When Louis returned to the Red Tide Territory, the setting sun was already low, casting a crimson glow on the layers of stone bricks, warm and familiar.
And as Louis stepped through the gates of the Lord's Castle, the hint of fatigue in his heart quietly faded away.
Before he could say anything, Emily rushed over and embraced him tightly.
"Welco ho."
Her voice was soft, yet it carried unconcealed joy and a hint of long-suppressed grievance.
Louis paused for a mont, then chuckled softly as he hugged her back, leaning down to whisper in her ear: "I'm ho."
Before he finished speaking, he smoothly scooped her up into his arms.
"Ah—" Emily let out a soft gasp, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
A faint blush spread across her cheeks, but she didn't struggle, instead burying her head in his shoulder, her breathing light.
The two returned to their familiar bedroom, and the next few hours were, naturally, a session of hot production.
The curtains swayed gently in the evening breeze, and that familiar blue-haired figure undulated in the dim light, their breathing like a Qin, their rhythm like the tide.
There were no affected greetings between them, nor any need for feigned reminiscence.
Only that unspoken trust and tacit agreent, like perfectly-placed charcoal in the deep night, igniting with a touch yet without impatience.
Until late into the night, when the curtains were drawn and the firelight dimd.
Emily lay with her upper body resting on Louis's thigh, lazily nibbling a dried fruit to replenish her energy, her hair splayed out, her posture as languid as a well-fed cat.
"Are you done with your business over there?" Emily asked softly, her tone steady with a hint of fatigue.
She was referring to the Wheat Wave Territory matter.
Louis humd lightly in response, his fingers running through her hair, fiddling with it for a mont: "Spring ploughing and the granary are all taken care of, just waiting for the harvest, and this trip also had so unexpected gains—"
"Oh?"
"We discovered an ancient tomb in the Fissure Hills north of Wheat Wave Territory."
Emily's eyes widened instantly, and she was about to look up, but Louis gently pressed her back down with one hand.
"Let finish first," he said with a smile, continuing, "That tomb should be so kind of early Snow Country sacrificial ruin.
The interior has been long affected by magic, forming a natural growth area for Shadow Moss, and there were also over sixty Soul-Devouring Lizard Beast."
Emily stared at him for a few seconds, then finally burst out laughing, leaning her head back against him, her eyes full of tender indulgence: "Really—you're not just a Lord, you've also moonlit as a tomb raider?"
"You haven't heard the important part yet."
"What's the important part?"
"Shadow Moss."
Louis briefly explained the characteristics of Shadow Moss to her, from its catalytic effect on fighting spirit and will, to its potential as a ntal interference device and breakthrough auxiliary agent.
He spoke very concisely, but every sentence was enough to make any noble's blood boil.
And Emily was, of course, no ordinary person.
She listened with wide eyes, staring at him: "You an—you dug up a treasure trove that can enhance a knight's fighting spirit?"
"That's pretty much it."
"You say it so calmly," she chided him with a glance, "This is a crucial material for knights to break through! How many people beg for it and can't get it! If it were any other Lord, this kind of thing would at least be kept as a territorial secret for ten or twenty years."
Louis curled his lips, smiling confidently: "And this thing is nothing to ."
"Hmph, I praise you and your tail starts wagging to the sky. Do you want a reward then?" Emily's smile was ambiguous, her fingers mischievously sliding down his abdominal muscles.
The atmosphere instantly beca ambiguous again.
But Louis imdiately held her hand, sighing helplessly: "Let rest for a while."
"Pfft." Emily was amused, her eyes curving into crescent moons, and she leaned back onto his lap, "Then I'll wait for you to slowly recover."
She rubbed her face, then lightly patted his thigh, her tone changing as she beca serious: "Let's talk business. During your absence, the Red Tide Territory has been quite stable."
"Spring ploughing went smoothly?" Louis, while stroking her hair, returned to a Lord's mindset. "Very smoothly." Emily nodded, hugging a pillow, "All our fields here have been demarcated.
The irrigation canals, drainage system, and magical temperature control haven't had any major problems.
Those few plots in the geothermal area have also been converted to greenhouse cultivation. Although it was a bit troubleso at first, the experienced old farrs of the Red Tide Territory barely wasted any ti."
She paused, a hint of pride in her eyes: "Now the second batch of sowing has begun, and parts of the first batch have already sprouted. If the temperature remains stable, we can harvest two weeks early.
Bradley said that as long as this year's autumn grain is normal, we will beco the top grain-producing territory in the Northland."
Emily shifted her body slightly, finding a more comfortable position, her head still resting on his leg.
"However, there was one troubleso matter while you were away."
"Hmm?"
"The population issue," she said softly. "Although most of the refugees were dispersed and resettled in Wheat Wave Territory, so still remained in the Red Tide Territory proper.
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Louis remained silent, his fingertips gently tracing her hair, signaling her to continue.
"Most of these people fled from the northern insect plague and severe frost disaster areas. They brought old and young, and had no special skills. In the early stages, we opened up grain relief, and they were indeed grateful. But as ti went on, problems began to surface."
"The original residents started complaining?"
"It's not open conflict," Emily's voice was steady, "It's just so rumors, like the relief lasting too long, or land being squeezed, or habitual thieves mixing into the hiring grounds. These words are still hidden, but they are spreading nonetheless."
"I understand." There was no bla in Louis's tone, only a faint statent, then he leaned down and kissed her forehead, as if to soothe her worries.
"These refugees are only temporarily gathered. Next, I will continue to establish two to three more densely populated territories outside the Red Tide Territory, specifically for 'digesting' the post-disaster migrating population."
His tone was calm, his thoughts clear: "We are not just taking them in; we are re-integrating them into order.
So I plan to establish an 'Immigration Dispatch Office' specifically responsible for population migration, registration, and resettlent."
"You've already thought of the na?"
"Of course."
"Oh, you—" Emily chuckled helplessly, raising a hand to poke his chin, "Are you planning to create another governnt office that can control everything?"
"It's a must." Louis sat up a bit, his eyes becoming serious: "Our current grassroots structure in Red Tide is still stuck in the old small town model.
But what will we be like in another year? Besides the main Red Tide Territory, there will be several other territories established. Plus port developnt and the influx of southern caravans—this is going to beco a true hub city."
Emily listened thoughtfully: "You plan to transform Red Tide into a city?"
"A city in the true sense." Louis nodded. "Village settlents should exit the stage of history.
Our Red Tide Territory must beco the true administrative center of the Northland's Southeast."
Emily looked at the ambition gradually burning in his eyes, and her gaze softened a few degrees.
She knew that this man, seemingly still lazily nestled beside her, was already planning the next rise of land and the reconstruction of order in his mind.
"You really are already ahead."
"And you?" Louis leaned down, his forehead almost touching hers, his voice low and hoarse, like flas licking an earlobe in the night, "Are you willing to keep up?"
Emily looked up at him.
His eyes, in the dim light of the bedroom, showed a familiar weariness, yet also held a reassuring persistence.
She had seen him sit coldly in a corner of the council hall, toying with various old foxes; she had seen him stand on the burning snow plains, commanding the Red Tide Knights to surround the hive; she had also seen him in a cloak, inspecting the granary in the valley rain at midnight. But only at this mont, with the genuine and dependent look in his eyes, was this man at his most beautiful.
Emily smiled.
Not the standard noble lady's smile, but a sly, fox-like grin.
"That expression of yours... is a bit sly," her hand gently stroked his waist, then slowly slid down, her fingertips brushing against his soft spot: "Of course I'm willing... but you need to recover first, Lord?".
Louis's tired eyes instantly sharpened, and his Adam's apple subtly bobbed.
Four hours of hot production had already left him quite exhausted, and he had intended to call a truce for the day, but this woman chose to strike precisely when he was most relaxed, hitting him where it hurt.
However, he was not one to give up so easily.
Louis chuckled softly, his eyes regaining their sharpness, like a rekindled fire: "It seems my rest will have to be postponed for a while."
Outside the window, the sky was faintly brightening, and a new day was quietly beginning.
The morning sunlight stread into the bedroom through the half-open curtains, casting dappled light and shadow onto the bed.
Under the thick duvet, Louis uncharacteristically did not get up imdiately.
He lay half-reclined on the bed, one hand casually resting on his forehead, staring blankly at the ceiling, or rather, enjoying a rare mont of emptiness.
This was a long-awaited lie-in for Louis, and he was a little reluctant to get up.
He turned his head; Emily was sleeping soundly, curled up on his chest.
Her hair was disheveled, and there were still traces of sweat under her eyelashes. Her breathing was shallow, and she looked exceptionally tired.
She had indeed put all her effort into last night's battle.
Louis looked down at her, a smile appearing in his eyes.
But he made no sound, afraid to wake her, only gently raised his other hand and waved it.
The Daily Intelligence System opened, but today's updated intelligence entries were all insignificant.
"It's quiet today." Louis scanned through them, found nothing worth highlighting, and then dismissed the interface with a flick of his hand.
He didn't rush to get up, but instead sat quietly cross-legged on the bed, closing his eyes to breathe, beginning his daily routine of "dual cultivation of fighting spirit and magic."
The Tidal Breathing Technique slowly circulated, and the qi flow within his body moved through his ridians, washing over his internal organs and periosteum like waves, gradually clearing away the lingering fatigue from last night.
About two hours later, he slowly opened his eyes.
"It's about ti to get up," he said, turning his head to lean down and gently kiss Emily's forehead.
Emily was still fast asleep, only stirring slightly and instinctively rubbing against his arm, as if habitually confirming Louis was still there.
"Sleep, you've worked hard." Louis said softly.
Sunlight spilled onto his strong shoulders and back, his muscles smoothly defined, his ntal state already restored to normal.
Outside Red Tide Castle, the wind still carried a biting chill.
Although it was already spring, spring in the Northland always arrived slowly. The sky was still sowhat gray, the snow on the mountains had not fully lted, and occasionally there was frost reflecting on the ground.
Louis walked out of the main building, cloaked, holding his gloves but not yet putting them on.
He took a slight breath of cold air, allowing the earthy-slling air to fill his lungs: "...It's still cold."
After a brief stroll within the Red Tide Territory, he found that it had been completely transford compared to two months ago.
Even though he had been absent for a while, the overall progress hadn't lagged at all.
But he knew that the larger Red Tide beca, the less he could let go of its managent.
Too many matters, ultimately, still required him to personally set the policies and make the final decisions, especially those for future layouts.
Louis pondered for a mont where to begin today's work and finally decided to prioritize the "Shadow Moss and Lizard Beasts Plan."
Such strategic resources were not suitable for being left too long, nor were they suitable for others to handle.
So he stepped towards Silco's laboratory.
It was still a ss here; upon entering, the floor was covered with tal casings, burnt crucibles, and twisted pipes of unknown function.
In the corner hung a half-burnt iron bird doll, still sputtering smoke.
"Long ti no see, Lord." Silco leaned against the workbench, one hand holding a stirring rod, the other spinning a small black crystal between his fingers.
He had ssy short hair, wore a white alchemist's robe, and the graffiti-covered scarf around his neck was rumored to have never been washed.
Louis chuckled, ignoring his disrespect, and casually pulled over a chair to sit down, placing a package of moss specins on the table.
"Do I have new work?" Silco's expression instantly beca serious. "What is this?"
"Shadow Moss." Louis tapped the package. "If you can figure out semi-artificial cultivation, I'll build you an alchemy tower."
"Deal." Silco grinned, his eyes already fixed on the moss specins.
Then Louis took out a thick small box from inside his cloak, opened it, revealing a thumb-sized deep purple crystal core within.
The magical crystal's outer shell was smooth as glass, while its interior faintly revealed vortex-like ntal fluctuations, as if countless whispers were intertwined within it.
He gently placed the crystal core in front of Silco, his tone calm yet sharp: "This is a magic crystal extracted from the body of a Soul-Devouring Lizard Beast."
"How should this be used?"
He extended two fingers, speaking while looking into Silco's eyes:
"First, a deterrence bomb. Upon explosion, it can create a powerful 'fear domain' in a localized area, disrupting the enemy's command system and psychological defenses.
Second, an interrogation device. Utilizing its illusionary interference properties, it can induce suspects to imrse themselves in their greatest fears. Their psychological defenses will collapse, no torture needed."
After speaking, Louis said faintly: "These are just the basic uses I've thought of; subsequent derivative designs are up to you."
Silco, the bomb fanatic, seed excited, licking his lips as he looked down at the magic crystal again: "Understood, Lord. Give a month, and I'll let the entire Northland know what a Red Tide-style fear strike is."
"While the research on this is important," Louis's tone shifted, "the more crucial thing is breeding."
Silco paused: "You an—?"
"I want a sustainable resource supply." Louis walked to the window, his hands behind his back. "One-ti spoils of war are not Red Tide's goal. We want a system."
"Shadow Moss and Soul-Devouring Lizard Beast, one is a natural catalyst for ntal fighting spirit, the other is a controllable weapon for ntal interference. They were originally just hazards.
Now, they must beco Red Tide Territory assets. They must be trainable, collectible, cultivable, and standardizable for use."
He turned back to Silco: "I want you to assemble a team. Bring the alchemists, apothecaries, breeders, and beast tars who know a bit about ntal conditioning that you trust, and move to that underground cave in northern Wheat Wave Territory."
"That's a natural greenhouse, a closed ecosystem, with a stable spiritual environnt, and it can self-produce magic fluctuations. It's currently the ideal 'symbiotic magical plant-magical beast research facility' in the Northland." Louis was expressionless, "When you renovate the laboratory, you'll also set up the breeding grounds."
"...Alright." Silco sighed, "Although I don't like moving, since you've personally nad it—I'll consider it a vacation."
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