The coronation ceremony proceeded very quickly.
With just a word from Louis, "Keep it simple," all the tedious steps were eliminated.
There was no Dragon Ancestor priest reciting poetry, no long procession, and even the planned celebratory feast was directly canceled.
This made Bradley frown deeply; in his eyes, this was a new milestone for Red Tide, deserving of a grand celebration.
Yet even with his dissatisfaction, he only murmured a few words of advice, ultimately sighing in acceptance.
Of course, apart from Bradley, there was no opposition within Red Tide City; all the civil servants, knights, and even the populace supported Louis’s decision unconditionally.
As for the officials sent by the Imperial Capital?
Their gazes frequently fell on Camille; as long as Camille remained silent, they dared not raise any objections.
The truth was, Camille had no courage to resist at that mont.
Whatever Louis instructed, he would follow obediently.
Even with no celebration dinner prepared, Camille did not utter a word of complaint, instead sighing in relief.
The sooner it ended, the sooner he could leave this suffocating city.
On the morning of the second day of the ceremony, Camille took his leave.
He gave the reason that he still had to proceed to the Fourth Prince’s station to announce his rewards and his identity as the "Special Envoy for Northern Territory Reconstruction."
Louis did not ask him to stay, only giving a faint smile and waving him off.
The carriage bumped and jolted over the snow-covered mountain road.
Camille leaned against the soft cushion, cold sweat yet to dry completely.
The scenes from this journey replayed repeatedly in his mind.
The severed head, the thunderous shouts... all transford into fear that tightened his breath.
But he had, after all, risen through the ranks of the Imperial Capital’s bureaucracy, and his mind quickly began working.
Fortunately, Louis did not tear the veil outright, which ant he still had value; as long as there was value, he could survive.
Thinking of this, he slowly exhaled a breath and his gaze gradually colded: "Well... since Louis needs , I will pretend to be compliant.
Perhaps when I see the Fourth Prince, there will be a way out. Now, with the Empire’s complicated situation, soone will surely need a pawn like ."
After all, there were already rumors in the Imperial Capital that the new twin stars of the Northern Territory were Red Tide Louis and Fourth Prince Astha.
Since Red Tide City could beco so prosperous, the Prince Astha naturally wouldn’t be faring poorly either.
Camille’s heart still trembled, but he forcibly used this calculation to cover himself with a paper-thin armor.
The carriage continued towards the distance, the wind and snow roaring outside, the world desolate.
......
Frost Dragon Territory—the domain of the Fourth Prince.
The disaster of the Barbarian Race had passed for over half a year, and plus of smoke rose scattered over the originally charred ruins.
Next to the crumbling city walls, new wooden houses sprang up, and in the barren land, so began replanting, despite the dismal harvest.
Conditions here remained harsh, yet Astha did not give up.
He personally oversaw the coordination, gradually propping up the territory, gathering a new group of refugees by his side.
The main challenge still was food and supplies.
Initially, Red Tide City sent so grain and cloth to help him through the imdiate famine.
But ever since he was appointed as the Special Envoy for Northern Territory Reconstruction, support from Red Tide noticeably dwindled.
His subordinates grumbled that Red Tide was deliberately suppressing the Prince.
Yet Astha did not get angry; instead, he showed so gratitude.
"Among the nobility, it’s always a bloody scramble for power. To have any support at all, Louis has already been quite generous."
Moreover, the Imperial Capital had promised that before winter arrived, a large shipnt of supplies would reach his territory for his allocation.
These supplies would be his opportunity to turn things around, alleviating food shortages and winning support from the nobility.
So when the transport convoy finally arrived at Frost Dragon Territory, Astha stood before the warehouse, watching the goods being slowly unloaded, with a hint of expectation in his heart.
But when he personally walked into the warehouse, his hope was instantly shattered.
The grain stockpiled in the warehouse was only a small portion of what he had anticipated.
"What... what’s going on?" Astha murmured to himself, his gaze growing increasingly grim.
He had expected the supplies to be skimd off by officials in the Imperial Capital, for the nobility never forego any chance for graft.
However, he had not anticipated that the amount of grain reaching Frost Dragon Territory would be so small...
A few hundred sacks of grain, enough to feed only a few hundred people for a few days, and the rest was just so old cloth and boxes of what seed to be already moldy jerky.
The majority of the goods in the warehouse had almost no value.
"What’s the aning of this?!" Astha turned his head, his face grim, coldly questioning the person in charge of the transport, "Is this the sizable shipnt you promised?"
The person in charge lowered their head, not daring to et his gaze: "Your Highness, it’s just that... just that problems arose during transport. The Northern Territory roads were blocked, and many supplies couldn’t arrive smoothly..."
At this, Astha’s fury burned even more, almost unable to resist grabbing him by the collar.
His ntor, Sai Fu, stepped forward, speaking calmly: "Your Highness, please remain calm."
Astha spun around fiercely, his eyes full of despair and anger: "Calm? How should I stay calm? Can these worthless things sustain through a winter? This food isn’t even enough to feed half the people of Frost Dragon Territory!"
Sai Fu analyzed calmly: "There truly were issues with the transport. First, there are indeed obstructions in Northern Territory channels.
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