Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 464 - 293: Make the Northern Territory Great Again
Chapter 464: Chapter 293: Make the Northern Territory Great Again
The council hall of Frost Halberd City is like the heart of a wounded beast, beating slowly amidst the embers of war.
This hall, serving as the political center of the Northern Territory, has a deep gray dome, resembling dense clouds looming overhead.
The walls are adorned with the silver eagle banners of the Edmund Clan, standing alongside the Empire’s golden dragon banners, symbolizing an order yet precariously fragile.
Duke Edmund, draped in a gray robe, leans half-heartedly against his chair, his pale fingers gripping a wooden staff tightly.
Though he remains authoritative, his physical appearance can no longer conceal the signs of death.
Sitting to his right is Louis Calvin, clad in a Red Tide cloak.
He wears a smile, his gaze falling on each attendee warmly, as if using that tranquility to quell the unease in the room.
The meeting has yet to begin, but the air is already heavy as lead.
Everyone knows today marks a pivotal moment in the Northern Territory’s power shift.
Edmund slowly stands with the aid of his staff, his voice not loud yet everyone listens intently: “Gentlemen, thank you for still being here.”
His gaze sweeps across those seated: there are representatives of the old Northern nobility with graying hair, the weary-looking Gareth from the military department, the watchful Inspector Mei Si from the shadows, the reserved southern pioneer nobles, and the Six Prince Astha, with prominent dark circles under his eyes…
“This war… nearly annihilated the Northern Territory. The monster legion led by Titus was an unprecedented calamity.
We have lost so much, more than thirty families have been erased from Northern history, our warriors died in bloodshed, civilians lay dead in the streets.”
Edmund lowers his head, sighing softly: “As for the Imperial Capital… the promised disaster relief support will gradually arrive, but more resources and reinforcements still require His Majesty the Emperor’s decision.”
He shifts his tone, bringing forth a grim truth: “Yet now the Emperor has been missing for several days.”
With these words, the entire council hall of Frost Halberd seems swept by a chill, plunging into an instant of dead silence.
In the days that followed, most of these high-ranking officials were already aware of this news, originally bearing unease, now spoken by Edmund himself, they involuntarily held their breaths.
The reaction from the Imperial Capital’s representatives was the most evident, for they knew, should the Emperor truly be missing, these “power parasites” might suddenly fall into oblivion overnight.
In contrast, the native Northern nobility responded with much more indifference.
After all, the Northern Territory has always been distant from the Imperial Capital, they are more concerned with whether the land can be restored, their kin survive, and their fiefs endure.
As for the Six Prince Astha, sitting at the first position on the left, his face turned pale.
He is not a central figure in the royal power struggle, on the contrary, he is one of those princes dispatched to the borders and forgotten.
Becoming the Lord of the North, was merely because His Majesty wanted him as an example to silence others.
He knows his strength is insufficient to seize power in the chaos, but if the Emperor were still alive, he could at least rely on “royal blood” to gain some resources and barely maintain his position.
If the new Emperor, who truly holds power, dislikes or even resents him, what comes next would not simply be a loss of favor, but perhaps retribution.
Even a single decree abolishing his pioneer title would be enough for him to lose all resources, military power, and foothold overnight.
Moreover, alone and unaided in the Northern Territory, should he get caught in a political whirlpool…
He lowers his eyelashes, struggling to conceal the unrest within, yet his pale complexion reveals the inner turmoil.
“Of course.” Edmund, noticing the atmosphere, suddenly smiles as if to ease the mood, “Perhaps His Majesty is merely on a journey and has not yet returned, no need to worry excessively.”
He doesn’t dwell further but tilts his head slightly: “Now, let our young hero chair this meeting. He knows the specifics of the post-war situation better than I.”
Called by name, Louis immediately rises from his seat, and with a composed expression, bows respectfully: “As you command, Duke.”
On one side of the long conference table, several old nobles exchange glances.
They do not hear the word “succession,” yet they all grasp this ceremonial act symbolizing a transfer of power.
The young lord is already beginning to try to take the reins.
Louis does not return to his seat, with a wave of his hand his attendant promptly unfurls a simplified map covering the Northern Territory.
“First,” his voice exudes a steady authority, “is the food issue.”
On the gray and white map, over seventy red-marked symbols indicate locations of granaries.
“Currently, there are seventy-six granaries usable within the Northern Territory, verified to hold less than twenty percent of winter food reserves compared to pre-disaster levels.
This implies that with current reserves alone, spring cultivation is difficult to initiate, and disaster victims cannot all survive.”
As these words fall, low discussions begin to spread among the seating area.
“The relief grain promised by the Imperial Capital has only arrived at thirty percent so far. As for whether the rest will arrive on time and in full,” Louis pauses slightly, glancing at the finance and logistics officials seated at the back, “I am not optimistic.”
“Therefore, I propose that Red Tide and Frost Halberd first allocate surplus grains, prioritizing relief for the seventeen most affected old vassal territories.”
Just as he finishes speaking, another round of commotion erupts, for no one is truly certain who the most heavily impacted are.
Louis then adds with a touch of modesty in his tone: “I am also willing, with Red Tide at the forefront, to provide an additional eight thousand tons of stored grain for allocation across the territory.”
With Louis’ words concluded, the conference hall falls silent again.
“Red Tide is to provide an extra eight thousand tons of surplus grain for allocation across the territory.” This pronouncement strikes intensely at every participant’s heart.
