He raised a piece of paper in his hand with the nas of several nobles written on it, gently shaking it.
"I have decided to establish a new system—’Snow Peak Council’."
Everyone listened, holding their breath involuntarily.
"This council will consist of those among you who are prestigious, capable, and genuinely concerned about the future of Snow Peak County.
You can participate in governing by proposing policy suggestions, reporting on the actual situation of various territories, and assisting in supervising the use of resources."
This surprised many; Louis’s authority had reached its peak, yet he was willing to share power.
Louis’s tone shifted, his expression softened sowhat, and his tone slowed:
"I will gradually confirm the specific list of council mbers. But today, I can first introduce so candidates worthy of your recognition and trust."
He turned and looked at the tall young baron on one side, displaying a smile that carried encouragent:
"For example, Edward Noether."
The hall murmured with discussions, and many nobles glanced at the young man.
"Born into the battlefield family of the Nott Clan, even pioneers from the South are no less brave than the Northern Lords."
Louis’s tone was firm: "And at a young age, already an Extraordinary Knight, he is a rare pillar of the nation."
Edward felt sowhat embarrassed by Louis’s complints, his face slightly flushed, standing up under the gaze of the crowd, he waved lightly to the hall, "Th-thank you, Prefect, thank you everyone."
And Louis was already prepared for the next candidate: "And Roland Sirius."
He looked at the energetic white-haired elder sitting on the other side, "Mr. Roland cos from an old Northern family, known for being courteous, knowledgeable, and familiar with local affairs. He is one of the elders I most respect.
With such a venerable noble presiding, I believe the Snow Peak Council won’t go astray."
Mr. Roland softly coughed, pretending not to care as he waved dismissively, but the smile on his lips was impossible to hide.
He nodded slightly, responding calmly: "If the Prefect truly wishes so, this old man will naturally do his best."
After speaking, he even shyly stroked his beard, secretly observing the reactions around him.
"The third one..." As Louis’s voice fell, many already knew whom he would ntion.
"Yorn Harvey."
"Territory governance is orderly, wealth is abundant, and most importantly, he consistently abides by the county’s laws without overstepping, making him a trustworthy partner."
Before Louis had finished speaking, Yorn stood up abruptly, his smile almost as wide as his face: "I am willing to contribute to Snow Peak County! Working alongside the Prefect is my honor!"
A few individuals led the charge, and the atmosphere had already been thoroughly ignited.
Seizing the mont, Louis steadied his hand gesture, quieting everyone down as he continued: "Of course, this is just the beginning. Everyone present has the potential and qualification to enter the Snow Peak Council."
"This is not a reward, nor an act of charity." His gaze was captivating, every word enunciated, "This is our opportunity to govern Snow Peak County collectively and endure the winter."
A brief silence followed his words, which was then followed by a surge of applause.
Initially, the applause ca from the few prominent nobles in the front row—Yorn, Edward, and the elder Roland Sirius—who began clapping first, their expressions displaying a mix of excitent and pride, seemingly proving they were chosen.
Soon, more people stood up, and the applause echoed throughout the banquet hall like a rare warm stream in the winter snow, rapidly spreading.
Louis’s words were pleasant to hear, making them happy.
But, in fact, the so-called "council" was ultimately just an empty shell.
Its establishnt was rely smoke on the chessboard in Louis’s hands.
On the surface, this was a breakthrough in power-sharing, showing respect and trust from the Prefect towards the nobility.
But, in reality, all ultimate decision-making power, command authority, personnel appointnt authority, and financial allocation power remained firmly in his sole hands.
The etings rely allowed them to feel they had the opportunity to "participate."
A sense of participation, a touch of glory as a sugar coating, was enough to soothe uneasy hearts and satiate vain desires.
Compared to blatant suppression, it was safer and more effective.
And Louis needed only to stand steadily on top, occasionally nodding, smiling, and listening, which was enough.
Louis never promised to truly delegate power.
He simply elevated each noble to seemingly dignified high positions, then let them willingly bow down.
But so minor nobles began to show a sense of loss and disappointnt, their applause not as enthusiastic.
After all, they knew they’d never rotate into the council mbership.
At this mont, Louis spoke again: "I know, not every territory has powerful armies, abundant mineral resources, or enough to be called ’representative’ prestige."
His tone was unhurried, his gaze sweeping over those in the margins, the middle and lower-level nobles who had been silent for a long ti: "But I do not intend to disappoint others."
The hall quieted down again.
"Starting this quarter, I will establish a special plan called the ’Revitalization Fund.’
He paused, his eyes determined, "All nobles with resource-poor, difficult territories, as long as they submit detailed developnt plans, whether it’s mining salt, developing fields, or expanding fur and hunting industries...
As long as it’s reasonable, my Governnt Hall will provide initial materials, technology, seeds, and labor support, and appropriate tax reductions."
Many were already discussing in whispers, surprised that this policy directly targeted lower-level nobles.
"The plan will be personally coordinated by , ensuring fairness, transparency, and lack of interference."
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