Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 688 - 391: The Art of Negotiation

Wind and snow battered the dome of Earth Tower Castle, creating a low hum.

The study was illuminated solely by wall lamps, with the air warmed by black tea's aroma.

Louis reclined in the curved chair, browsing the newest issue of the "Red Tide Daily".

Its rough pulp paper retained a subtle wood shaving smell, featured a neat layout, and displayed crisp handwriting.

Despite the subpar paper quality, the editorial team had evidently invested significant effort.

Red Tide's push for literacy education and night schools had swiftly boosted the count of literate individuals.

Louis then instructed the Department of Education to launch a newspaper packed with local news and straightforward tales.

This rough paper sufficed to deliver the freshest updates from the Northern Territory, the Empire, and beyond to common folk.

While elite periodicals had long circulated among nobles in the Jade Federation and Empire's upper classes, low literacy ensured ordinary people never glimpsed them.

Red Tide marked the world's first instance of delivering writing to the masses.

Louis advanced literacy not for self-improvement but to fuel future production.

He understood that while the illiterate could labor, they couldn't grasp procedures, recognize symbols, or interpret workshop blueprints.

In Red Tide, literacy alone qualified one for roles as craftsmen, recorders, low-level officials, or military officers.

Literacy served as Red Tide's initial barrier to system entry.

For Red Tide to grow, construct, and eventually unite the Northern Territory, empowering the masses with reading and writing was essential.

Only rule-knowers would comply willingly, and only system-understanders would defend it proactively.

A knock sounded at the door.

Bradley stepped in, clutching several documents: "Sir, the new castle's primary framework has steadied, set for completion by next autumn."

Louis kept his gaze down: "Did Emily and the rest visit there again today?"

"They headed there this afternoon." Bradley gave a faint smile, "They show more concern for the new castle than you."

Louis set aside the newspaper, glanced up, and inquired, "What’s the Imperial Capital envoy Sorrell been doing lately?"

This marked Louis's first proactive query since Sorrell's arrival over ten days prior.

Bradley relayed accurately: "He wanders the city by day. He lingers longest at the shelter and administration hall. On the seventh night, he dispatched two High-tier Knights attempting East District access."

Louis arched a brow: "Did they manage to approach?"

"No," Bradley replied steadily, "patrols halted them before the second fencing layer. Since then, he's acted with greater caution."

Louis let out a soft chuckle.

"Yet from that day, he began bribing guesthouse servants and cooks with gold coins," Bradley went on. "Not for military secrets, but to uncover your tastes—like preferred wines, favored dishes, or... women you like."

Louis rubbed his forehead, appearing entertained: "He’s investing real effort."

"I had the servants fabricate details," Bradley noted casually.

Louis chuckled, "Good enough. Let them pocket some coin. Seems he’s opting for flattery."

He rose, grasped the black tea, and halted briefly by the window.

Beyond, fierce winds and snow veiled the castle lights in mist.

"Time has come." Louis hesitated, "Inform him I braved the snow to return. Though exhausted, for the Second Prince’s sake, I’ll meet him right away. Allow twenty minutes for prep."

"Yes, Sir." Bradley took the order and departed.

Silence reclaimed the study as Louis returned his focus to the table's newspaper.

Truthfully, he hadn't ventured a single step outside Red Tide Territory.

The motive for avoiding Sorrell was straightforward: prolong his stay in the city to witness Red Tide's true face firsthand.

And the awaited gift stood prepared.

......

Lord’s Mansion, main conference room.

Its sparse decor approached austerity for a Northern Territory Lord, save for the massive Northern Territory map dominating the wall.

Louis Calvin shoved open the sturdy oak door and marched inside.

He donned neither the fancy noble attire Sorrell envisioned nor force-symbolizing armor, merely a plain dark gray heavy coat.

A sharp chill rushed in with him, swiftly clearing the room's thick Southern incense.

"Sir Sorrell! Apologies for the delay!"

Louis’s tone rang cheerful and inviting. He bypassed the head seat, hurrying to Sorrell and gripping his hand firmly.

"Heavy snow outside blocked the Ice River path; I couldn’t break free sooner. Bradley didn’t mistreat you, right?"

Louis beamed like the honest boy next door, eyes full of real regret.

Sorrell froze briefly under this abrupt warmth.

Over the last ten days, he’d witnessed the industrial zone’s overwhelming output, the shelter’s refugee-processing like clockwork, and an Extraordinary Knight guarding the entrance.

He’d pictured Red Tide’s lord as a menacing, brutal tyrant exuding dread power.

Yet this youth, handsome aside, seemed far too... normal.

Precisely this jarring difference pierced Sorrell with profound chill.

A tiger’s roar signals its hunger for you.

But a tiger grinning human-like, draping its paw over your shoulder warmly—that hides its true aims forever.

"I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare." Sorrell swiftly pulled back his hand, bowing low, "An honor to meet you, Your Excellency."