In Red Tide City, on a bustling commercial plaza in the afternoon, wooden stalls were lined up, adorned with colorful banners.
The aroma of stewed meat, the warmth of baked bread, and the vibrant colors of southern brocade intertwined, creating a clamor like a market in the Imperial Capital.
Amidst the throngs of people, two merchants from the south were chatting, squeezed together.
“Phew, this north wind is cold, but this city, it’s even livelier than what I saw at the East Gate of the Imperial Capital.” The old merchant patted the wineskin at his side, his eyes full of wonder.
“Who would have thought? I originally thought the Northern Territory was long gone. After two consecutive great disasters, the entire Empire was spreading rumors that only bones remained here. I never expected there to be such a place that could still support so many people!”
The other fat merchant stroked his beard, his voice full of emotion.
They were both caravans from the Empire’s southwestern province, and as fellow villagers, they gathered their stalls together and chatted occasionally, tears welling in their eyes.
On their stall lay several bolts of silk from the south, their lustrous sheen still shimmering in the cold wind.
Passersby stopped to look, occasionally pulling out silver coins to negotiate.
Behind them, a thin assistant silently tidied the cloth, never interjecting, observing everything with indifferent eyes. “I’m telling you, if you really want to do business, this place is even better than Frost Halberd City. There, they’re rationing even grain, but here, the common people actually have spare money and even dare to buy our goods.”
The fat merchant lowered his voice, his belly jiggling with laughter: “Hmm, indeed, grain is the hardest currency.”
The old merchant nodded, looking at the bustling crowd, and couldn't help but sigh: “It’s truly strange for the Northern Territory to have such a place—”
As their chatter faded, night fell, and the lights on Red Tide City’s commercial plaza gradually extinguished.
Stalls were packed away one by one, the shouts faded into the distance, leaving only the clatter of patrolling knights’ iron boots.
The two merchants also finished packing the last few bolts of silk, placing them into wooden boxes, tightly wrapped in canvas. They bid each other farewell, their figures dispersing with the crowd.
The fat merchant and his subordinates did not choose a lively tavern but turned into a secluded alley, heading to a remote residence.
These were collective dwellings built by Red Tide in its early days; some that hadn't been demolished were given to traveling merchants from other places, mainly because the rent was cheap.
The heavy wooden door closed, candles were lit, and the atmosphere immediately changed drastically.
The fat merchant, who had previously been all smiles and sweating profusely, instantly reined in his laughter, shrinking his body, full of respect, even a hint of apprehension.
“Sir, Red Tide City is indeed completely different from the Northern Territory.”
As he spoke, he didn't dare to look directly at the thin assistant.
The silent, slender man, who had been taciturn all day, finally truly lifted his head.
The candlelight revealed a stern face, his brows and eyes sharp as blades, carrying a chilling intensity that made one dare not meet his gaze.
His name was Anthony, a senior officer of the Silver Plate Guild in the Emerald Federation.
Currently, all affairs of the entire Imperial Northern Territory were handled by him.
This was because his predecessor, Karlan, had mysteriously died two years ago during an operation.
But the Guild had not given up on this land, the reason being the rumored vast mineral veins buried beneath the frozen earth.
If they could control the undeveloped mines of the Imperial Northern Territory, it would mean being able to contend with the Emerald Guild and even rewrite the power landscape within the Federation.
That’s why Anthony was needed to oversee this place; he was known for his meticulous conduct and was thus specifically dispatched here to take over Karlan’s mess.
The fat spy bowed and whispered continuous reports of what he had learned in Red Tide:
“Your subordinate has been lurking in Red Tide City for over a year, arriving here as a merchant after the insect plague. It’s just that Red Tide City is becoming increasingly strange. The granaries are unbelievably full, and the common people actually have spare money to buy silk; it’s simply an illusion—”
Anthony just listened without speaking, occasionally nodding slightly in response.
Loose lips sink ships, and caution was his nature; even long-time subordinates could not be fully trusted. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
Anthony only needed a day of observation in Red Tide City to discern the clues.
The streets were orderly, security was strict, and warehouse accounts were publicly displayed; every link was precisely in place.
This was by no means “good luck” that appeared out of nowhere, but rather the result of a powerful, coordinating hand behind it.
The main reason was the great Red Tide Lord, Louis, as the common people called him.
Before Anthony arrived, he had already reviewed Louis’s information.
The most inconspicuous son of the Calvin Family, thrown into the Northern Territory as a discarded piece to open up new land.
Yet, in just a few short years, he repeatedly achieved merits, even playing important roles in the insect plague and the barbarian attacks.
He was even highly regarded by the old Duke Edmund, who took him as a son-in-law, and even before his death, handed over the actual rule of the Northern Territory to him.
“Such a figure cannot be underestimated,” Anthony murmured softly in his heart.
Originally, he had another secret mission on this trip.
That was to establish contact with the high-ranking chess piece hidden within the Empire.
But the current situation in Red Tide City was far more complex than expected; rash action might expose his whereabouts.
“Caution is paramount,” this was his only creed throughout his journey.
So Anthony secretly made a decision: contact with that chess piece—temporarily postponed. He would wait until he moved to a more remote location before acting opportunistically.
This time, his main objective was to uncover the Red Tide Lord’s secret.
His subordinate's report gradually ceased, leaving only the crackling of the candle flame in the room.
Anthony listened quietly, expressionless, until the other party was completely silent, then he slowly spoke.
“I understand everything.” His voice was low, yet devoid of any emotion.
He paused, as if pondering for a moment, then briefly added: “Tomorrow, I will explore other places. You all continue as normal, don’t reveal any flaws. Now, go rest early.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he had already turned and walked into the inner room, not saying another word.
Silence once again fell upon the room, leaving only the subordinate's soft assent, cold sweat beading on his forehead, not even daring to breathe too loudly.
Deep into the night, the candlelight flickered in the dilapidated small house, and Anthony still hadn't closed his eyes.
A thick stack of papers lay spread on the table, containing fragmented intelligence previously recorded by the spy disguised as a merchant: Red Tide’s grain prices, cargo allocation, knight patrol routes.
Everything was meticulously marked and analyzed by him.
“The public granary accounts, the clear contract markings—this system is even more rigorous than those under the nobles in the Imperial Capital. It won’t be easy to target.”
A cold thought arose in his mind. Just as he was about to deduce how to embed a spy, a sudden, unfamiliar killing intent, like a sharp blade, pierced his heart.
Anthony abruptly looked up, his pupils contracting.
As an Extraordinary Knight, his intuition instantly blared an alarm.
The next moment, “Boom!”
The wooden wall exploded, dust flew, and the door was kicked off, smashing against the stone wall with a crash.
Half the house tilted violently from the intense tremor, and dust rained down with a whoosh.
Anthony’s heart tightened abruptly, but his body reacted faster than his mind; his battle qi instantly ignited!
Silver flames erupted around him. His figure flickered, and he swiftly retreated to the corner of the room.
On the other side, the iron cabinet in the room's corner burst open, and three tall, black-armored knights stepped out simultaneously.
“Clank, clank.”
The heavy sound of armor rubbing carried a chilling coldness. Their eyes were vacant, yet their bodies exuded a terrifying aura.
Each one was an Extraordinary Knight-level battle puppet, modified with Guild potions and runes.
Immediately following, over a dozen slightly weaker gray-armored guards also appeared, their eyes equally devoid of emotion. Yet their movements were perfectly synchronized, like puppets.
Anthony let out a low roar: “Break out!”
Amidst the roar, the battle puppets stepped out in unison, silver battle qi surged, and the room instantly felt as if a fierce wind swept through it.
However, the enemy was faster than he had anticipated.
Through the shattered walls, several figures suddenly leaped in, their battle qi burning into dazzling blue light in the darkness.
The aura was sharp, steady, and ruthless.
Anthony's heart suddenly went cold.
“All of them are beyond Extraordinary?!”
Blue light and silver flames instantly intertwined, and battle erupted without warning.
An attacker landed violently, a long blade slicing through the air.
The black-armored battle puppet swung its greatsword to block, and in an instant, a metallic clang erupted, sparks flying.
However, the next moment, the sharp edge of the blue battle qi directly split open the battle puppet's armor.
The modified knight, considered a treasure by the Guild, had its chest, along with the steel, burst apart. It fell heavily to the ground, its body twitching and shattering.
“What?!” Anthony’s pupils contracted sharply.
Before he could react, another attacker had already darted through the gray-armored guards like a phantom.
Blade light flashed like lightning, blue battle qi tore through the air, bringing with it a mist of blood and metal fragments.
The gray-armored guards struck in unison but were utterly disintegrated in an instant, blood staining the stone floor.
Within mere seconds, the entire room had become a hell.
Anthony gritted his teeth and roared, battle qi surging. He charged like a ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) silver comet, forcefully tearing open a gap, attempting to escape through a side window.
However, a mountain-like pressure suddenly assailed him.
Ahead was another blue figure, a blade slicing through the night, carrying a chilling whistle.
Anthony barely managed to block with his sword, but he felt his arm vibrate, his bones seemingly about to crack.
The next instant, his left knee bone was viciously kicked, and he sprawled to the ground.
“Ah—!”
The intense pain made him break out in a cold sweat, but his consciousness was forcibly suppressed.
He struggled wildly, silver battle qi burning in his chest, but it was instantly crushed under the encirclement of several blue auras.
Immediately after, a blade was pressed against his neck, and several chains simultaneously snapped into place, binding him tightly.
Anthony gasped for air, his chest heaving violently.
It was over.
His heart was utterly desolate.
Why was he exposed? Was it the betrayal of that fat merchant’s subordinate? Or a secret stab from a spy sent by the Imperial Capital? Or—had the Red Tide Territory already been watching him?
His mind was full of questions, but he ultimately had no way of knowing.
The enemy gave him no chance to speak, and the final heavy blow landed on the back of his neck. His vision suddenly went black.
Anthony’s body fell heavily to the ground, his silver battle qi dissipating like smoke into the night.
Silence fell all around, leaving only the broken wooden beams gently swaying.
The leading blue-armored knight slowly sheathed his sword, removed his face-covering iron mask, revealing a stern face.
It was Ferran, the commander of the Frost Iron Knights.
He stepped forward, kneeling slightly, his tone carrying a hint of ease: “Reporting, Lord, the mission is complete.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the unconscious captive on the ground, then added with some helplessness:
“However, one of my subordinates didn’t know his own strength and broke his leg.”
Louis, who had been observing the battle from the side, raised his chin, a smile on his face, yet his eyes remained as calm as ever.
He shook his head, his tone relaxed: “It’s fine. As long as he can still speak.”
Ferran grinned: “That’s good then. As for the interrogation, you can also leave that to us. The Knights have the best interrogators in the Northern Territory.”
Louis raised an eyebrow, and with a sigh-like smile, said: “As expected of the strongest Knights in the Northern Territory, even these provisions are all-inclusive.”
Ferran bowed with a smile and ordered his subordinates to drag away the unconscious Anthony and the other captives.
This scene was actually within Louis’s expectations.
He had long known through the Daily Intelligence System that a spy from the Silver Plate Guild was lurking in this city.
However, he didn't tip them off, but patiently cast his line, waiting for the big fish to surface on its own.
Now, Anthony, the person in charge of the Northern Territory, was finally caught, still carrying an unfinished secret mission.
“Perfect,” Louis murmured to himself, a smile playing on his lips, “When the Imperial Capital’s distinguished guests arrive in a few days, I will let them see Red Tide’s welcoming gift.”
Around the dilapidated house, many residents, awakened by the commotion, poked their heads out, their whispers rising and falling.
“Are they catching thieves?”
“Look, it’s the Knights! And—the Lord!”
Someone recognized the tall figure and exclaimed, immediately attracting more people.
The alley in the night quickly filled with onlookers, their shouts gradually converging.
“Lord!”
“Lord Louis!”
They waved, their cheers enthusiastic, their eyes filled with respect.
After all, normally, except in the administrative hall, very few people had recently seen the Lord in person.
Facing this sudden crowd, Louis slightly raised his hand, and with a gentle expression, said: “Everyone, please disperse. It’s just catching some bad guys, there’s no need to be alarmed. Go back early and rest early.”
After speaking, he mounted his horse, his cloak flapping, and led his men away.
The winter wind howled, and the procession stretched for several miles.
Carriages adorned with black and gold patterns slowly rolled over the rugged mountain path, with knights arranged in squares before and behind, showcasing the Empire’s majesty.
Thick snow covered the official road, and horses' hooves often sank deep into it, the draft animals panting like oxen.
Occasionally, a wheel would slip, and the attendants would have to get down and push, getting their legs covered in mud and snow.
Inside the spacious carriage, Simir covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, frowning as he looked out the window.
In the distance were snow-covered ruins and broken walls, occasionally revealing a few charred wooden stakes—villages destroyed by insect plagues and war. “What a godforsaken place,” he couldn’t help but complain in a low voice, his eyes full of disgust and impatience.
“They wouldn’t keep me in the Imperial Capital, so they sent me to the Northern Territory—a special inspector? Ha, it’s more like being exiled.”
The attendants exchanged glances, not daring to reply.
The enfeoffment ceremony was originally supposed to be held in the Imperial Capital or at least in a proxy city.
But now the Emperor’s whereabouts were unknown, and the Northern Territory was in ruins. Frost Halberd City had not yet been fully rebuilt, so they could only settle for a secondary option, deciding to hold it in Red Tide.
Simir’s dissatisfaction grew: “The Northern Territory is so broken, and I still need to be stationed here permanently? Frost Halberd City, that half-ruined fortress, is to be my station for the next few years?”
But in truth, this bad assignment was not forced upon him; he had volunteered for it himself.