The spring sun shone on the river valley; the snow line had only recently receded, and the frozen soil beneath their feet still carried a damp chill.
The air was a mixture of scents: the moist, grassy aroma of turned black earth, the faint, sour sll of bone fertilizer carried on the wind, and the warmth of cooking smoke.
The carriage wheels crunched over gravel, making a slight creaking sound, and slowly ca to a stop beside the main road.
After the eting, Louis did not rush back to Red Tide Main City. Instead, he chose to stay and verify with his own eyes whether the numbers he had heard in the eting were true.
So things cannot be understood from a few ledgers and a single eting.
Wheat Wave Territory's importance now even surpassed any other territory within Red Tide Territory; it was the future granary of the North, and the future life and death of hundreds of thousands of lives depended on it.
Therefore, early the next morning, he brought Green and personally embarked on an inspection tour.
Whether it was new farming techniques, monster beast breeding, or those experintal fields that had not yet taken shape, only seeing them with his own eyes could put his mind at ease.
Louis stepped down from the carriage and squinted, looking out.
Thousands of farrs toiled between the furrows, shouts rising and falling, and the continuous clang of iron plows and shovels.
Green walked beside Louis, clutching a thick sheepskin ledger. Mick followed behind, a smile of unconcealed pride on his face.
“Lord, this area is the core agricultural zone, where most of the new varieties we experinted with last year are located,” Green reported softly as they walked. “Thirty percent of the fields here are equipped with geothermal irrigation pipelines, and the seedling ergence rate is twelve percentage points higher than expected.”
“Hmm.” Louis nodded slightly, bent down, and pushed aside a cluster of seedlings at his feet. The black earth was moist, and the roots were deeply embedded.
The farrs working nearby had long noticed the arrival of their great Lord.
They did not imdiately crowd around, as no one dared to disturb the young Red Tide Lord.
But the hoers, who were already working quickly, suddenly began to turn the soil with almost three tis the force, wielding their hoes at a pace of six per second.
The young water carriers ran incredibly fast, as if they had wings on their feet, and even the rhythm of the shouts from afar seed to quicken by a beat.
Of course, people still couldn't help but occasionally look up at Louis, their gazes filled with fervent light, as if they were looking at a savior.
“Is—is that the Lord?” a new farr this year asked his companion in a low voice, his plow never stopping.
“Hush, don't talk nonsense! Stand tall, chest out, and do your work well,” the old farr next to him reprimanded softly, but his eyes couldn't help but steal a glance.
Louis noticed their gazes, smiled faintly, and stepped towards the nearest furrow.
“The land is tilled well,” he said softly.
The farr's hand, gripping the iron shovel, tightened suddenly. His face turned beet red, and he stamred for a long ti before finally squeezing out a sentence: “Tha—thank you, Lord!”
“Keep up the good work.” Louis patted his calloused shoulder, then turned and left.
The farr stood rigidly in place until Louis walked away, then he abruptly wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“We can't disgrace the Lord.” He took a deep breath, lowered his head again, and wielded his shovel with even greater speed.
At the end of the furrow, a newly constructed geothermal irrigation well stood silently. Its opening was covered by a heavy tal disc, its surface covered with a faint mist, and a subtle warmth was faintly emanating from it.
Louis slowly approached, his long boots sinking gently into the soft, wet black earth. He narrowed his eyes slightly, touching the tal disc with his fingertips, feeling a subtle temperature fluctuation.
Green stood beside him, holding the thick sheepskin ledger, and introduced it with a hint of pride in his voice:
“Lord, this is the geothermal pipe concept you proposed back then, and it is now the third-generation system.
Shallow geothermal water is introduced into the fields through double-layered conduits, maintaining a stable surface temperature of three degrees Celsius above freezing, so frost is no longer a threat.
Furthermore, the artisans have re-engineered it twice, rearranging the pipelines so that heat distribution is more controllable—no longer like in the early days, where half the seedlings were cooked to death.
Now we can even manually adjust the water temperature, warming the fields ahead of ti when needed to ripen crops.
If all goes well, the first batch of green wheat on the north bank's gentle slope this year will be harvested two weeks earlier than usual.”
Louis listened quietly, bending down to push aside a small clump of moist black earth, revealing the newly sprouted green shoots.
“It's maturing much faster than I expected—
He rembered that his initial idea was rely a crude application of “geothermal heating,” at most introducing heat into the soil to prevent frost damage and promote early germination.
He hadn't expected that in just a few short years, these artisans and farrs, working together, would refine the initial idea into a complete system: heat zoning, temperature control valves, and deep and shallow double-layered conduits, far more precise than he had imagined.
They were no longer just executing Louis's orders; they were creating agricultural technology unique to the North.
However, Louis quickly collected his thoughts, his gaze sweeping over the wellhead, and he frowned slightly: “However, Green.”
Green imdiately straightened: “Lord, please instruct.”
“The maintenance of the wellhead tal plate and valves must be more frequent,” Louis raised a hand and pointed to the well rim.
“Although the heat is adjustable, once too many minerals accumulate in the pipes, or the seals age and fail, it will lead to localized soil compaction.
If large areas harden, the entire field will be ruined.”
Green nodded solemnly: “Understood, Lord.”
He turned and instructed the accompanying cultivation record official: “From today onwards, wellhead inspection and pipeline maintenance priority shall be listed as the first order. Patrol and inspect daily; no mistakes are allowed.”
“Yes!” Several record officials responded almost imdiately.
Then the inspection team walked slowly along the field edge to the Southeast of the river valley.
The air was moist and warm, accompanied by a sour, slightly fishy-sweet sll, like the scent of post-snow mud mixed with so strange dicinal liquid.
Turning past a gentle hilly slope, a special cultivated area appeared before their eyes.
The soil here was darker than in other fields, and a grayish-white mist perated the turned furrows.
Several artisans wearing leather masks and protective gloves were operating long-handled wooden spoons, evenly sprinkling a milky-white bone fertilizer slurry into the furrows.
Occasionally, a drop or two would splash up, shimring with a faint blue-white glow in the sunlight.
“Lord,” Green stopped, stepped forward with his ledger, “this is the bone fertilizer enhanced field area that you approved for pilot testing, and it has now been extended to three-tenths of all cultivated land in the territory.”
Louis approached, ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) squatted down, and reached out to push aside a small clump of soil stained with the bone fertilizer slurry.
He could feel a slight warmth, as if the soil itself was breathing.
“This bone fertilizer is made from the boiled bones of Frost Giants. We mix bone marrow with grass ash and Clara powder to create a milky bone slurry. Its nutrient concentration is three tis that of ordinary fertilizer, significantly enhancing crop root strength and grain plumpness.”
As Green spoke, several artisans in the distance were carrying large barrels full of bone slurry, moving cautiously, afraid of wasting even a single drop.
An agricultural alchemist stood nearby, his tone still carrying a hint of emotion: “Initially—it was just an accidental experint in the alchemy workshop. We originally just wanted to see if Frost Giants' bone marrow could be extracted for dicinal purposes.”
He paused, looking with complex eyes at the mountain of skeletons piled up nearby, “Who would have thought that these giants, once rampant in the snowy plains, would beco the best nutrients to revive the land.”
Louis turned his head, and the distant sheds ca into view.
That was a temporary workshop specifically for processing giant carcasses. Skeletons, towering like small mountains, were neatly stacked. Ribs and arm bones had already been cut by artisans, and residual ice crystal tissue removed, awaiting transport to the alchemy boiling vats for further refinent.
The sunlight shone on those pale blue bones, bringing an indescribable chill and awe.
Louis watched silently, a trace of ironic emotion stirring in his heart: “Thanks to Titus—”
Titus had forcibly driven all the Frost Giants south, attempting to crush the North in one fell swoop.
He hadn't expected that this disaster, with Frost Giant bodies everywhere, would instead beco Wheat Wave Territory's most precious treasure.
And he, by virtue of his position as Red Tide Lord, had brought almost all the giant bodies under his control, enough to last for ten years.
Bone marrow could be made into fertilizer to revive barren land, and crushed bone powder mixed with feed could be used to enhance monster beast feed; it was simply turning waste into treasure.
“Continue to expand the use of bone fertilizer,” Louis slowly exhaled, giving a faint instruction, “but rember to mark the boundaries between the bone slurry irrigation areas and the regular areas; do not let them get mixed up.”
Green imdiately nodded, recording the order.
Mick was already eagerly discussing with several agricultural alchemists in low voices, clearly considering how to further increase yield.
After inspecting this territory for a while, Louis and Green continued along the main road towards the experintal fields.
Unlike the bustling, large mature farmlands they had seen before, this area was quiet and cautious, as it was used to test so miraculous items, though these items usually weren't very successful.
Several young alchemy apprentices were kneeling in the mud, holding wooden rulers and ceramic pots, gesturing while carefully sprinkling a layer of fine white powder.
The air was filled with a faint, pungent sll of li.
Green stopped, opened his ledger, and softly explained to Louis: “This is the experintal field for the magic li soil improvent thod. You previously ntioned that the high-altitude wetlands had excessive acidity, which was unfavorable for grain root growth, so the artisans fired white li powder to regulate the soil's pH balance.”
Louis nodded, his gaze falling on a wheat seedling that looked normal but had scorched leaf edges.
Green shook his head slightly, sighing: “It's just that when the amount of ash isn't controlled well, the seedlings get directly 'burned to death.' It still needs more refinent.”
A young alchemy apprentice nearby clearly heard this and stamred: “L-Lord, I'm sorry to have disappointed you.”
Louis smiled, not scolding, but instead gently patted the apprentice's shoulder: “Failure is part of the journey, and you've already done very well.”
Upon hearing this, the young artisan imdiately teared up, as if given a ntal buff: “We—we'll try a hundred more tis! Until we don't burn any more seedlings!”
Louis thought to himself: Are you Edison?
But on the surface, he still offered encouraging smiles: “Keep up the good work.”
Further to the west was an open, hilly slope where the wind howled.
Several artisans were adjusting a tall wooden windmill, its gears creaking.
“This is the third-generation circulatory windmill pump,” Green said, looking up at the windmill's blades. “The principle is to combine hydraulic and wind power, using monsoon winds to drive pumping for irrigation. It was made based on your previous design drafts.”
“Oh?” Louis was slightly surprised, then rembered.
That was two years ago, before Red Tide Territory had established Wheat Wave Territory. Relying on his mories from his previous life, he had casually drawn many things on parchnt, and this windmill was naturally one of them.
In his vague mories from his past life, he could even faintly recall the rotating wind vanes and the scene of water being poured back from a high position.
But the true technical details—the gear shing ratios, torque calculations, and the stress angles of the wind vanes—he didn't understand any of them, as he wasn't a professional engineer.
So he simply drew a few seemingly reasonable cross-section diagrams from mory, marked concepts like 'using wind to drive water' and 'gravity-fed recirculation' next to them, and then handed the parchnt to the artisan district for them to invent and perfect.
As for whether it could actually be built, he didn't have high hopes. But now, a wooden windmill, two stories high, stood before him, its blades slowly rotating, and the faint sound of water coming from the pipes—it still felt sowhat unreal.
Just then, a gust of wind swept by, and the huge wind vanes turned, causing the water in the bottom pipes to gush.
Several artisans imdiately cheered: “It worked! It worked!”
But monts later, the wind shifted, the wind vanes paused, and the sound of water quickly faded.
The smiles on the young artisans' faces imdiately froze.
Green shook his head and whispered to Louis: “The efficiency is still unstable, too dependent on wind power. We are researching other alternative drive solutions.”
But Louis just looked at those young, sweat-streaked faces, a smile appearing in his eyes: “Very good, keep finding solutions, and rember to give extra rewards to the artisans who built this windmill.”
“Yes!” Green imdiately noted it down.
In fact, there were more strange inventions and creations than just these.
Under Louis's planning, Red Tide Territory's Artisan District and Alchemy Research Institute could almost be called the most promising “technical crucible” in the North, or even in this world.
A large number of excellent artisans were recruited with high salaries, while ordinary artisans were trained through an apprenticeship system, with each apprentice guided by a senior ntor.
As ti passed, Red Tide Territory thus acquired a large number of excellent artisans and alchemists.
More importantly, Louis had an almost extravagant policy: as long as soone proposed a new concept or completed a prototype, they would have a chance to receive a gold coin reward, ranging from three gold coins to unlimited amounts.
In such an atmosphere, the artisans pursued invention and creation with almost fanatical zeal.
In addition to the several technologies already demonstrated, the research institute also housed countless bizarre prototypes.
For example, self-heating combat boots for snow, farming tools that mimicked animal hooves and claws, prototypes of semi-finished wind-powered vehicles—and dozens of strange, unnad devices.
So succeeded, so failed.
And so, from the start, were destined to be mad attempts, but Louis never stopped them, even encouraging this kind of creativity.
Agricultural technology was the top priority among these.
Louis's bonus incentives were extrely strong; any idea related to planting, irrigation, or increasing yield, even if it had only a slight chance of success, would be rewarded with almost insane generosity.
For example, the young alchemy apprentice who accidentally discovered Frost Giant bone fertilizer received two hundred gold coins for just one experint, almost fainting from joy.
Since then, Red Tide's artisans and alchemists, like hounds sniffing blood, were drawn to Wheat Wave Territory.
So alchemists traveled from Red Tide City through wind and snow, while so artisans simply moved their entire families to the Wheat Wave River Valley, just to join this “agricultural technology craze.”
It was this permissive encouragent that made the entire Red Tide, especially Wheat Wave Territory, like a constantly gushing spring of inspiration, with new things erging one after another in just one year.
It was as if anyone could propose an unconventional idea here, and then soone would actually be willing to help them make it a reality.
So designed new thods for distilling bone fertilizer, so were researching wind-powered water pumps, and so even proposed using the thermal energy from monster beast carcasses to warm greenhouses.
So were proven feasible, so were laughed at as alchemical nonsense, and others were still waiting for miracles on the paper-strewn experintal tables in the artisan district.
Ideas and sweat intertwined, driving a small technological revolution that slowly unfolded in Louis's territory.
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