Free Web NovelOutside the window, the wind and snow raged, and the sky over Frost Halberd City was as gray as a thick pot of molten iron.
In the Governor of the Northern Territory’s office, the fire in the fireplace was weak, and the temperature could never quite suppress the bone-chilling cold.
Duke Edmund, clad in a black military cloak, stood before a wooden table, his brows deeply furrowed as he gazed at an unfurled map.
Frost Halberd City, at the center of the map, was once the pride of the North; now, it resembled a festering sore pinned to the paper, unbearable to look upon.
"It cannot be kept."
His gaze slowly shifted, falling upon several other potential new city sites on the map, but none were entirely suitable.
"Corpses, poisonous mist, magic energy remnants—as long as the things left by the Mother Nest aren't cleared, Frost Halberd City cannot be inhabited for a single day."
Yet, the cold wave had arrived outside, and heavy snow blocked the roads; relocating the city rashly would be tantamount to self-destruction. They could only hold out here for now, barely surviving the winter.
Edmund's knuckles pressed against the tabletop as he pondered for a long time, his brows remaining tightly furrowed.
Just then, a knock broke the dead silence: "Thump, thump."
The old butler's low but anxious voice came from outside the door: "Your Grace, an urgent letter from the Imperial Capital."
Edmund paused slightly and lifted his head.
"Bring it in," he said in a deep voice.
The butler respectfully entered and handed over a parchment letter sealed with a golden dragon crest.
The wax seal was exceptionally conspicuous; it was not the Emperor's personal emblem, but rather the exclusive insignia of the Dragon Throne Council.
Edmund took the letter, frowning slightly, a sense of unease rising within him.
He had known this letter would eventually come, and he had known the general contents of the meeting that would determine his fate.
But until he actually opened the envelope, his heart remained unsettled.
He silently cut the wax seal, unfolded the parchment, and rows of neat, stern handwriting came into view:
In view of the extreme disaster caused by the rampant insect plague in the Northern Territory, resulting in the fall of local defense lines and severe damage to order in the defense zones, yet the Governor's Office has made meritorious efforts in coordinating disaster relief and restoring order, therefore, with the Imperial Majesty's approval, the Dragon Throne Council has deliberated and ruled as follows:
Duke Edmund is affirmed to have organized effectively and coordinated powerfully in this disaster, and his title of "Governor of the Northern Territory" shall be retained. He shall also be granted the position of "Chief Administrator of the Post-Disaster Reconstruction General Administration," to oversee all reconstruction affairs in the Northern Territory.
The Imperial Capital's Three Supervision Departments shall be stationed in the Northern Territory, integrating with the financial, military, and civil administration systems, and exercising direct imperial audit and oversight authority. The "Imperial Northern Territory Development Plan" shall commence immediately, with direct descendants of the Imperial Capital and various noble families gradually relocating to assist in reconstruction and to optimize and balance the power structure.
His Royal Highness Asta August, the Sixth Imperial Prince, shall personally proceed to the Northern Territory by imperial decree to establish an Imperial territory, representing His Majesty in supervising reconstruction and concurrently exercising imperial authority in the Northern Lands.
The Post-Disaster Reconstruction Council shall have a total of thirteen seats, eight of which shall be "fully nominated and allocated" by the Chief Administrator of the Reconstruction General Administration, to assist in the restoration of Northern Territory governance and the implementation of reconstruction plans.
The seal at the end of the letter was the joint ruling seal of the Dragon Throne Council; there was no ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) personal signature from the Emperor, but this was already tantamount to an imperial decree.
After Edmund finished reading, his fingertips tightened imperceptibly for a moment.
Then, he slowly exhaled.
"...It's saved."
His first reaction was a slight relief—the Imperial Capital had not directly taken over the Northern Territory.
Instead, they chose to grant him superficial honor and leadership under the guise of "upgrading the Reconstruction Administration."
This was already the best possible outcome.
Even though he knew that this "good" was, in essence, a compromise, a lingering existence, a maintenance of residual dignity on the edge of a knife.
He put down the letter, his gaze heavily falling back to the map, recalling the contents of the letter, and his brows furrowed once more. ƒгeewёbnovel.com
"...Northern Territory Development Plan, Imperial Capital's Three Supervision Departments, the Sixth Prince establishing a territory." Edmund's eyes suddenly grew cold. "Indeed, the Emperor isn't letting me off, but steadily replacing the old blood."
He quickly outlined the logic in his mind:
The Three Supervision Departments meant that finance and military affairs would be fully monitored, and he would no longer have the authority for "independent deployment."
The Development Plan involved moving direct descendants of major noble families into the Northern Territory, under the guise of "joint reconstruction," but in reality, to occupy territory and reshape the power structure.
The Sixth Prince's personal arrival, an imperial envoy who was not a mere nominal noble but the Emperor's own son, effectively drove in the wedge of imperial intervention.
This was a slow but thorough annexation.
The Northern Territory ostensibly retained its "Governor's Office," but in reality, it no longer belonged to the Edmund Family.
"The knife is already at the throat, it just hasn't cut yet."
Edmund stared at the letter in his hand, bearing the Dragon Throne Council's seal, and pondered for a long time.
Although the Empire's blade was already at the Northern Territory's throat, he still had some leeway.
The Northern Territory Post-Disaster Reconstruction General Administration was still headed by him as Chief Administrator.
In the Reconstruction Council, with thirteen seats for northern and southern nobles, he had absolute power to appoint eight of them.
This was at least something he could hold in his grasp.
He lowered his head and gently tapped the Northern Territory map on the table, quickly sifting through various candidates in his mind. The first name that came to him was, without a doubt, Louis Calvin.
Snowpeak County, the only complete territory that survived this catastrophe, not only preserved itself but also provided reverse support to the Governor's Office during the Northern Territory's most critical time.
Louis held a complete army and had a popular base.
More importantly, after this battle, he had been tacitly acknowledged by the common people and even the remaining nobles of the Northern Territory as a trustworthy strongman.
He possessed the ability to quickly integrate new nobles and surviving local forces, and he had the actual qualification to rally the people's hearts.
Even more importantly, he was his son-in-law.
Edmund closed his eyes, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
This was not merely about family interests, but the only rational choice for the Northern Territory at present.
Moreover, the Calvin Family had indeed lobbied and maneuvered for him at the Imperial Capital meeting.
He had to repay this favor.
"The first position, give it to him," Edmund whispered to himself.
As for other candidates, several major noble families had survived in territories further from Frost Halberd City.
However, their strength had been greatly weakened, family heirs had died in battle, private armies had suffered losses, and many aristocratic families had even seen their basic lordly bloodlines severed.
After this battle, the Northern Territory's resilience plummeted. Winter had not yet ended, and no one knew how many people would remain after enduring this extreme cold.
Thinking of this, his temples began to throb faintly, and the buzzing in his mind was like a bronze bell struck by frost and snow, low and hoarse.
Since the great war, his internal injuries had never fully healed.
The doctor had subtly told him that perhaps—perhaps, he truly didn't have many years left to live.
Perhaps he would never live to see the day the Northern Territory returned to peace.
Suddenly, a soft knock came from outside the door.
The footsteps were familiar, light, with a slight pant.
Without needing to be announced, Edmund already knew who it was.
The door was slowly pushed open. Elena, with her heavily swollen belly, held a steaming bowl of medicinal soup and said softly, "You're being disobedient again. The doctor said you shouldn't overwork yourself."
Edmund concealed the fatigue on his brow, showing a relaxed smile as he took the medicine bowl. "Don't worry, nothing will happen."
The medicinal soup was slightly bitter but brought a trace of warmth.
He lowered his head, looking at Elena's swollen belly, where his child was growing, perhaps his only hope for the future.
But the ruins of the Northern Territory, the northern barbarians, the Emperor's schemes, this reconstruction storm that had just begun—
He didn't know what kind of era this child would be born into.
"How much longer can the Northern Territory hold on?" he sighed quietly in his heart.
