Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 793 - 436: Fear and Belief

Bradley stopped in front of the door, raised his hand to gently push it open, then stepped back, gesturing a brief and restrained “please”.

Varius walked in, the door closing behind him, cutting off the footsteps outside.

The air carried the scent of ink, mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed hot coffee.

There was none of the damp wood smell typical of old nobility’s studies, nor any deliberately cultivated incense.

This place did not resemble a space meant to flaunt one’s status, but rather a workstation ready to operate at any moment.

Varius instinctively took two steps forward.

Three walls were completely covered by enormous parchment maps.

The contour lines on the maps marked ridges and valleys layer by layer, meticulously outlining the direction of the mineral veins, and even indicating seasonal changes in water flow beside the rivers.

In the corners of some areas, there were tiny annotations detailing population density, food production, and labor structure.

Red lines extended from the various provinces, penetrating the maps like blood vessels.

Blue lines intertwined among them, marking the water and geothermal networks.

All lines ultimately converged on a single red dot — Red Tide City.

Varius stood still, not moving any further.

Suddenly, he experienced a vivid illusion; it felt as if he had walked not into a room but into the interior of a vast and intricate machine.

And this room was the brain of that machine.

It was then that he noticed the other side of the wall. It was not a solid wall but an entire expanse of glass.

Through the glass, one could overlook the city below.

Lights spread out during the polar night, and the streets resembled orderly neural pathways.

Crowds moved, convoys traversed, patrolling knights and workers with carts navigated around each other, all functioning in a set rhythm.

There was no chaos, nor was there stagnation.

Varius’ Adam’s apple moved slightly.

This was truly the center of Red Tide, the place that created the new Northern Territory and eventually conquered the entire Gray Rock Province.

Louis stood in front of the map at the center, with his back to the door.

It was a map that occupied the entire wall, the “North Territory Comprehensive Development Map”.

His shirt sleeves were casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing strong and well-defined wrists.

He held a red pen, its tip steadily resting at the junction of Gray Rock Province and Red Tide Territory.

He drew a new line, as if adding the final confirmed trajectory to a plan long formed.

This was the third railway, an artery that would fully integrate Gray Rock into the Red Tide system.

Louis did not turn around but knew someone had entered.

“My lord Varius.” He paused, with a hint of apology in his tone, “Sorry to keep you waiting.

I’ve been busy until now and only just found time to see you. I’ve reviewed the draft amendment to the Civil Law presented by Vic.” Placing the red pen aside, he spoke naturally, “The supplemental provisions in Article VII are very precise.”

Varius took two steps forward, stopping at a long table.

He adjusted his coat slightly and performed an old and restrained gesture of respect.

This was neither the courteous exchange between nobles nor the genuflection of a vassal to a monarch; it was a salutation used only among scholars and true wise men.

“Sir.” Varius’ voice was deep, yet carried an irrepressible excitement, “Those legal articles are but the work of a patchwork artisan, hardly worth mentioning.

What truly kept me sleepless throughout the night were all the things I’ve witnessed in your city over the past few days.”

He raised his head, his gaze locking onto Louis: “I saw honest bakers, saw miners who instinctively lined up to wash their hands, and also saw children with light in their eyes.

In the Old Empire, such order existed only in the pages of a saint’s book.”

Varius’ speech gradually quickened, as if seeking an answer: “I don’t understand, how did you accomplish this? Was it your noble character that inspired them?

Or did you tirelessly preach to them about morality and honor, cleansing their originally savage souls?”

His gaze was almost fervent, this wasn’t deliberate flattery, but rather the answers he found along his journey and during his days in Red Tide.

At that moment, he even forgot about identity and distance, wanting only to confirm one thing…

Was this young lord before him the moral saintly monarch he had searched for all his life?

Louis did not answer immediately; brief silence spread throughout the room.

Then he seemed to hear something slightly amusing and gently shook his head.

Louis turned around, casually tossing the red pen onto the table: “Clap.”

His deep-set eyes calmly observed Varius, without any trace of joy from receiving praise.

“Viscount Varius.” His tone was neither heavy nor slow but direct and crisp. “They abide by rules, speak truthfully, and understand politeness, perhaps because I taught them morality, but I don’t think it’s the main reason.”

Louis walked to the table, picking up a piece of bread meant for a late-night snack.

He didn’t eat; he simply held the bread aloft.

“Merely because…” he paused for a moment, “I fed them.”

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, and Varius clearly paused.

This answer was unlike any explanation he had anticipated, momentarily throwing off his train of thought.

“Politeness is a flower that blooms on wheat stalks. When a person is hungry enough that their stomach walls contract, and the child in their arms cries, honor, law, and virtue are but waste paper.

For half a piece of moldy bread, even the most devout believer would turn into a beast.