Free Web NovelElena was wrapped in a dark gray cloak, the corner of the carriage curtain fluttering slightly in the wind and snow.
She sat by the window, her fingertips gently caressing the frosted glass, her gaze fixed on the straight streets outside.
It was deep winter now, with heavy snow falling, and almost nothing but white and cold wind between heaven and earth.
But the scene in Red Tide City was completely different from other areas of the North.
Cold-tolerant pines and cypresses stood in rows along the streets, their branches covered with frost, yet they remained neat and uniform, both blocking the wind and adorning the city.
The houses along the way were semi-circular, their snow-covered domes shimmering with soft rosy and dark gold light in the white mist.
Each domed house was semi-embedded in the ground, its eaves curving with the terrain, like warm shelters naturally grown from the snowfield.
A low gurgling sound of water faintly came from beneath the road; that was Louis Calvin’s designed heating channel, into which warm water was injected in winter to prevent freezing, so even with heavy snow, the carriage wheels didn't slip.
Elena watched all of this quietly, her breath fogging the glass, and after a moment, she softly said, “It’s truly incredible—”
She had been in the Red Tide Territory for nearly two years, yet she was still awed by this city.
The snow of the North originally symbolized harshness and death, but here, it had become an orderly landscape.
Pedestrians passed by the street corner, artisans pushed wooden barrels, children led snow dogs, and women carrying food walked through the mist.
Everyone was busy, but not in a panic.
She remembered her surprise when she first arrived, but now a long-lost sense of peace arose in her heart.
The bells of Frost Halberd City from over a year ago still echoed in her dreams.
At that time, Elena held Little Isaac, still grieving the Duke’s passing.
The Duke’s dying wish was firmly etched in her heart: the territory and Knight Regiment were to be temporarily managed by Louis Calvin until Isaac came of age.
This arrangement caused her much worry.
Elena didn't understand why her husband would entrust the power of the Edmund Family to a young noble unrelated by blood; even if he was Emily’s husband, he was ultimately not of the Edmund Family name.
Even though she didn't show any doubts, she was still somewhat worried, as the power given to this young man was simply too great, making it easy for someone to change their heart.
On the first day of arriving in Red Tide, light snow was falling.
She and Isaac were settled in a newly built noble residence in the center of Red Tide City.
It was a residence built with Louis Calvin’s funds, even brighter and warmer than the old Frost Halberd castle, with a ventilated copper pipe system by the windows, a constantly operating fireplace, and even the snow on the roof could be melted by hidden pipes.
The artisans of Red Tide had accomplished something that the nobles of the North hadn't thought of for hundreds of years.
And her status was still “Duchess Edmund,” though without real power, she was still treated with respect.
Louis Calvin and Emily often visited, asking for her opinions on certain etiquette or statutes, their tone more respectful than formal.
Whenever Louis Calvin laughed in the living room while recounting anecdotes about new policies, or Emily held Little Isaac and played with him, he would still recall the warm scenes when Duke Edmund was alive.
However, behind the gentleness and courtesy, she still maintained caution.
Elena could see Louis Calvin’s restraint and propriety, and she could also see the underlying power beneath that propriety—an ambition that could not be ignored.
She also couldn't help but worry for her own son: in this long game of power, no one can remain perpetually desireless.
But life in Red Tide gradually made her lower her guard, though not entirely. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
She began to observe the order of this city firsthand, from food rationing to urban management, from military discipline to workshop systems.
And Louis Calvin seemed to not covet Isaac’s title, nor did he touch the Edmund Family’s property.
On the contrary, he opened Red Tide’s education, finances, and military supplies to all social classes, even allowing vagrants to work in workshops or pursue further education.
Elena conversed with Red Tide officials at a banquet, surprised to find them discussing not conquests, but port expansion, mechanical technology, and winter relief.
Tax laws were transparent, food coupons fair, orphans could attend school, and even servants were learning to read and write in night school.
Gradually, she finally understood that Louis Calvin’s ambition was not merely the rule of the North, but a new order, an order that allowed everyone to survive.
Elena’s vigilance had not disappeared, but that fear was replaced by a strange respect.
While he was lost in thought, the carriage slowly stopped in the thick snow, and the maid softly reminded her, “Madam, we have arrived.”
Elena lifted the curtain, and the cold wind rushed in, instantly wetting her cloak with snowflakes.
Before her was a simple but neat courtyard, with Red Tide’s emblem hanging at the entrance, the sun pattern shimmering in the wind and snow.
That was the Red Tide Orphanage.
This was Elena’s task today: to inspect the preparations of the Red Tide Orphanage.
Since she took charge of several orphanages in the city, she personally inspected them every few days.
The children in the orphanage adored her and would always wave from the window when her carriage approached.
Snow filled the sky, and the air was filled with the scent of firewood and hot soup.
Elena tightened her cloak and stepped onto the stone steps. Behind her, several maids and administrators followed, and along the way, orphanage staff bowed and greeted her.
She patrolled the corridors of the orphanage, her steps slow but steady.
Children’s laughter came from behind the doors, mixed with the sound of reading.
A little boy was squatting in a corner, holding a wooden toy.
Elena walked over, bent down, and tied his scarf for him.
The boy looked up blankly, and she gently stroked his hair.
The maid quickly stepped forward and handed the child a bowl of hot soup.
The nuns inside the orphanage distributed food in an orderly manner, and a fire burned in the center.
Several older orphans were reading to the younger children, reciting the “Literacy Textbook” compiled by Red Tide Academy.
Wooden plaques hung on the walls, carved with the slogan: “Everyone is a child of Red Tide.”
Elena stood for a long time. This was Louis Calvin’s instruction: all orphans could receive basic education, and if they wished, they could enter various fields in Red Tide in the future.
Just then, a little girl ran over, holding a flower wreath, her eyes sparkling: “Madam! These are flowers we exchanged with today’s snack money!”
Elena was startled, took the wreath, and smiled as she stroked her hair: “Thank you, it’s really beautiful.”
At this moment, she remembered Emily’s coquettish smile when she was little, which was just like this.
Afterward, she walked into the storeroom to check the distribution of charcoal and blankets.
When she found the quantity insufficient, she immediately turned to the steward in charge of supplies and said, “Add thirty more furnaces of heating charcoal, and two more heaters in the children’s ward. Medicine and alcohol must be replenished by tomorrow morning.”
The steward hurriedly nodded: “Yes, Madam! Red Tide will not let the children freeze, I will arrange for the goods immediately.”
Elena’s expression was gentle, but her eyes held an unyielding firmness: “No matter how tight the budget, the children cannot go hungry.”
Outside, the wind and snow grew fiercer, but inside the orphanage, it became even livelier. The children’s laughter, the crackling of the fire, and the rustling of book pages intertwined into a warm melody.
As night fell, Elena returned to her residence in Red Tide City.
The fireplace glowed with a gentle fire, and Isaac lay by the window watching the snow, his face warm with the orange light.
She sat at her desk, unfolded a letter, and began to write to an old friend in Frost Halberd, also a noblewoman of the North:
“You ask if I regret leaving Frost Halberd? No. Louis Calvin has not betrayed the Duke’s trust—
His ambition may be more than just the North—but in his order, even winter is warm.”
The ink was slightly dry, the firelight flickered.
She sealed the letter, looked up at the snowy night outside the window, hoping that everyone would have a slightly better winter.
Winter finally passed, and the accumulated snow on the streets glittered in the sunlight.
Ribbons and banners were already being set up in the Red Tide City market, and the air was filled with the scent of hot soup and bread.
Since Louis Calvin arrived, Red Tide people hold the Spring Festival every year at this time, celebrating the end of winter and giving thanks for the efforts and harvests of the past year.
This was the Red Tide Territory’s fourth Spring Festival, but for Kosa, it was his first.
The morning mist had not yet fully dispersed, and the entire city was adorned with festive colors.
On the main street, banners and colorful fabrics fluttered along the road, artisans paved the way, and children gathered around snowmen by the roadside, their laughter echoing in the cold air.
Today he had a task: to represent Knight Regiment in the parade procession.
Although he had quietly complained last night, “Why do we have to do something so meaningless?”
But thinking about riding a horse through the entire city and letting people see their formation, his heart was still filled with a secret anticipation.
He woke up early, washed, put on his clean Formal Knight uniform, and adjusted the emblem on his chest.
His somewhat nervous expression was reflected in the mirror. He exhaled softly, checked his sword and belt, then turned to straighten the edges of his knight’s cloak.
A knock on the [N O V E L I G H T] door sounded. “Kosa, hurry!”
The one who pushed the door open was the gray-haired youth, Grey.
He was a year older than Kosa, originally a vagrant from the North, who had come to Red Tide with his parents three years ago. His talent was also extremely high, and he now possessed the strength of a Formal Knight.
The two trained together, were scolded together, and even secretly ate stewed meat from the kitchen together; they were the best of friends.
“If you don’t come out soon, breakfast will get cold,” Grey said with a smile, tossing him a piece of bread.
“I haven’t tied my cloak yet,” Kosa caught the bread and replied gruffly, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
They munched on bread as they walked to the training camp’s dining hall.
The table was set with special festival breakfast: rye porridge, stewed meat, warm milk.
Grey spoke while eating, “I heard that today’s floats can move by themselves; the artisans used steam engines. I bet one of them will break down.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Kosa glared at him, but couldn’t help but laugh.
After eating, they put on their cloaks and hurried to the assembly point.
On the training ground, a dozen Formal Knights were ready to depart, and Instructor Bruch stood at the front of the formation.
His voice was deep and powerful: “Remember, the Knight formation is a symbol of Red Tide. Today is not war, but we must let the people see our spirit and give them a sense of security.”
“Yes!” everyone responded in unison.
Hooves clattered on the cobblestones, creating a steady rhythm.
The main street of the city was already packed with people, children holding small flags, elders holding red ribbons.
Wreaths hanging on street corners swayed gently in the wind and snow, and there was a faint scent of charcoal in the air.
The Knight formation was at the very front of the procession, riding horses, orderly yet not rigid.
Today was not a parade, but a celebration, so they were allowed to relax a little, smiling and responding to the people on both sides.
A child ran to the roadside, reaching out to touch a horse’s mane, and Grey leaned down, smiling, and handed him a small badge.
Kosa gripped the reins, his heart beating faster than a drum.
At first, he was a little reserved, but as the cheers of the crowd grew louder and louder, the light in those eyes slowly made him straighten his back.
He looked at Grey, who grinned back.
“Long live Red Tide!” Grey shouted.
Kosa couldn’t help but shout along: “Long live Red Tide!”
At this moment, flags fluttered in the wind and snow, and the clamor and laughter merged into one.
Winter had passed, and for the first time, he truly felt that he belonged here.
The end of the parade was just the beginning; Fierce Tide Square was bustling with people, and the air was filled with the scent of roasted fish, stewed meat, and wine.
Street stalls lined up one after another, artisans busy showcasing their crafts, and children darted through the crowd, holding activity passports covered with stamps, their faces flushed with laughter.
Grey pulled him into the crowd: “Come on! Builders Challenge, we’re a team!”
They completed the wooden bridge balance, transport relay, and model assembly side by side, finally receiving a Red Tide badge at the finish line.
Grey laughed like a child, shaking the medal at him.
Then they forged iron at the artisan workshop’s handicraft stall.
The steel plate Kosa first hammered out was crooked and twisted, but the master patted his shoulder: “Not bad, strong.”
He scratched his head a little shyly, but the corners of his mouth couldn’t stop turning up.
In the afternoon, they sat on a roadside bench eating a festival meal: roasted meat, hot soup, sweet bread, all free of course.
Children sang around a bonfire in the distance, and lights glowed in the windows of every house.
At night, a huge bonfire was lit in the center of Fierce Tide Square, its flames illuminating the entire night sky.
Snowflakes melted into mist in the heat, falling on their faces with a touch of warmth.
Thousands of people formed concentric circles, layer upon layer, children riding on their fathers’ shoulders, artisans and soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder, and even old street vendors stopped their work, looking up at the high platform.
Louis Calvin and Emily ascended the high platform side by side.
The firelight reflected on their cloaks, the gold threads shimmering like shooting stars.
Louis Calvin raised his hand, and the clamor in the square instantly subsided, only the bonfire crackling.
“Red Tide belongs to everyone who contributes,” his voice was steady and powerful, echoing in the wind and snow.
After a moment of silence, the entire square erupted in thunderous cheers.
The crowd shouted in unison: “Red Tide! Red Tide!”
Flags fluttered, and the sound of the wind and shouts intertwined into a deafening anthem.
Kosa stood at the end of the Formal Knight formation, his gaze fixed on the main flag. The firelight reflected on his face, his young eyes filled with fervor.
At this moment, he almost forgot where he came from; he was simply a member of Red Tide.
Grey beside him patted his shoulder: “Hey, don’t zone out. We have to shout too.”
Kosa took a deep breath, raised the flagstaff in his hand, and shouted with everyone: “Long live Red Tide!”
The shouts echoed in the night sky, and distant echoes from the mountainside came in waves.
At that moment, the cold was no longer cold, and the firelight illuminated every young face.
Just a few months ago, Kosa felt like an outsider, but now he could smile and celebrate with everyone.
Returning home, he took out a letter and wrote a few lines:
Father, Red Tide’s winter is warmer than I imagined.
The people here are equal and enthusiastic, and everyone can change their destiny through hard work.
The instructor said I have a chance to be promoted to Formal Knight next year. I am doing well, please rest assured.
A few days later, he received a reply to the letter.
His father’s handwriting was as before, bold yet gentle:
Good child, live well in Red Tide. To be in such a great place is a blessing.
Don’t cause trouble, study hard. When spring arrives, perhaps I can come visit.
Kosa was silent for a long time after reading the letter. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
In the night, lamplight and bonfires intertwined, and he suddenly understood that this sense of belonging was no longer given by others, but something he had personally walked into; now he was truly a Red Tide person.
