King of the North: My Lord's Diary Weekly Summary

The Icemark River is about fifty meters wide here, flowing from northeast to southwest with rapid currents.

On its opposite bank are the steep Tuwu Mountains, with almost an entire side of forest growing on the windward slope of the western side of the mountains.

"there……"

Wayne pointed to the mountains: "Isn't that the border of Baron Ethan's Blackbird Territory?"

Among the attendants following behind, a young maid with golden hair stepped forward—her name was Mia, and she was someone Wayne had specifically brought along.

Before coming to the North, she had worked as a maid in the household of a border baron for three years, and had some knowledge of the Northern noble circles.

"Yes, sir."

Mia’s voice was light: “Baron Ethan Black Raven is in the valley over there on the other side of the mountains.”

It is said that he completely controlled the area in just three months and obtained the naming rights to the territory, "Blackbird Territory."

"Completely under control in three months..."

Wayne squinted.

"Rumor has it that he is very ruthless."

Mia added, "They used many less-than-honorable methods to clear out Indigenous people and rivals."

But some say he's just efficient, and the North needs ruthless people like him.

Wayne nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

Everyone has their own way of surviving: Baron Ethan chose rapid, ruthless expansion, while he chose a steady, methodical approach.

Time will tell which is better and which is worse.

Wayne believes that in the not-too-distant future, he will also be able to name this territory that belongs to him.

He will have a castle, standing on that cliff, overlooking his own rivers and plains—of course, he'll have to get rid of those "residents" first.

He will have his own army, his own workshops, and his own mines.

He will make the name "Wayne Lancaster" truly take root in the North.

He will have a stable and happy new life where he can control his own destiny.

Most definitely.

……

As the sun set, Wayne returned to the southeast woodland outpost—which should probably be called the "temporary camp" now.

The changes are significant.

In what was originally a clearing in the woods, a dozen or so simple wooden sheds have been erected, with the roofs covered with branches and dry grass.

That should be enough for the villagers to get through their first night—if it doesn't rain heavily.

Further away, under Hank's guidance, the villagers are building a sturdier roof frame using logs.

These will serve as temporary housing for the villagers for a few days, and will also become future timber warehouses.

The sounds of logging, hammering, and voices mingled together, creating a lively and bustling atmosphere.

Wright has returned and is building an earthen stove in the open space next to the watchtower with several servants.

"grown ups."

Upon seeing Wayne return, Wright stepped forward to report: "We have found a suitable place to use as our own camp."

The soil there is relatively fertile, it is close to water sources, and it is easy to defend.

In addition, we also discovered grasslands in the southwest with signs of biological activity.

The exact locations of both sites have been marked on the map.

"Thank you for your hard work. I'll watch it when I get back tonight."

Wayne glanced at the darkening sky, then looked south—where a village was marked on the map, occupying the riverside plain.

That area, consisting of farmland and residential areas, occupied a full four squares in its own southeast nine-square grid.

Each grid represents an area of ​​nearly six square kilometers—the size of nearly twenty residential communities in my previous life.

This will be the lifeline of his territory, which he needs to hold firmly in his grasp from the very beginning of its development.

His purpose on his first trip was to gauge public opinion and to practically assess the potential and output value of that area.

And for the next job, the most suitable person... is Hank.

As a veteran who previously served as acting cook and logistics captain in the team, he was capable of discerning the village's development status and the potential of its arable land.

In addition, he had served as a logistics soldier and a grain storage soldier, and in terms of grain management, he was even better than those professional chefs.

"Hank."

"grown ups."

The veteran seemed to have been preparing nearby, and immediately jogged over after hearing the order.

"Take three people with you and come with me to the village."

Wayne mounted his horse: "Ronald too. Wright, the camp is yours, keep watch."

"Yes."

Six people on six horses, trudging through the fading snow, headed southeast along a forest path.

The village was closer than expected. In just twenty minutes, a cluster of low wooden houses came into view.

The scale wasn't large; based on his experience traveling along the way, Wayne had an estimate—it looked to be about twenty or thirty households.

The houses are simple, mostly built of logs and mud, with roofs weighed down by thick straw mats and snow.

There are no proper roads in the village, only a few well-trodden paths.

It was evening, a time when people should be cooking and going home after work.

But the villagers were unusually busy.

The men carried bundles of harvested hay on their backs and strode toward the granary in the center of the village; the women squatted in front of their houses, crushing some kind of dry, hard beans with simple tools; and a few elderly people and children were drying wild vegetables in the yard.

Everyone was moving, their hands and feet were constantly in motion, and their expressions were tense.

When Wayne's fully armed cavalry appeared at the village entrance, everyone paused for a moment.

The villagers looked up at Wayne on horseback.

The firelight in the village illuminated the rough, weathered faces.

Their eyes were incredibly complex—there was trepidation, fear, and even a sliver of...hope?

Wien could understand this contradiction.

"Your initial purchase details, origin, and profile will also be circulated among the people of the North to help them make a judgment."

As for serfs, we generally advise obtaining them locally—after all, the population of the North is not large, and sometimes even barons and viscounts acquire slaves through conquest.

Simon Quinto’s words from a few days ago at the Duke’s estate still seemed to echo in my ears—his words reflected the typical plight of the Northern natives, and how it got worse the further north they went.

During the five-day journey, Wayne would rehearse each day the different scenarios he would encounter upon arriving here, as well as the possible consequences of his various actions.

These southeastern villagers, along with the sentries of the four watchtowers, the Wolf Barbarian tribe belonging to the kingdom's ethnic minorities in the northeast, and the local forces of the northwestern forest bandits, were naturally the focus of his thoughts these past few days.

It's almost September now, a crucial time for their autumn harvest—a time that determines whether most of them will see the next spring.

They are definitely worried that they might jeopardize their survival, and that will be their bottom line.

Secondly, their arrival—including the salt and ironware they purchased—and whether it could bring them a better life, was something they valued and a very good asset in their initial contact with them.

Survival, life...

Maybe we'll only get to be free at the very end.