Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 437 Fear and Belief

Bradley stopped at the door, gently pushed it open, took a step back, and gave a brief, restrained "please."

Varius went inside, and the door closed behind him, shutting out the sound of footsteps outside.

The air smelled of ink mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed hot coffee.

There was no damp wood smell like in the old aristocratic study, nor any deliberately created incense.

This place doesn't feel like a space to flaunt status; it's more like a workplace ready to keep running at any time.

Varius instinctively took two steps forward.

Three walls were completely covered by huge parchment maps.

The contour lines on the map mark the ridges and valleys layer by layer, the veins are meticulously outlined, and even the seasonal changes in flow velocity are marked along the rivers.

In the corners of certain areas, population density, food output, and labor force structure are recorded in tiny handwriting.

The red lines extend from the various provinces, running through the map like blood vessels.

Blue lines intersect within, marking the water conservancy and geothermal pipeline networks.

All the lines eventually point to the same red dot—Red Tide City.

Varius stood still, without moving.

He suddenly had a clear illusion that he had not walked into a room, but into the interior of a huge and sophisticated instrument.

And this room is the brain of that machine.

Just then, he noticed the wall on the other side. It wasn't a solid wall, but a huge pane of glass.

Through the glass, you can look down at the city below.

The lights spread out in the polar night, and the streets resembled orderly bundles of nerves.

Crowds moved, convoys passed, patrolling riders and workers pushing carts gave way to each other, everything proceeded in a predetermined rhythm.

There was neither noise nor stagnation.

Varius's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

This is the true heart of the Red Tide, the place that created the New North and ultimately conquered the entire Gray Rock Province.

Louis stood in front of the map in the center, with his back to the door.

It was a "Map of the Entire Northern Territory" that covered the entire wall.

His shirt sleeves were casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing his strong and well-defined wrists.

Holding a red pen in his hand, the tip landed steadily at the junction of the Gray Rock Province and the Red Tide Territory.

He drew a new line, as if adding the final, definitive trace to a concept that had already taken shape.

This is the third railway, an artery that completely integrates limestone into the red tide system.

Louis didn't turn around, but he knew someone had come in.

“Lord Varius,” he paused, his tone tinged with apology, “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

"I've been so busy until now that I finally had time to see you. I've seen the draft amendments to the Civil Code that Viktor submitted." He put the red pen aside and said casually, "The supplementary clauses to Article 7 are very precise."

Varius took two steps forward and stopped in front of a long table.

He straightened his clothes and performed an ancient and restrained greeting.

That was not a polite greeting between nobles, nor a subject kneeling before a monarch, but a gesture of respect used only between scholars and true sages.

“My lord,” Varius’s voice was low, yet filled with barely suppressed excitement, “those legal provisions are nothing more than the work of a tinkerer, not worth mentioning.”

What truly kept me up all night was everything I'd seen in your city these past few days.

He looked up, his gaze fixed on Louis: "I saw an honest baker, miners queuing up to wash their hands, and children with light in their eyes."

In the old empire, such order existed only in the pages of saints' books.

Varius's speech quickened, as if seeking an answer: "I don't understand, how did you do it? Was it because your noble character influenced them?"

Or was it your tireless preaching of morality and honor that cleansed their originally barbaric souls?

His eyes were almost fanatical, and this wasn't just empty flattery; it was the result of the answers he had gained along the way and in the few days since arriving at Red Tide.

In that instant, he even forgot about his identity and the distance between them, wanting only to confirm one thing...

Is this young lord before him the kind of moral saint he has been searching for all his life?

Louis did not answer immediately, and a brief silence filled the room.

Then, as if he had heard something slightly amusing, he shook his head slightly.

Louis turned around and casually tossed the red pen onto the table with a "thud."

Those deep eyes gazed calmly at Varius, without a trace of pleasure at being praised.

“Viscount Varius.” His tone was light, but crisp and decisive. “They are disciplined, honest, and polite, perhaps because I taught them morality, but I don’t think that’s the main reason.”

Louis walked to the table and picked up a piece of bread for a late-night snack.

He didn't eat it; he just held the piece of bread up in the air.

“Just because…” he paused, “I fed them.”

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, and Varius was clearly stunned.

This answer was different from any of the explanations he had expected, leaving him momentarily unable to process the information.

"Courtesy is a flower that grows on a wheat stalk. When a person is so hungry that their stomach cramps and their child is crying in their arms, honor, law, and virtue are all worthless pieces of paper."

Even the most devout believer would turn into a beast for half a piece of moldy bread.

This is a biological instinct for survival, and even God cannot change it.

He walked back to the huge map, his finger slowly tracing the vast and fragmented territory of the old empire.

"When resources for survival are depleted, any moralizing will seem pale and ridiculous."

Louis turned around abruptly, his gaze sharp as a blade: "So the first thing I did was not to build a church or a courthouse."

Instead, they focused on growing crops, repairing heating systems, mining, and producing fertilizers... prioritizing the right to survival.

It allows people to live like human beings, without having to fight each other for survival.

When that time comes, they will naturally abide by human rules.

He paused, looking at Varius: "Those virtues you praise."

It's merely an ornament that naturally emerged after productivity overflowed.

Varius did not respond immediately, but subconsciously raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.

This explanation made him uncomfortable. It wasn't entirely wrong, but it was chillingly cold, like a sharp blade without a handle.

He instinctively wanted to refute it, but couldn't find a point of entry that could refute it from a holistic perspective.

“I admit that survival is fundamental.” After a moment of thought, Varius finally spoke, his voice lower but still firm.

“But well-fed sheep are often harder to manage; they become greedy and want more.”

After calming down, Varius raised his head and refocused his gaze on Louis.

"You not only feed them, but you also keep them in awe and obedience to you even without the oppression of an army. Why is that?"

He paused for a moment, then unconsciously retreated to his familiar territory.

"Or is it because of your birth? The son of the Duke of Calvin... noble blood, which in itself carries a natural legitimacy."

Louis smiled, a faint smile, but with a hint of mockery.

He turned and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, pointing out at the dark wasteland.

“Bloodline?” Louis looked at Varius.

"If I threw myself into the wolf pack in that snowy plain right now, do you think they would spare me because of my noble lineage?"

He turned around and gave a conclusion without any embellishment.

“They obeyed me not out of love,” Louis paused, “but because they were forced by fear to make a choice.”

Varius's brow was still furrowed, but it was no longer the shock of being offended, but rather an attempt to understand.

Louis didn't stop, continuing as if patiently dissecting a past event that had been repeatedly rehearsed:
"Imagine what this land was like before Red Tide City existed."

There were no large towns, only scattered villages, isolated from one another. When winter came, the roads were blocked, the granaries were empty, and the lords, preoccupied with their own survival, could only guard their own manors; the common people's fate was left to chance.

“When ordinary people venture into the wilderness, they must first be wary of magical beasts.” He paused, his tone not exaggerated, “but what is truly deadly is often not them.”

Instead, it was another group of people who were equally hungry and desperate. In order to survive, they would rob, kill, and treat strangers as threats or even food.

But that wasn't evil; it was just instinct when pushed to the limit. This was the true state of affairs in the North before the Red Tide appeared.

In that state, life is lonely, impoverished, vile, cruel, and short.

Louis slowly clenched his fist, but didn't raise it as high as before, and his tone softened as well.

"It was out of fear, out of fear of freezing to death, starving to death, or being eaten by their own kind, that these people finally realized that if things continued like this, no one would live long."

His gaze was steady and clear.

"So they made a rational choice; they were willing to give up some of their freedom, pay taxes... in exchange for order."

Louis let out a soft breath: "They chose order, and I was just the one who happened to step forward and keep my promises time and time again."

When they discovered that what they had surrendered truly brought them security, food, and dignity, their fear gradually receded.

“In its place is faith.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And gratitude.”

“They are afraid of losing me because they feel that once I fall, the city may fall apart and they will be thrown back into that wasteland where they have to rely on knives and luck to survive.”

"That's why they cherish everything they have now, why they are willing to obey orders, maintain order, and contribute to this city."

Louis lowered his eyelids slightly, his tone very firm: "I know their feelings, and I know that this trust and gratitude is earned by fulfilling promises time and time again. That's why I can't let them down."

Varius's pupils contracted slightly; this was the first time he had heard such a statement.

He wanted to refute it, but found that he couldn't find a single truly valid flaw.

Louis turned around, leaning against the huge glass window.

The city lights spread out behind him, and the streets, workshops, patrolling knights, and still-operating factories together formed a silent yet powerful picture, as if the entire Red Tide stood behind him.

"So you need to understand one thing: the power I hold is neither a gift from God nor left to me by my father."

Instead, it was the two hundred thousand Red Tide people in Red Tide City, along with the millions of people in the Northern Territory and Grayrock Province who were willing to choose order, who were temporarily handed over to me.

This is a trust, a transaction, an unseen yet real contract.

The reason we were able to reach this agreement is because they believe that I keep my word.

I promised safety, so I built cities, established an army, and cleared the wasteland; I promised survival, so I built heating, expanded food supplies, and ensured we could get through the winter.

If we promised that people would not be trampled on at will, then let the rules apply to everyone.

I kept my promise, which is why they were willing to stake their future on me.

He didn't shy away from reality, adding frankly, "Of course, they don't have many choices, but that's precisely why their choices are so important."

Louis turned his gaze back to Varius: "They give me obedience, taxes, and labor, while I give them security, the certainty of survival."

And a future where they won't be thrown back into the abyss when the snow is at its deepest.

This is a contract that neither party dares to easily break.

Varius remained silent for a moment, no longer trying to refute or understand the logic behind it.

“Since it’s a contract, there must be a breach of contract.” Louis’s tone turned cold. “The Second Prince treats power as his private property, only knowing how to take, but refusing to take on the responsibility of protecting it.”

When rulers demand only taxes, service, and obedience, but no longer provide guarantees of security and survival...

This is no longer domination, but a unilateral breach of contract.

Louis raised his eyes, his gaze icy: "So his demise is a reckoning that was bound to come sooner or later."

Varius's legs buckled, and he almost lost his balance.

In the context of the empire, this was the most vicious heresy of all doctrines.

Because it denies all the premises he had been repeatedly taught...

Power was not bestowed upon the emperor by the gods, and then distributed to his subjects by the emperor.

Instead, it is formed from the bottom up by countless people who yearn to survive, and then temporarily entrusted to a strong person who can bear the consequences.

This means that imperial power is no longer a sacred gift, but a mandate that can be revoked at any time.

This means that loyalty is not an obligation, but a result of conditions being met.

In the imperial legal system, this was tantamount to shaking the foundations of the throne, an idea that any priest or judge would not hesitate to condemn as blasphemous.

Yet, precisely because of Lewis's calm and coherent reasoning, it appears exceptionally reasonable and self-consistent.

Varius looked at the young man before him as if he were watching someone who had thrown a crown into a furnace and was trying to reforge the very rules of governance.

Louis composed himself, picked up the red pen again, and his tone returned to its previous calm.

"So I'm not worried about them rebelling. As long as they still have meat in their bowls, the city is as solid as an iron wall."

Compared to vague notions of loyalty to the emperor and patriotism, a contractual alliance based on shared interests is the most solid relationship in the world.

(End of this chapter)