Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 462 - 292: Entrusting an Orphan

Chapter 462: Chapter 292: Entrusting an Orphan

“The Emperor of the Empire has disappeared?” Louis stared intently at those lines of intelligence, the muscles by his eyes twitching slightly.

Then, due to the weakness from a long sleep, he almost couldn’t stand straight, his shoulder slumped, nearly hitting the bronze mirror.

“Thud.”

A soft sound echoed in the washroom, not loud.

But Lambert, outside the door, heard the noise immediately and became alert: “My Lord? What happened to you?”

“It’s nothing.” Louis mustered a bit of strength to reply.

He leaned against the sink, took a deep breath, and waved away the intelligence panel.

The blue semi-transparent screen faded like ripples, returning the washroom to silence.

“Before knowing the truth, I can’t make judgments based on a few pieces of intelligence.” He murmured, “Just remember it for now.”

A moment later, Louis adjusted his disheveled collar and pushed the door open to leave.

Lambert, who was waiting outside, came up to him immediately upon seeing him come out: “You… you don’t look well.”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Louis rolled his eyes, though his tone carried a familiar lightness, “I’ve been unconscious for five days, not looking bad would be strange.”

“Indeed, the doctor said it was just exhaustion, nothing internal. But being out this long… is a bit strange.” Lambert said worriedly.

“I know you’re concerned.” Louis patted Lambert’s armored arm, his tone weary, “But my waking up means I’m not dead, nor am I dying.

Let’s eat, I haven’t eaten in a few days, and it feels like my soul has hollowed out.”

Soon, the food from the kitchen was laid out on the temporarily arranged long table.

After all, even during this special time right after the Northern war, who would dare to slight Louis?

Golden dishes, silver-rimmed bone spoons, half-cooked venison, white beans drizzled with herb sauce, and a pot of light malt spirit.

For most disaster-stricken people, these are luxuries from paradise, but for a Lord, they are reasonable and necessary.

Louis, while chewing on the meat, casually instructed, “Please have someone inform Duke Edmund that I will personally visit later to express my gratitude.”

“…Yes.”

“Also, tell the doctor to stop lingering at the door. I’m not a corpse now.” He bit off a corner of the crispy edge, “Besides, I know my body best.”

Lambert smiled wryly but continued to stand steadfastly at his side and slightly behind, not daring to relax in the slightest.

………

The heavy door at the end of the corridor slowly opened in the cold wind, Lambert whispered to the guards and then stepped back, leaving Louis to step into the study alone.

The door closed behind him, sealing off the chill from outside.

Instead of paintings, the walls were adorned with rolled-up battle maps and a profusion of military and political documents, the red ink and pen strokes overlapping in a mottled array.

The air was thick with the rich scent of spirits and the astringency of herbs, the bitterness almost sweet.

Duke Edmund, Governor of the North, sat behind the desk, draped in a plain gray robe, devoid of noble adornments, his long hair tied at the back with just a hemp rope.

His right hand supported a wooden staff wrapped in white cloth, veins like vines beneath his pale skin, pulsing like some form of countdown.

Even though he had prepared himself, Louis was still taken aback.

The man who once dominated the wind and snow, subduing three armies with a roar, now seemed only to have a hollow shell burned by the flames of war.

“You look more spirited than I imagined.” Edmund lifted his eyes, forcing a smile, “I thought you might be unconscious for a week.”

“Thanks to you, just a bit tired,” Louis replied with a steady tone.

“That’s good.”

Edmund slowly poured a cup of wine for each of them, the action much slower than usual, almost spilling it as he gripped the jug.

Once Louis accepted the drink, he got straight to the point, “The doctor says I have half a year to live.”

The wine cup trembled lightly in the firelight.

Louis’ movement paused, and his brows unconsciously furrowed.

Though he already knew through the Daily Intelligence System before coming, he had to act as if he had just learned.

He was silent for a few moments, taking a sip without speaking.

Edmund picked up his cup, his gaze passing over the flames to fall on Louis, seeming to look through his facade of composure, trying to see his inner thoughts.

He spoke in a low voice, like carrying the fatigue of a thousand miles of wind and snow: “After the war, everything is in ruins, and I… can no longer hold on. I want to know, what are your thoughts on its future?”

The flames flickered incessantly, casting shadows on Louis’ face.

He didn’t respond immediately, as if seriously pondering, or choosing the right words.

A moment later, he spoke softly, “I’m still young, not one with the talent to achieve great things. Such a question, forgive me, is hard to answer carelessly.”

Edmund stared at him for two breaths, then suddenly smiled: “You don’t need to act for me.”

His tone resembled an elder seeing through the tricks of a youngster.

“What you did during the Red Tide, not everyone could. During the plague, you stabilized the order of the territory. During the winter disaster, you opened the granaries to aid the people, and restructured the military. Before the invasion of the Barbarian Race, you reorganized the Red Tide Knights, and at the critical moment, personally went to the front lines, changing the outcome with fewer than two hundred men.”

He put down the wine cup, his fingers lightly tapping the rim, “It’s not that you can’t think about it, you just don’t want to say it.”

Louis smiled slightly, unperturbed: “If I said it was all due to luck, the Duke probably wouldn’t believe me.”

“Of course not.” Edmund sighed, fatigue mingled with a trace of relief in his eyes, “The Northern Territory doesn’t lack knights, doesn’t lack nobility, it lacks someone like you, who is clear-headed and can be ruthless.”

“…If the Northern Territory really were entrusted to me,” Louis paused, speaking seriously, “I would treat it with caution, first restoring the people’s livelihoods…”