Free Web NovelThe howling north wind, carrying unmelted ice and snow, swept across the vast plains, striking the advancing procession like a knife, cutting at their faces.
Pal pulled his cloak tighter and clicked his tongue, "Can this really be called 'spring'? I haven't even seen a single blade of grass."
He rode a tall horse, his red and black cape embroidered with a gold-threaded emblem, making him particularly conspicuous.
Even in this northern wilderness, he still maintained the air of a "young noble out for a stroll."
Not far behind him, Willis lowered his head, tightened his black cloak, and rode silently.
His gaze constantly patrolled ahead and around, observing changes in terrain, landscape, climate, and marching speed, even occasionally noting collapsed outposts and animal tracks along the way.
Pal had never initiative spoken more than a few words to him; in fact, he looked down on this "illegitimate son."
Willis also had no intention of speaking to him; although they were brothers, they were not very familiar with each other, and traveling together was merely for mutual support.
Frost Halberd City finally appeared at the end of the snowfield.
The city walls were towering and majestic, built from rough yet substantial stone, their weathered surfaces bearing the scars of past battles, as if ready to raise banners and repel enemies at any moment.
Two banners hung high on either side of the city gate, flapping in the wind and snow. Though slightly faded, the silver eagle emblem of Frost Halberd City was still discernible.
Above the gate tower, guards stood with halberds, their armor gleaming with a steely-gray luster in the cold light, their eyes vigilant.
As they approached, a guard shouted, "Halt! Who goes there?"
Pal casually brushed snow from his cloak and called out, "People of the Calvin Family. Pal Calvin, and this beside me is Wei Lisi Kaerwen, both frontier lords enfeoffed by the Empire."
The guard scrutinized both men, his expression not daring to slacken. Upon hearing the name "Calvin," his gaze immediately became serious, and he turned to report inside.
Soon after, a response came from the gate tower: "Permission to pass. Guests of the Calvin Family, please enter."
The heavy iron gate slowly opened, emitting a low, grinding metallic sound.
The guard nodded to the two, signaling them to enter the city.
As Pal rode in, he muttered, "At least the gate looks decent. Who knows what horror it'll be like inside."
Immediately upon entering, a middle-aged official in a heavy cloak quickly approached.
He bowed slightly before them, his tone concise: "I am an aide sent by Duke Edmund. Please follow me to the Governor's Mansion; Duke Edmund has been informed of your arrival."
The two nodded and followed him, taking the opportunity to observe their surroundings.
The streets of Frost Halberd City were muddy, snow and sewage mixed together. Horse hooves sank with a "gloop" sound, as if stepping into unmelted ice and bloodstains.
But unlike the chaotic and filthy impression of a slum, there were almost no idle commoners on these streets.
Instead, soldiers and knights were seen everywhere.
They wore armor and helmets, their expressions stern, their steps uniform. When they occasionally brushed past each other, they would subtly reach for the hilt of their swords.
Most of the city's buildings were constructed of stone, with a rough and simple style. The stone walls were mottled and covered with frost marks, like an old soldier's scars.
The wood was mostly weathered, and doors and windows were nailed with iron plates or thick iron nails. Many roofs had collapsed.
They were temporarily supported by wooden planks and leather, with undried snow and frost still clinging to them in the cold wind.
These houses were clearly not built for "living," but for "holding on."
Street watchtowers stood tall and silent, some slightly tilted, yet still standing like mountains in the wind and snow.
There were no hawkers, no cooking smoke, no children chasing and playing.
Frost Halberd City had no "urban" feel of life. It was more like a sleeping suit of armor, not great in appearance, but able to withstand enemy attacks.
"Hmph, this isn't a city; it's clearly a front-line fortress."
Pal muttered softly, his tone unable to hide the disdain typical of a young noble.
He glanced at Willis beside him, seemingly waiting for an echoing response.
But Willis did not respond.
He merely gazed silently at the city before him, the street, and the silently moving soldiers.
A fleeting solemnity crossed his eyes, as if he finally understood something.
This was not desolation, but the scars of war.
There was no chaos here, only a nearly ruthless order, a calm that could only be maintained through sacrifice and suppression.
Willis lowered his head, tightened his cloak, and his gaze dropped slightly.
This journey should not have been taken lightly, but now it seemed he had underestimated the weight of this land.
Of course, he did not respond to Pal's complaints, nor did he express his own worries.
Seeing him silent, Pal merely curled his lip and rolled his eyes.
He was too proud to stoop to ask a silent man what he was thinking.
So the two walked side by side on this somber street, silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
The accompanying scribe walked ahead, saying in a steady tone, "The Governor's Mansion is two more streets away; please bear with it a little longer."
Soon, the two arrived at a rough castle, which was the Governor's Mansion. The doors of the Governor's Mansion slowly opened with a heavy creak, and upon entering, the first impression was solemnity.
There were no gilded ceilings, no velvet carpets or glazed lamps, only a heavy long table, a few old bookshelves leaning against the wall, and the only decoration on the wall was a dark blue military banner.
And beneath that military banner sat a tall, imposing man, like a mountain.
Duke Edmund, Lord of the Northern Border, the true helmsman of the entire Northern Border Province.
His face seemed carved from rock, and the scar that ran from the corner of his left eye to his jaw added a cold, murderous intent.
Even sitting still, he exuded an undeniable sense of oppression.
Pal's eyes narrowed, and he immediately shed his previous flippancy, replacing it with a well-practiced smile. He bowed slightly, respectfully handing over the sealed pioneering certificate with the royal seal.
"Pal Calvin of the Calvin Family, reporting for duty."
Willis followed closely, his movements swift, but his expression normal, silently presenting his own documents.
"Wei Lisi Kaerwen." He spoke simply, without extra words.
Edmund took the documents, glanced at the seal, and raised an eyebrow, his tone noticeably softer: "Oh—from the Calvin Family—Louis's elder brother."
In that instant, even his scarred face showed a faint smile.
In that instant, the fierce scar on his face seemed to soften a bit, even revealing a rare smile.
Pal was stunned, his eye twitching involuntarily.
He actually called Louis by his first name? And recognized them as his younger brother?
He couldn't help but inwardly click his tongue, wondering when Louis had become so close with this Governor.
After a few pleasantries, Duke Edmund waved for a detailed map of the Northern Border Province to be brought, which, when unrolled, nearly covered the entire table.
"Aside from the areas marked with red circles, you can choose any other place," he said, his tone casual.
Pal's eyes immediately lit up: "This—we can still choose so many places? I thought last year's group had already taken everything."
Duke Edmund smiled faintly, a hint of coldness in his tone: "Indeed, many 'pioneering nobles' came last year—unfortunately, winter and war show no mercy. Most of them died."
Pal's expression froze. He wanted to say something, but ultimately just awkwardly rubbed the tip of his nose.
Willis, however, remained calm, lowering his head to carefully examine the markings on the map.
He knew Edmund was right.
These "available areas" now, though seemingly attractive, were mostly empty lands after being baptized by blood and fire.
"These few locations," Edmund extended a thick finger and pointed at several spots in Snowpeak County, "are close to your brother Louis's territory. Resources are still abundant, and it's a good starting point."
He said it lightly, but it clearly carried a hint of "you might want to prioritize these."
Because of Louis, he had a good impression of the Calvin Family's children and spoke a few extra words.
Before stepping into the Governor's Mansion, Pal had already mentally pondered that map of the Northern Border Province hundreds of times.
He didn't genuinely care which land was more fertile, nor was he concerned about which region had more resources.
For him, the most important thing was who controlled the territory.
"Snowpeak County? Ha." He sneered inwardly, not even looking at that area.
What a joke, how could I go to Louis's territory?
Pal considered himself far superior to his younger brother. In terms of birth, appearance, knowledge, and even his relationship with their father, he always thought Louis was just a useless nobody whom no one valued.
It was just good luck that he happened to catch the pioneering policy and came to this godforsaken icy place to get a Count's title.
In terms of actual strength, how could he possibly be subservient?
"I came to the Northern Border Province to achieve great things, not to be someone's subordinate."
So he set his sights outside Snowpeak County: the Frozen Rock Valley to the east, the Wolf Plain Slope to the northwest, and even the more distant Falling Mist Hills were all within his consideration.
These places were desolate and sparsely populated, but they meant freedom, and they meant opportunity.
Pal had even thought it through: if managed properly, his territory could become a new trade hub in the Northern Border Province.
Once the routes were opened, coupled with his family's background, in a few years, he would be able to independently establish his own fiefdom and claim a Count's title.
By then, his father should look at him differently, right?
As for that so-called "Count brother"?
He would probably become a vassal of some noble, living his life guarding a few fishing villages and mountain shanties. It would be good enough if he could avoid bankruptcy.
Thinking this, Pal's lips curled slightly, an expression of "ambition for a thousand miles." He pulled the map closer to his eyes, his finger paused, then decisively pointed at one spot: "Here, this looks pretty good."
Edmund followed the direction he pointed. It was an area south of the Cold Mist River, near the Wolf Plain Slope.
The terrain was slightly undulating, but there was a river to the south and mountains to the west. The mountains were said to have rich iron ore, and the river could lead to the more distant Frost Forest Plains, making it an area with both resource and transportation potential.
“Oh, this place...” The Duke nodded, his tone flat. “Cold Mist River is a good river, and there are many forests nearby, making hunting and logging convenient.
The veins at the foot of the mountain—they haven’t been fully explored yet, so there might be some luck there.”
He didn’t express a clear stance, but his tone revealed a hint of an observer, as if watching a young man eager to show off his skills, yet he didn’t mention the risks involved.
He squinted slightly, and with a slightly slow tone, he repeated, “Are you sure it’s here?”
A confident smile appeared on Pal’s lips. He crossed his arms and nodded firmly, “Of course.”
“Good.” Edmund’s lips curved slightly, his smile containing a hint of profound meaning.
He didn’t comment further on the wisdom of the choice, merely lightly circled the area, leaving a mark.
Then, he turned to Willis, who had been silent, “What about you? Have you made your choice?”
Willis didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood quietly before the map, his brows tightly furrowed.
He had originally, like Pal, thought of avoiding Snowpeak County and choosing another neglected corner to establish his own domain.
He was not content to be subservient to his younger brother.
But on his journey north, he had seen too much: desolate villages, ruined fortresses, vagrants frozen to death by the roadside, and gnawed bones left by wild beasts.
The Northern Border Province was not suitable for development; it was a battlefield that devoured the weak.
Yet, Louis had managed to gain a firm foothold in this land.
Willis was reluctant to admit it, but he understood one thing: those who could establish themselves in the Northern Border Province relied not on bloodline, nor on background, but on strength.
And his brother, Louis, clearly possessed such strength.
Rather than stubbornly clinging to vanity and fighting alone in the wind and snow, it was better to be pragmatic and at least survive first, then plan for the future.
He gently raised his hand, pointing to a territory on the edge of Snowpeak County, near Ice Ridge Territory.
It was a slightly elevated area, close to Green Rock Rift, rich in forest resources, and with a tributary winding through it.
The geographical conditions were considered quite good for the Northern Border Province.
Edmund glanced at him, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.
He nodded, circling that area as well: “That’s a wise choice.”
Pal pouted when he heard this but said nothing more.
But Willis didn’t look at him, nor did he explain why he chose this territory.
The Northern Border Province was not a place for dignity; it was a place for survival.
With his own resources and a powerful backer, there was a possibility of survival.
Edmund reached out and took a heavy steel stamp from the side of the table. It was the Northern Border Province’s pioneering seal, representing the initial sovereignty over this wilderness.
He laid out two documents, each bearing the royal seal, on the table, his gaze pausing briefly.
“Since you have both chosen your territories, from this moment on, you are both barons of the Northern Border Province.”
Before he finished speaking, he brought the steel stamp down heavily, the metal and paper colliding with a dull “thud.”
Both Willis and Pal felt a jolt in their hearts.
At that moment, they officially owned their own land and became true pioneering barons.
Even if this title brought no actual wealth yet, and even if the future was fraught with unknown dangers, this piece of recognition meant they would be qualified to stand at the gambling table of the Northern Border Province and fight for their own future.
Excitement, ambition, and unease surged in both their chests.
Edmund handed the documents back to them, casually offering a few pleasantries: “The Northern Border Province is cold and treacherous. May you both establish your own strongholds soon, and may you live to see next spring.”
He added with a half-smile, “To survive here is, in itself, worthy of respect.”
He changed the subject, his tone casual but not without concern: “The Governor’s Mansion has limited pioneering supplies. You can check the black market; you might find some useful early survival materials and slaves there. Remember to bargain; don’t be a fat sheep.”
A hint of disdain flashed in Pal’s eyes, as he had the massive Calvin Merchant Guild behind him, but he still nodded in agreement.
Willis, meanwhile, silently put away the document and nodded solemnly.
The two emerged from the Governor’s Mansion office. The sun was shining brightly on the flagstone street, but the air still carried a hint of the Northern Border Province’s unique chill.
Just as Pal adjusted his collar, preparing to stride confidently onto the path of a baron, a figure brushed past them.
It was a woman in a dark blue gown, graceful and dignified, as if naturally radiating # Nоvеlight # light.
Her blue hair gleamed softly in the sunlight, her features delicate and cold, yet harboring an inviolable noble aura.
Pal almost instinctively turned his head, his gaze fixed on that figure. He stared for a moment before coming back to his senses.
He licked his lips, lowering his voice to ask his accompanying officer, “Who is that lady?”
The officer glanced at him, a hint of awe in his expression: “Duke Edmund’s daughter, Lady Emily.”
Upon hearing this, Pal’s heart inexplicably quickened, and his mind immediately began to race.
Edmund’s daughter?
Then wouldn’t that be... perfect!
The right age, noble birth, matching family background.
By all accounts, she was his perfect marriage alliance candidate.
He even began to fantasize about their future wedding and the name of their first child. Would “Arthur” be a good name?
However, the blue-haired woman never once looked at him, simply walking past with the calmness of snow.
Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead, as if they were just two inconspicuous stones on the street.
On the other side, Willis remained silent. His gaze did not linger on the woman; instead, he was lost in thought.
He knew that his true focus should be Louis.
The brother he had once looked down upon, but who now stood firm in this wilderness, even earning the Duke’s approval.
How should he approach him? Should he openly ask for help, or cautiously draw near?
He looked up, gazing towards the distant Snowpeak County, and silently made a decision in his heart:
If he could grasp that rope leading to the future, even a slight bow of the head would be worth it.
Emily walked gracefully down the steps in front of the Governor’s Mansion, her boots echoing neatly on the flagstones.
She didn’t look at anyone around her. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
Including the two young men who had just acquired pioneering rights and were at the most exciting moment of their lives.
To her, too many young nobles had come to her father’s tent to register their fiefs and curry favor during this time.
The two men just now, in Emily’s eyes, were merely two names that had randomly popped up on the long list of “fief registrations” under her father’s command.
Especially after she had just returned from Red Tide Territory and met a man as remarkable as Louis, all other men seemed to dim in comparison.
“Father,” she said softly, bowing slightly.
Duke Edmund smiled as soon as he saw her enter. “How was your trip to Red Tide Territory this time?”
“I just went to look around Frost Halberd City,” Emily replied somewhat reluctantly.
“Don’t pretend.” Edmund picked up his wine glass, swirled it, and tapped the corner of the table. “I know how many sets of casual clothes you brought. Do you really think I don’t check anything?”
Emily coughed lightly, unable to hide the smile on her lips, and sat opposite her father. “Alright, I just wanted to see him for myself.”
“Oh, a daughter grown up and ready to leave the nest.” The Duke shook his head, his smile enigmatic. “Is my daughter about to be abducted?”
“Father!” She glared at him in slight annoyance, her cheeks flushing.
“Alright, alright.” Edmund spread his hands, his smile growing wider. “Then tell me, what did you really see on this trip?”
“Red Tide Territory is much better than I imagined,” Emily’s tone became serious. “The streets are clean, the public order is very good, and the residents feel secure. I saw many people living with smiles—that wasn’t an act; they were truly striving to live.”
“Sounds like a fictional place.”
“No.” She shook her head and continued, her voice low but radiating a fervent light.
“They call Louis ‘the Sun,’ saying he is the one who brings hope. I initially thought it was propaganda, but their eyes don’t lie. It’s trust, and it’s respect.”
Edmund stared at her for a few seconds, a half-smile on his face. “Quite observant, aren’t you? It seems my future son-in-law made a good impression on you?”
“I—” Emily lowered her head, saying somewhat shyly, “He is indeed more reliable than I expected. He has courage, and patience, and he understands governance.
That land, ravaged by war, is slowly recovering. He is a man who takes things seriously.”
“That’s good,” the Duke put down his wine glass. “This way, I can marry you off with peace of mind.”
“Who said I was getting married?” Emily snorted lightly, turning her head away from him.
“If you don’t want to, can I force you?” Edmund smiled and shook his head. “But you’re saying that a bit too late; your little thoughts have long been written all over your face.”
Emily bit her lip, no longer refuting him.
The room fell silent for a brief moment.
“Father,” she suddenly said softly, “Do you think—is he worth entrusting my life to?”
Edmund paused, looking at his normally calm and rational daughter, now unusually wavering.
He sighed, “I don’t know what the future holds, but there’s no truly ‘worthy’ person in this world, only whether you yourself want to believe. At least from your reaction this time, he’s doing very well right now.”
Emily nodded, her emotions somewhat complex.
Edmund leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on her, and sighed softly.
Of course, he knew that his daughter’s words carried a degree of subjective emotion, perhaps even some exaggeration.
But precisely because of this, it further indicated that she truly valued that young man.
And if Louis didn’t actually have some skills, she wouldn’t have evaluated him this way.
“It seems this kid—he shouldn’t let my daughter suffer,” he thought to himself, his expression relaxing a bit.
