even the Federation to mine.

If a stable supply can be obtained through the Red Tide, the guild can not only suppress the Ash Guild, but also establish an independent commercial line.

Rejection may lead to future exclusion, while cooperation immediately opens up another path.

“Investment? No, it’s business. We want the ore, and he wants prosperity.” He murmured to himself, “It’s a match made in heaven.”

Selna bent down again and wrote the order on the document: "Approval for contact with Red Tide. Leiden shall maintain contact and send a trade envoy to establish a post station in Red Tide under the name of the Cold Salt Caravan. Trade shall be limited to minerals and alchemical materials, and shall not involve military supplies or intelligence."

Finally, he left a short comment on the document: "Louis Calvin, the King in the North who deserves to be taken seriously."

…………

The first rays of sunlight illuminate the domed buildings of Chichao's main city, and the city bells toll, signifying the start of the festival.

Breakfast was laid out on the table inside the Smith family’s house: freshly baked rye bread, hot milk, and a stew.

Smith was holding a bowl, smiling as he watched his daughter smear honey all over her hands.

“Today is the start of the Spring Festival,” Mary said with a smile, wiping her daughter’s mouth. “After we finish eating, we’ll go to the square to watch the shows.”

Ini was so excited she could barely hold her spoon: "Really? Can we still get stamps? Can we still eat sugar cakes?"

“Of course,” Smith said with a smile, ruffling her hair.

Mary looked at the morning mist rising outside the window; this morning felt like a dream.

There was no hunger, no fear, only a steaming hot breakfast and children waiting to play.

Mary finished tidying up the dishes, pushed open the door, and her breath dispersed in the morning light.

She was wearing a thick coat, holding her husband Smith's hand, while her daughter Enni ran ahead, laughing and waving the attendance card she had received from school.

"Slow down, don't fall!" Mary shouted, her voice drowned out by the laughter of the crowd.

On the street, the steam from the bread stalls mingled with the aroma of fish, and vendors called out: "Grilled fish, three copper coins! Honey water, special price today!"

Children lined up to get their stamps, and the workshop's whistle occasionally sounded in the distance, as if accompanying the festival.

Smith smiled and took his wife's hand. "Remember the winters of Frosthorn? Back then, we couldn't even afford bread." Mary nodded, her eyes softening. "Things are different now."

They stopped at South Market Square, bought a skewer of grilled fish, and then watched the iron forging at the craftsman's stall.

Sparks flew, and the sound of hammers clanging together was as rhythmic as a piece of music.

Enee watched with wide eyes as the blacksmith pulled the festival medal out of the mold and handed it to her, jumping up with joy.

The square was bustling with people in the afternoon, with stalls lined up one after another.

Mary saw the children playing ring toss and tossing coins, and the little wooden puppets they won were being held high in the air.

It was a wooden stall, the rings were made of hemp rope, and the owner was a short, old craftsman with a gray beard. When he saw Ini, he smiled and teased, "Little girl, want one?"

Eileen nodded excitedly, and Smith took out ten iron coins and handed them to the shopkeeper.

Ini held the hoop high, her tongue slightly sticking out, and carefully aimed at the rag doll in the red dress.

The circle flew out, spun once in the air, and landed steadily.

"You've got it!" the old craftsman laughed heartily. "This child has talent; it must be a stroke of luck bestowed by God!"

Smith took the doll and casually asked, "How's business lately?"

The old craftsman wiped the sweat from his brow: "Not bad. Everyone has more money these past few years, and the children are willing to spend it during festivals. We should thank Lord Louis."

Smith then added, "Thank you, Lord Louis."

Mary smiled and nodded.

The sunlight illuminated the crowd: blacksmiths, fishermen, merchants, soldiers...

The people of Red Tide City were all laughing, their laughter warm and genuine. Although snow was still falling, everything felt cozy and warm.

Mary looked at the crowd and suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

She remembered that when she was the daughter of a middle-class merchant in Frostspear City, life was not as stable as outsiders imagined. She would even go hungry in winter. Her life was a little better after marrying her husband, the captain of the knights, but there was still a lack of supplies.

And thinking back to the fear she felt when she first heard about the migration to the Red Tide, Mary smiled gently; her worries back then now seemed ridiculous.

She once thought this wasteland was only filled with snow and death, but now it has become her warmest home.

Now she has her own home in Red Tide, a two-story domed house with a warm fireplace and underground heat pipes running all night.

The house had a granary, a fireplace, and gold coins stored in wooden chests.

She understood that true wealth wasn't about having piles of gold and silver, but about not having to worry about food tomorrow.

Mary works part-time as a deacon at the orphanage, where she keeps accounts and distributes rations.

Because she was literate and knew arithmetic, she was called Miss Mary and her monthly salary was two silver coins.

Although her husband Smith is still stationed on the outer defense line, he can return to the city for two months every year, and those two months are the most reassuring time for her in a year.

Her daughter, Ini, is now six years old and attends Red Tide School.

Although she can't write very well yet and can only do arithmetic up to ten, she excitedly reads the notices posted on the wall to Mary every day.

Mary whispered to Smith, "I never imagined we'd have this kind of life."

Smith grinned: "It's all thanks to Lord Louis."

Mary nodded but didn't respond. She just looked at her daughter's excited smile and thought to herself that this was the real spring.

The afternoon festival activities had just begun, and the family of three enjoyed themselves while eating.

Laughter from the puppet theater on the street corner drifted over as young artisans dressed as monsters ran amok in the parade.

There's a little obstacle course set up on the street where children have to cross a suspension bridge, crawl through a wooden barrel, and finally ring a bell to get candy.

Inie rushed ahead, but ended up falling off the suspension bridge, making Mary laugh until tears streamed down her face.

They also watched performers blow on fire and paint lanterns at the makeshift stalls...

As dusk fell and the bells rang, Mary took her daughter's hand and said to Smith, "Let's go, it's time to go to the square."

As the crowds grew larger, the air was filled with laughter and the aroma of wine.

"I heard that Lord Louis is going to give a speech tonight," someone nearby said excitedly.

Smith was taken aback, then laughed: "That's a rare sight. The last time I saw him was when he was traveling last year."

Ini, holding Mary's hand, asked with sparkling eyes, "Mommy, will I be able to see Lord Louis later?"

“Of course you can.” Mary smiled and knelt down to tie her daughter’s scarf tightly. “But you have to be good and not run around.”

They followed the crowd into the center of the square, where the pillars of fire had not yet been lit and the flags around them fluttered in the wind.

The crowd was dense, almost shoulder to shoulder, with children held in adults' arms to prevent them from being separated.

"I haven't seen so many people gathered together in years," Smith remarked, looking up at the flags around him.

Mary was being jostled back by the crowd, but she couldn't help but smile and nod, feeling a sense of anticipation.

That lord might say something.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out from the side: "Mrs. Mary?"

She turned around and saw Pete, the supplies officer, the young official who often brought food and coal to the orphanage. He was carrying a bag of snacks and had his usual smile on his face.

“Mr. Pete! What a coincidence.” Mary was somewhat surprised.

"Yes, I'm here to help maintain order," he said with a joking laugh.

Smith smiled and nodded, "Thank you for your hard work tonight."

Pete waved his hand: "No, it's what we should do."

As soon as the words were spoken, the pillar of fire was lit to the sound of horns, and the flames rose up, illuminating the entire Lieyang Square.

The clamor of the crowd instantly turned into a roar: "Lord Louis!"

The lights on the platform came on, cutting through the snow and mist, and the figure stepped forward from the firelight.

He was not wearing golden armor, nor was he surrounded by attendants; he was only wearing a crimson cloak.

The young lord remained calm as he surveyed the crowd with gentle eyes. When he raised his hand, the bustling square fell silent.

The children looked up, the adults held their breath, the soldiers put down their wine glasses, and even the sound of the wind seemed to lessen.

Mary looked at Louis on the stage and felt a strange warmth in her heart.

At this moment, all the lights seemed to converge on this young lord.

Mary suddenly understood why people always said, "The ruler of the Red Tide is like the sun."

(End of this chapter)