Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 394 The Castle of the Red Tide

The early spring snow in the North was still heavy, and the convoy moved slowly, the wooden wheels making a muffled sound as they rolled over the frozen ground.

The southern merchant, Solton, pulled his cloak tighter, but still felt the chill to the bone.

He frowned, looking at the vast white expanse of the North, his tone full of disdain.

Along the way, he heard people say more than once that Lord Louis, the Lord of the Red Tide, was building the "most luxurious main castle in the North," which was even more extravagant than Silver Castle or the Holy Dragon Cathedral.

Every time Solton heard it, he thought it was a joke.

No matter how much a nouveau riche from the North tries to stir things up, can he really turn stones into a miracle?

"Old John, I really don't understand how you guys can stand this godforsaken place. Winters in the capital are a hundred times, a million times better than here." He snorted, then spoke as if deliberately showing off his knowledge.

"I've sat at banquets in Silver Castle and listened to sacred music at the Holy Dragon Cathedral. I've heard that your Red Tide Territory has built some new main castle. Tsk, in my opinion, it's just some country bumpkins piling up stones to make a show of it."

He gestured towards the distance, "The most luxurious place here, isn't it Duke Edmund's old fortress? That thing is nothing more than a larger stone cage. Your Lord Louis, no matter how rich... can he turn stone into gold?"

Old John listened, but just smiled and didn't refute.

…………

"My lord, wake up! We've arrived at Crimson Tide City!"

Solton, who had been dozing in the carriage, was now feeling drowsy from the jolting.

Upon hearing this, he frowned and groggily opened his eyes. Before he could even complain, he reached out and lifted the curtain.

The blinding light suddenly poured in, and he was jolted awake as if splashed with cold water, his mind instantly clearing up.

His complaints were stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.

The lights in the outer city are laid out in neat rows, as if they had been measured with a ruler.

But what truly silenced him was the main castle standing at the deepest part of the castle.

That wasn't the northern fortress he remembered—rough, gloomy, full of gray stone cracks.

Solton remained frozen in the car, head held high, motionless.

The first thing that catches the eye about the main castle is its overly complete shape.

There were no cracked rocks like those common in the North, and no moss covered in frost.

The entire building looks like a block of iron that was forcibly peeled off from the mountain, polished down to the point where not an inch of flaw can be found.

The outer wall has an oppressive inward curve, and looking up from below, it is as if one is being looked down upon by a sleeping behemoth.

The feeling of being enveloped made Thornton's knees tremble slightly in the wind.

Four towers rise from the spine-like structure of the main castle, their bronze domes glowing faintly red in the gloomy sky, like embers buried in iron.

The most eye-catching feature is the West Tower, which stands on a high slope.

Its sharp outline resembles a giant steel eagle with its wings folded, lying quietly at the edge of the snow line.

Solton had assumed that Red Tide City would be like other territories in the North, filled with rough stones and simple wooden beams.

But the closer he got, the more details he could see hidden behind the massive outline.
Runes flickered gently between the towers, as steady as breathing, and white steam billowing from the gaps drifted away from the blizzard, forming a thin, warm mist around the castle.

The massive, encased structures on the top of the wall only revealed a few metallic curves, resembling lurking skeletons.

These things made no sound, but Thornton inexplicably felt that they were watching him.

For the first time, he had the absurd thought that this place did not belong to mortals.

It wasn't out of piety, but out of an instinctive sense of submission.

He almost wanted to kneel down, like a mouse facing the shadow of a giant beast, too afraid to look up.

“This…this is a castle?” His throat was dry. “No…it’s like some kind of…”

He couldn't describe it; his gaze fell on the brass sun totem above the main entrance. It hung there quietly, yet seemed to be looking down on those who came.

“Old John…” Thornton managed to begin, “Who exactly is Lord Louis…?”

Old John did not answer immediately, but simply gazed at the city with a solemn expression.

“It is our sun,” he whispered.

…………

In late spring, the snow line in the North had just receded, but the sky had not yet truly cleared.

The air was filled with the fishy smell of moss and a damp, cold mist. This dampness was more unbearable than the dry, cold wind of winter, as if it were specifically designed to drill into one's joints.

For the old Northern nobles, this was still a dreaded season.

The cloak always gets muddy, the soles of the shoes are always slippery, and if you're not careful, rheumatism will creep onto your knees and back.

Mrs. Elena stood on the steps, habitually lifting her skirt. Even though the steps had been wiped clean, she still moved with instinctive caution.

She didn't come alone.

Not far ahead, Louis was holding his two-year-old daughter in his arms and holding the hand of his five-year-old son, Olsus, in his other hand, and was quietly comforting the little one not to run around.

Emily linked arms with him and held the hand of her eight-year-old brother Isaac with her other hand, as if taking two children out for a walk.

Sif, dressed in a close-fitting leather armor uniform, walked towards the back, her gaze casually but habitually sweeping over her surroundings, occasionally exchanging a knowing glance with Louis.

The family lined up in a row, looking especially warm and cozy in the muddy spring of the North.

Time has been kind to Mrs. Elena.

A few strands of silver hair had appeared at her temples, but she didn't look too tired.

But the harshness of the North always made her think one step ahead of others, whether it was mud and water or the castle standing not far in front of her.

It was a castle she had witnessed for over four years.

From the initial few sketches Louis laid out on the table, he said they would live together in the castle, since it was a large building.

From the first piece of cold iron beam standing in the mud and water, to today, with all the scaffolding removed, the main castle stands intact before our eyes.

It took four years and three months to complete.

During this period, Red Tide transformed from a nascent territory into a name that the entire Northern Territory could not ignore.

And this city, which was seen by others as a bunch of amateur projects, has been transformed into the largest architectural wonder in the North.

Will took the initiative to open and close the door. He took a deep breath, pulled hard with both hands, and the sound of gears meshing immediately echoed in the gatehouse.

Click, click, click…

The sound was deep, but not harsh; it was more like a sleeping giant slowly turning over.

The double-layered city gate, half a meter thick, closed under the pull of gears and chains.

The outer layer is made of cold iron, and the inner layer is sandwiched with cork and heat insulation board. The whole door is like a black wall, blocking out all the wind and moisture from the outside when it is closed.

The moment the last ray of light was swallowed up by the crack in the door, the noise outside seemed to be cut off.

The world quieted down.

Only the faint echo beneath my feet and the whisper of water slowly flowing through a pipe deep within the wall remained.

Elena subconsciously loosened her grip; before entering the room, she had been tightly clutching the hem of her skirt, afraid of accidentally getting it covered in mud. Now, she realized she had let go without even noticing.

She glanced down at her feet. The obsidian floor was spotless, without any mud, water, or even the dampness often seen in late spring.

The ground was slightly warm, and even through the soles of my shoes, I could feel an indescribable comfort.

"The geothermal pipes run around the clock, using shallow underground heat veins for circulation," Mike, who was walking ahead, couldn't help but explain, adding, "As long as the heat veins don't dry up, the whole city will be warm."

The head of the artisans' office, the chief architect of the city, stood ramrod straight, as if he were not walking, but leading the entire city to the lord to submit his work.

Even though he already held a high position in the Red Tide, and even in the entire Northern Territory, at this moment, his expression still betrayed an undeniable tension and excitement.

"Sir, Madam, this way please."

Mike took the lead and walked ahead, his steps as light as a primary school student preparing to receive an award.

Elena took a deep breath, trying to shift her attention away from the ground.

My sense of smell returned first.

The sticky, earthy smell outside had completely disappeared, replaced by dry, warm air, carrying a hint of pine incense and the fresh scent of tea.

For a moment, she even had the illusion that she had not entered the main castle in the North, but rather a small town in the south with a mild climate.

Elena watched Louis's retreating figure, her feelings quite complex.

She recalled those nights when she first came to Red Tide six years ago.

She had been widowed for a short time then, and holding her young son Isaac, she couldn't sleep soundly all night in the unfamiliar earthen castle of Chichao.

She feared that this outcast, abandoned by his family in the North, would turn against her; that he would use the guise of protection to devour the remnants of Edmund's family; that she, the duke's widow, was merely a pawn to be sacrificed at any moment. At that time, she was constantly on guard, observing every meeting and every decision he made, lest one wrong judgment lead to no return.

But now, through his actions, Louis has long since buried those old fears and wariness deep in his heart.

She hadn't woken up in the middle of the night in a long time.

Isaac excitedly told her, "What did my brother-in-law teach me today?"

Then, as the group continued forward, the view suddenly opened up around what should have been a dark inner corridor corner of the castle.

An entire exterior wall was completely opened up, and the transparent panels that stretched from the ground to the dome were dazzlingly bright.

Elena paused noticeably for half a second as she turned the corner.

This wasn't the kind of architecture she knew from the North; it felt like walking onto a suspended sky bridge.

Even though there was ground beneath my feet, I had a vague feeling that I was standing in mid-air.

“This is…” Elena took a soft breath.

Looking out from this long corridor, the entire Red Tide City unfolds beneath your feet, from the snow line in the distance to the streetlights nearby, all falling into your view without any obstruction.

The wind was shut out, and only the light clung quietly to the glass, making even breathing seem lighter.

Upon hearing Elena's words, Mike finally couldn't contain himself any longer, his whole body bursting with excitement: "Madam, this... this is the glass workshop's greatest achievement this year!"

His voice trembled as he spoke, “According to the rules of old-style castles, this should be a firing port and crenellations. We made it like this to ensure that no castle in the world can do it.”

Elena remained staring at the enormous glass window, her eyes etched with shock. She rarely lost her composure like this, but the sight was enough to leave one speechless.

"What about protection?" she finally asked.

This isn't nitpicking, but rather the instinct of a nobleman who has lived for years amidst the snow and war in the North.

Mike puffed out his chest as if he were being asked his best question: "Three-layer structure! The outermost layer is supported by cold iron, so even if a snow beast hits it, it won't crack."

The middle layer is made of newly refined crystal composite material, which can block crossbow bolts, and the innermost layer is our own Red Tide glass, which is frost-proof, shock-resistant, and not afraid of temperature differences.

Madam, you needn't worry, this is only the inner tower. The real defenses are on those cold iron towers in the outer ring, which have the best defensive measures in the entire North..."

The more he spoke, the louder his voice became, as if he wanted to express all the pride he had been holding back for the past few years at once.

Elena let out a soft breath, and the surprise in her heart slowly subsided.

Louis didn't interrupt, but simply stood behind Mike, casually and gently letting Mike talk on and on.

There were two small figures in front of the glass.

Orsus and Isaac.

Five-year-old Orsus is trying to stand on tiptoe and breathe on the glass.

Eight-year-old Isaac stretched out his arms, trying to draw a circle bigger than himself.

Their fingertips traced arcs on the glass, leaving brief fog marks that were quickly smoothed out by the heat.

After Isaac finished drawing, he habitually turned around and glanced at Louis.

There was no fear in his eyes, nor any cautious attempt to please; only a pure expectation, as if he were waiting for an evaluation: "Was my drawing alright?"

Louis did not scold them for "getting dirty" or adopt a stern, elder-like demeanor.

He casually took the toddler Sif handed him, held the two-year-old girl in his arms with one hand, and walked to the glass.

The child's breath hadn't completely cleared yet, so he reached out and took out a handkerchief. He gently wiped away the moisture that had clung to Isaac's nose, and then wiped away the fingerprints on the glass as well.

The movements were casual, like tidying up one's own table at a casual moment.

"Don't crowd around, be careful not to bump your head," he simply reminded them.

Isaac stuck out his tongue and obediently took half a step back.

After the brief interlude, when everyone continued their tour of the inner hall, Mike finally seized the opportunity to pull everyone to the bathroom in front of the master bedroom.

“Sir, there’s another clever little detail here,” he couldn’t help but say, glancing at Louis’s expression.

Louis chuckled and rubbed his temples. "Today isn't the Craftsmen's Conference. A few words will suffice."

Mike relaxed a little, walked to the dark wooden door, and pushed it open.

Inside was a spacious washroom with light-colored stone slabs on the walls and a warm floor.

He walked to the corner, grasped the exquisitely crafted brass handle, and gently twisted it.

"Om-"

With a very slight vibration, a stream of steaming hot water gushed out of the tap, landing in the stone basin and splashing up a circle of tiny droplets.

Steam rose slowly into the room, carrying a relaxing warmth.

"We use the underground geothermal exchange layer to heat the groundwater, and then pump it up through a pressure valve." Mike controlled himself to not get too excited as he spoke, "Sir, it's available 24/7, anytime."

Elena stepped forward and put her hand into the water.

The water temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold, like a stone slab that had just been exposed to the sun all day—a luxury in the North.

She couldn't help but think of the old castle in Frostspear City.

Even after renovations, mold always appears around the corners of the walls during this season. Servants have to carry buckets of water up to clean it, and by the time they get it in their hands, it's already cold before they can even warm it up.

Now, with a gentle twist, the entire underground of the city is working to keep the water flowing.

The group then ascended the spiral staircase to the top floor of the main castle.

The maids were already waiting at the door. Soft lights were lit inside the room, and freshly baked pastries and warm berry tea were laid out on the long table.

The air carries a faint sweet scent, which makes you feel like you've shed most of the day's fatigue as soon as you step inside.

Olsus was rubbing his eyes sleepily, being held in Sif's arms. Emily sat on the couch, casually picking up a pastry and stuffing it into her mouth, looking genuinely hungry.

Louis placed his youngest daughter on a cushion and had a maid look after her, then served everyone hot tea.

The children chattered excitedly around the snack plate, looking relaxed after a long time.

Only Isaac didn't join in the fun.

He stood in front of that huge glass window, his hands behind his back, looking down at the streetlights and the constantly moving carriages below, a sense of superiority unconsciously appearing on his small face.

Louis walked over and stood behind him: "Isaac."

"Ok?"

What do you think of this wall?

Isaac paused for a moment, subconsciously reached out and touched the glass, then immediately withdrew his hand: "It's hard, it's transparent, and... it must be very expensive."

Louis chuckled. "Many lords like to lock themselves inside thick stone walls. It's safe there; they can't see or hear anything outside."

He reached out and tapped the carpet at his feet, then pointed to the lights outside the glass.

"The stone wall can keep out assassins, and it can also keep out hungry people. Those inside cannot see the cold outside, and those outside cannot see what those inside are eating."

Isaac frowned thoughtfully: "Should we be different?"

Louis looked down and met his gaze: "You need to learn how to make this glass."

Isaac was stunned: "Make...glass?"

"Correct."

Louis tapped the glass lightly with his knuckles: "It needs to be hard enough to block out the cold and malice from outside, but also transparent enough so that the lives of everyone below can be seen in your eyes at any time."

He paused, his tone calm yet possessing an undeniable power: "Those lords who cannot see the people will ultimately be overthrown by them. Remember what I say today."

Isaac looked up at him and nodded emphatically: "I've got it."

Elena was slightly startled as she watched this scene.

This wasn't the first time she'd seen Louis teach Isaac; she understood that Louis was teaching the future lord how to defend a city and a group of people.

"When the Duke died, I thought Edmund had made a mistake by handing power over to this young man, and I felt that he would eventually reveal his true colors."

Six years later, he rebuilt Frostspear City, treating Isaac not as a puppet, but as a true member of the family, teaching him how to be a person and a lord like an older brother.

She picked up the teacup, her fingertips gently relaxing their grip.

Outside the window, the wind and snow swirled outside the city walls, and dark clouds pressed down on the sky, but inside, it was as warm as another world, filled with the aroma of tea, and the laughter of children still echoed in the corners.

“The nobles outside call him the Winter Tyrant,” she murmured to herself. “That’s because they don’t deserve to sit next to the warm sun.”

“He is a good lord, a reliable husband…” She paused, a slight smile playing on her lips, “and for me, more importantly, he is Isaac’s best brother-in-law and my best son-in-law.”

Elena finally showed a completely relaxed smile.

(End of this chapter)