Free Web NovelThe Dawn Harbor fleet had set sail, its white sails gradually disappearing into the sea mist under the morning light.
Louis did not stay at the port to celebrate; that was merely the beginning of a long voyage. Their destination was Red Tide City, the brain of the Northern Territory.
So the carriage headed south, and he returned to his familiar desk, facing a mountain of documents and orders, beginning a new round of government affairs.
Bradley pushed open the door, carrying a thick ledger, and bowed slightly, "Lord, this is this year's autumn harvest report."
Louis looked up but said nothing, gesturing for him to continue.
"This year was also a great harvest," Bradley opened the first page. "The total yield is approximately 340,000 tons. Although the growth rate has slowed, the granaries are still full." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
He paused, then sighed softly.
"There are three reasons: greenhouses and steam storage still play a role, but the marginal increase in new capacity is diminishing. New reclaimed land in the border areas was affected by cold snaps and pests, and yields did not meet expectations. And there were delays due to freezing fog during the final harvest period."
Louis was silent for a moment, his gaze falling on Wheat Wave Territory on the map, the heartland of Red Tide's grain production.
"In other words," he said indifferently, "this year's growth has stabilized."
In fact, Louis could understand; there was only so much land, and there were no miracles of doubling yields every year.
The growth of grain production had reached its limit, a combination of divine will and human effort.
"Yes, Lord." Bradley closed the ledger. "However, the reserve line is still safe. The three-year granary target for the entire Northern Territory has been met, but—"
"But we can no longer distribute as broadly as in previous years." Louis interjected, his tone calm. "The chaos in the Empire has not ended. Our grain is still the most important thing in the Northern Territory."
Bradley nodded slightly, "My suggestion is to maintain Red Tide's reserves as planned, but to differentiate more finely in quotas and prices.
Allied territories will continue to receive supplies at low prices or through subsidies, while those who have not joined—slightly higher, not enough to anger them, but enough to make them feel a bit sour."
Louis smiled, a hint of sarcasm in his expression: "There's no need to worry about those nobles who haven't joined the Red Tide System. Since they've already chosen their side, there's no need for us to be polite to them.
The grain we give them will only be slightly cheaper than what comes from the south; no more favors are needed.
If lords who haven't joined Red Tide want lower prices, they're dreaming. There are no favors outside the system; loyalty is the most important currency."
Bradley listened, a smile flashing across his eyes: "I understand, that's exactly how it should be."
Louis then said nothing, lost in thought, and the hall fell silent except for the crackling of the fire in the fireplace.
After a moment, Louis looked up and broke the silence: "Starting next year, Red Tide's grain production technology and governance system must be introduced into the noble territories that have already joined the system."
Bradley's expression changed slightly, and he hesitated, "Lord, Red Tide's technologies and systems are good things—are they too precious to be shared casually?"
Louis looked out at the Grey sky, calmly stating, "I judge that in the next few years, the Empire may fall into great turmoil.
To survive in a chaotic world, we need special means to accumulate strength more quickly. As long as the core technology remains in our people's hands, no matter how fast they learn, they won't grasp the essence."
Bradley pondered for a moment, then finally nodded, "Understood, Lord."
The two then unrolled new parchment scrolls and drafted a rough promotion plan for next year's spring plowing on the table.
"Before this winter, the signing of archives and contracts must be completed," Louis concisely listed several key points. "The Council Hall must firmly control the seeds and greenhouse materials.
From before spring to late summer, we will advance pilot projects, sowing, replication, and evaluation in phases. Each phase must have a performance ranking, with clear rewards and punishments."
Bradley recorded by his side, adding in a low voice, "What about the granaries in each territory? Should they also be standardized?"
"They must be." Louis nodded. "All contracted territories must build at least one standard granary, and the grain routes must be connected."
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He paused, then wrote a new line on the paper: "Laws and supervision must go hand in hand. Supervisors must not be bribed by nobles or remain in their positions for too long; if such signs appear, they must be replaced immediately."
Bradley looked up, a hint of determination in his brows: "What if nobles delay or conspire to resist?"
"Supply cuts and audits." Louis's tone was calm. "If they play tricks, let them ponder the meaning of loyalty in hunger."
"Of course, this is just a framework," Louis closed his pen. "The details will still need to be completed and executed by you."
Bradley put away the draft, responding solemnly, "Understood, Lord."
He turned to leave, but Louis suddenly spoke, "Bradley."
The Old Butler stopped, turning his head slightly.
"Take care of yourself." Louis's tone carried a touch of genuine warmth. "There will be many more places where I'll need your help in the days to come."
Bradley paused slightly, then showed a genuine smile: "I will, Lord.
Street vendors set up copper stoves at the corner, and the aroma °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° of roasted meat mixed with the scent of sweet wine.
Civilian children gathered around a candy cart, watching syrup flow into golden threads under the winter night lights.
On the other side, nobles emerged from the theater, shaking snow from their cloaks, brushing shoulders with workers and apprentices without any sense of separation.
Further away, an old artisan played an accordion at his stall, while several soldiers laughed and clapped along with hot wine cans.
In the brightly lit shop windows, a seamstress displayed Red Tide's latest jacket styles to customers, reportedly designed personally by Lady Emily.
—
The cheerful and melodious tune from the music hall abruptly ceased when the night patrol's horn sounded, replaced by the soft strumming of a street performer's lute.
This was the night in Red Tide City; its prosperity was not the extravagance of the imperial capital, but an orderly freedom.
Whether workers or nobles, everyone could enjoy the night under the same lamp.
Even the poorest vagrant could drink a cheap but warm wine under the lights.
A carriage slowly drove across the square, and Merian leaned back on the cushions, watching the lights flicker above the heads of the crowd.
Finally, the carriage stopped in front of the theater. The attendant opened the door, and the cold wind, carrying snow, swirled in. Merian instinctively hunched his shoulders.
Then he straightened up, gave a slight smile, like a gentleman who had learned how to handle attention.
Merian was led to the top-floor banquet hall, a place only the most distinguished people in Red Tide City could enter.
The sound of string instruments, the aroma of wine, conversations, and soft laughter intertwined to form a gentle background.
Several Red Tide nobles, research officers, and Knight Regiment commanders sat around a long table, their cups reflecting the lamplight and the shadows of snow.
A young female singer softly sang "Dawn of the Northern Territory" on stage, her voice clear like water flowing from a glacier.
Merian was the focus of attention recently, and he had gradually grown accustomed to such occasions.
Although still occasionally reserved, he began to understand how to respond to jokes, when to raise a toast, and even how to initiate small talk.
Someone joked about the new turmoil in the Northern Territory Council, while others praised Red Tide's workshops for being able to operate during the snowy season.
Merian merely smiled, occasionally interjecting a few words, recounting interesting anecdotes he had heard in the laboratory a few days prior.
For example, Silco's apprentice accidentally blew up a metal pot during an experiment, which then smashed through the roof.
"That child has now been reassigned to repair chimneys," he said lightly, drawing a round of laughter.
During the banquet, a noble raised his glass and flattered, "If it weren't for Lord Louis's keen eye for talent, inviting Lord Merian here, the Northern Territory would have lost half a miracle."
Merian smiled back, his tone calm but sincere: "Red Tide has given me everything—space for research, freedom, and a warm room. Thank you, Lord Louis."
Everyone present nodded in agreement.
The conversation then shifted; some spoke of the extravagance of the imperial capital, while others sighed that for the Northern Territory to have such a city now felt like a dream.
Merian looked at the light in his wine, a touch of tenderness welling up in his heart.
Yes, he was no longer the prisoner cowering in the shadows.
Although not yet completely at ease, he had learned to enjoy, to enjoy being respected, and to enjoy his own place in Red Tide City.
The banquet continued late into the night.
Merian did not drink too much wine, and after politely exchanging pleasantries with several officials, he left early.
Standing at the theater entrance, the snow had grown heavier, and the lights pierced through the curtain of snow, illuminating the clock tower at the end of the street.
When he returned to the Alchemy Tower, the fireplace was still lit.
Merian looked at the notes and sample bottles piled on the table; recent experiments had been difficult.
The Frost Giants project Louis had entrusted to him was too profound, mainly because the giants' sanity was extremely unstable. Every adjustment to the potion ended in failure, and several rampages nearly caused tragedies.
But Louis did not pursue the matter, only saying calmly, "Research other directions first."
At that moment, a complex gratitude arose in Merian's heart.
If he couldn't complete a task in the Emerald Federation, he would most likely be beaten.
Feeling grateful, he decided to proactively adjust his research direction: from high-risk giant control to more controllable large magical beast taming technology, intending to use the developed technology to in turn support the giant experiments.
So Merian began new experiments in the magical beast enclosure outside the city. freewebnøvel.coɱ
That testing ground was near the North Shore Tundra, surrounded by iron cages and thick wooden fences.
Merian chose a ferocious Snowfield White Bear as his target; this creature was a top predator in the Northern Territory.
Its fur was cold-resistant, its bone density extremely high, and it could tear iron gates apart with its bare hands. No one had ever successfully tamed one before.
For the first few days of the experiment, almost every day ended in failure.
The white bear went mad, cages were destroyed, and apprentices were injured.
Injecting too much potion only intensified its aggression, and the sonic induction device shattered glass but failed to calm it.
Those days, the entire experimental area was filled with the smell of blood.
But Merian did not stop. He repeatedly adjusted the formula, reduced the induction frequency, and wrote dense annotations in his experimental log.
In the cold wind, his hands were red with cold, but his eyes remained focused.
At night, he often sat by the fireplace, contemplating the boundary between control and instinct.
Until one accidental moment—that day, when Merian was preparing a new potion, he mistakenly poured the residue of a small bottle of "Frost Heart Solution" into the catalyst liquid.
That was a potion previously used for giant experiments, usually extremely dangerous in its typical dosage.
But that time, after the liquid was injected into the white bear's body, its roar did not last much longer.
It first panted softly, then quietly lay down, emitting a low whimper.
The scene was utterly silent.
Merian held his breath, watching those violent eyes dim little by little. It wasn't death, but a form of submission.
"Record reaction time—thirty-seven seconds," he whispered as he noted it down.
That night, Merian did not return to the city. Snow fell all night, and the lights in the experimental area remained on, shining on the white bear's calm body.
Weeks later, the experiment finally succeeded.
Under taming commands, the white bear could execute simple combat orders—charge, halt, guard.
Upon hearing the news, Louis decided to personally go and observe.
In the early morning, snow mist swirled across the military testing ground.
Nearly a hundred knights surrounded the demonstration area, their exhaled breaths condensing into white mist in the air.
The white bear in the center of the field was enormous, its thick fur gleaming silver, clad in Red Tide standard light armor, with the Red Tide emblem carved on its chest. The combination of metal and fur made it appear even more imposing, like a knight.
Its exhaled breath swirled with white smoke, and its eyes glowed with a faint blue light.
Merian stood by, slightly nervous, while Weil could barely contain his excitement.
Louis noticed his eager expression and chuckled, "Want to try? Go up and see if it's obedient."
"Yes, Lord!" Weil laughed, flipped over, and jumped directly onto its back.
The giant beast let out a low growl but did not resist, its four limbs firmly planted on the ground.
"Charge!" Weil commanded.
The white bear abruptly started, its chain-like muscles rippling under its fur. It crushed the snow, kicking up a wave of white.
Instantly, it crashed into a three-layer thick iron shield wall ahead. The shield wall was directly shattered, sending splinters of wood and iron flying.
In the snow mist, the giant beast roared, and Weil raised the red tide banner high, the flag flapping fiercely in the wind and snow.
After circling once, Weil commanded: "Stop!"
The white bear's steps gradually slowed, and it came to a steady halt in front of the shattered shield wall, the armor plates on its chest still emitting white vapor.
A gasp of astonishment erupted from outside the field.
Louis smiled, while the two young guards beside him, Kosa and Grey, watched in stunned silence.
"Do you want to try it too?" Louis asked lightly.
The two exchanged glances and immediately responded, "At your command!"
They awkwardly climbed onto the giant beast's back. The white bear merely shook its fur, as if tolerating children's play.
During the subsequent test rides, it remained stable.
In the wind and snow, laughter and horn calls intertwined, creating a lively scene.
Even after dismounting, Weil was still exhilarated, saluting with a smile: "Sitting on it feels like riding a walking city wall."
Merian looked up at Louis, his voice also carrying unconcealed excitement: "If training continues, it can perform more complex action commands—turning, dodging, coordinated attacks, and even switching rhythms between commands. But it will require time and repeated guidance."
Louis nodded, his gaze falling on the massive white bear, clearly contemplating more possibilities.
In the Northern Territory's military formations, a never-before-seen type of unit had been added.
The white bear was cold-resistant, incredibly strong, capable of charging through snow, and could serve both as an assault vanguard and for hauling heavy objects—
"Approve expanded research, establish the Red Tide Beast Taming Corps, and form the first White Bear Knights Order." Louis decisively ordered, his tone calm but unable to hide his excitement.
He then instructed Bradley to allocate funds and rewarded Merian with a whole chest of gold coins and rare materials.
Merian couldn't help but laugh aloud as he received the reward. A year ago, he hadn't understood the use of gold coins, but now he knew how to make them bring happiness.
