Night had completely fallen, and the gigantic bonfire in the center of Fierce Tide Square was lit.
Flas shot skyward, illuminating the Red Tide banners and casting a red glow on the snow.
Dense figures ford several concentric circles in the square: craftsn, knights, soldiers, rchants, commoners, apprentices... Mary's family stood among the crowd, Irene riding on her father's shoulders, holding a small Red Tide flag.
The light of the flas shone on every face, as if the entire city were burning.
Louis, draped in a Red Tide cloak, walked up the steps, followed by Bradley, Lambert, and several knight representatives.
He wore no dals and had no honor guard; only an ordinary longsword rested beside him.
The mont he appeared, the cheers from the square almost tore through the snowy night.
“Long live Red Tide!”
“Long live Lord Louis!”
“The Red Tide will never be extinguished!”
Cries rose and fell, overlapping into a deafening tide.
Young knights raised their swords in salute, children waved small flags, and the elderly wiped away tears.
The entire city was boiling; those shouts, like a tide, swept out from the heart of the crowd in all directions, lingering for a long ti.
The reason they were so agitated was that this lord had not only allowed them to survive but had also enabled them to live a dignified life for the first ti.
Just a few years ago, many of them were starving in the snow, working as servants in the manors of the old nobility, or fleeing amidst the flas of war.
Now they had warm houses, sufficient food, jobs that paid wages, and schools where their children could learn to read.
To them, all of this should have belonged only to the nobles, yet Louis allowed common people to possess it too.
Because of this, he was not just a lord in their hearts, but more like a sun illuminating the long night.
Furthermore, Louis had not appeared in public for too long; for a whole year, many of them had only seen his na on rumors and announcents. Seeing him now, standing in the firelight, was like seeing a savior.
Louis raised his hand, and the clamor gradually subsided.
Although he had experienced such scenes countless tis, his chest still tightened slightly when he saw the crowd's fervent cheers and the respect shining in countless eyes.
He took a soft breath, cald his emotions, stepped forward, and used magic to project his voice across the night:
“It is spring once again. In the past year, we have had no wars, no famine, and no displacent. This is a great achievent in the Northern Territory.”
Laughter erupted in the crowd, and so people’s eyes reddened.
Louis paused for a mont, his tone firm and powerful: “Your hard work has brought about peace. This is the glory of Red Tide, belonging to , and belonging to every single one of you.
It belongs to those who sweat in the workshops, those who unload cargo at the harbor, and those who never cease working before the furnace fire...”
Applause and cheers erupted again, surging across the square like a tide.
Soldiers raised their swords in salute, craftsn waved their hats, and children’s laughter mingled with shouts, rging into a fervent celebration.
Louis watched all of this, a montary softness flashing in his eyes. He nodded slightly and gestured with his hand, and the applause and shouting were gradually subdued by his calm presence.
At this mont, the clamor of the square seed to be smoothed over by so invisible force, and people's attention gathered once again on the lord.
His voice gradually deepened, yet beca clearer: “I know that many of you have fared well this year, having bread and warm hos.
But in other parts of the Northern Territory, our brothers and sisters are still searching for firewood in the cold wind, still boiling weeds with icy water.
They do not know that there is a city in the Northern Territory called Red Tide, where children can eat hot porridge every day.”
The crowd fell silent, faces under the firelight slightly bowed. Elderly won tightly hugged their children, afraid they would suffer the hardships of the past again.
A heavy emotion perated the air, as if everyone’s past had been reopened.
Pete felt his chest tighten. He thought of the winter his mother froze to death in the cold night; that mory of helplessness still stung.
Louis surveyed the crowd, his tone becoming firm once more: “The significance of Red Tide is not for us to enjoy prosperity alone, but to ensure the entire Northern Territory regains happiness. Therefore, I need your strength.
Tomorrow, the administrative square will post a new spring recruitnt order. We will dispatch new construction teams, new physicians, craftsn, apprentices, and guards to various parts of the Northern Territory to rebuild villages and towns buried by snow. Whoever is willing to go, sign up.”
He raised his hand, pointing toward the dark horizon in the distance: “There are still people waiting for us to bring them sunlight. If Red Tide has a savior, that savior is every person willing to act.
Go! Beco the sun of the Northern Territory and illuminate those still in darkness!”
He gently lowered his hand, his tone returning to calm: “The sunlight of Red Tide should not only warm ourselves.”
The crowd erupted once again in warm applause and cheers; many people were deeply moved by his words.
Mary looked down at Irene, thinking that the child was still too young, otherwise she would go and do sothing too.
Pete stood nearby, his fists clenched, his eyes flashing with the light of determination.
The applause and cheers lasted for a long ti; people's faces were tear-streaked, yet full of smiles.
The firelight flickered, illuminating their faces and the entire square.
The fla, symbolizing hope, swayed in the wind, reflecting the figure of every person.
The night of the Spring Festival reached its most fervent peak at this mont...
On the first morning after the Spring Festival ended, Red Tide City was gently enveloped by spring snow and the lingering warmth of the furnaces.
The streets still held the ribbons and lanterns from the previous night, youths swept up the residual wood shavings in the square, and vendors had set up their stoves; the aroma of bread and hot soup perated the air.
The clock tower chid seven, and the entire city awoke.
White mist rose from the workshop chimneys; the sounds of hamrs, whistles, and vendor cries intertwined; rchants pushed carts through the streets, and the clinking of copper coins was crisp and bright.
Outside the South Gate, the Agricultural Official patrolled along the geothermal canals, where lting snow flowed down the channels.
New spring planting mobilization orders were posted all over the streets; farrs lined up to collect seeds and iron tools, and children helped with the transport, their laughter clear.
This signaled that Red Tide had welcod spring once more: nature was revived, and the city had restarted its operations.
Louis stood by the window on the top floor of the administrative building, looking down at the awakening city.
Although the snow had not fully lted, Red Tide had already begun operating again; furnaces, agricultural canals, harbors, and trading houses—everything was flowing beneath his gaze.
Bradley pushed the door open and entered, carrying a thick stack of docunts and letters, his face wearing the calm expression of soone accustod to being busy.
“A report on the spring planting preparation progress, my Lord.” He placed the docunts on the table.
“Eighty percent of the agricultural canals in the South District and Western Suburbs are open, and two-thirds of the seed distribution is complete. The Agricultural Affairs Departnt has also sent over the supply list, and other territories without geothermal heat have begun preparations sequentially.”
Louis nodded, opened the docunts, and quickly wrote a few notes: “We have done this for so many years; just follow the procedures.”
Bradley then pulled a letter bearing the Azure Tide Guild seal from the stack and handed it over: “This one is the reply from the Azure Tide Guild.”
He knew Louis was concerned not just with the letter itself, but with the attitude behind it.
The reaction of these guilds would determine Red Tide's future standing in international trade routes and alchemy comrce.
Louis took the envelope, his fingers gently rubbing the wave wax seal.
The letter was unfolded; the content was brief, summarizing the following points:
They confird receipt of the mineral samples sent by Red Tide, expressed recognition of the quality of the Northern Territory's resources, and were willing to offer grain, alchemical raw materials, alchemical products, and small chanical equipnt in return.
They requested that all transactions remain non-public, conducted only under the na of the Cold Salt rchant Fleet, and temporarily use direct exchange of goods for goods rather than credit settlent.
If cooperation stabilized, they would dispatch technical consultants and potentially establish a small-scale alchemical processing site.
Layton Fromm would remain as the liaison, and if everything went smoothly in three months, the guild would establish a eting point in Red Tide City to prepare a proposal for deeper cooperation.
The letter concluded with its usual courtesy: “The Azure Tide Guild will not interfere with Imperial or Northern Territory politics and will not get involved in war. We pursue only order and profit.”
Louis closed the letter, his eyes flickering slightly. He generally understood the aning behind the letter: this was not a rejection, but a cautious willingness to cooperate.
The Azure Tide Guild was testing Red Tide's stability. They wanted profit but were unwilling to bet recklessly; they recognized Red Tide's potential but still maintained distance, like reaching out to a fire in cold weather—wanting to get close for warmth, yet fearing being burned by sparks.
Louis chuckled softly: “Cautious rchants.”
Bradley asked: “My Lord, should we reply?”
“Of course,” Louis folded the letter neatly and nodded, then turned to ask: “How many guilds are currently prepared to cooperate with us?”
Bradley replied: “The confird cooperators are the Red Splendor Guild and the Azure Tide Guild. The Starfall Guild has shown strong interest, while other guilds have not yet responded. Furthermore, Earl Harvey has accepted a pilot trade program, running a single route trial.”
Louis smiled slightly: “With no prior groundwork, just a spontaneous invitation, this is already a very good result. It seems I, the new Lord of the Northern Territory, still have so influence.”
Bradley smiled and took out his notebook: “Then, regarding these matters, what are the next steps for the arrangents?”
Louis leaned back in his chair, his tone calm: “First, establish a covert departnt to handle guild affairs. Find reliable people who understand both accounting and discretion.
The principles must be clear: fair division of accounts, both parties retaining a copy of the ledger, no involvent in the buying or selling of people, all contracts subject to Red Tide law, and arbitration authority belonging to Red Tide.”
He gently tapped the desk: “One more point: during negotiations, we must focus on what we lack most—grain, potions, alchemical raw materials, and especially the small alchemical machines that allow the workshops to continue expanding. Even one piece of advanced equipnt can be worth half a workshop.”
Bradley nodded, frowning slightly: “It needs to be discreet, as the Federation is an enemy state after all. If word gets out, it will be difficult to explain not only to the Calvin Family but also to the Imperial Capital. Although everyone is doing it, we cannot be blatant.”
“I know,” Louis's gaze fell upon the window, his voice low, “And Red Tide currently still relies on the Calvin channels. During this transition period, we cannot cut the connection, but we must slowly decouple.”
Bradley flipped through his notebook: “What about the harbor? Dawn Harbor has been very full recently.”
Louis replied: “Dawn Harbor must continue to expand its capacity, and the main harbor needs reinforced loading and unloading lines.
Build two or three more smaller ports near the resource zones to alleviate loading, unloading, and storage pressure. They can also serve as transit points for Federation rchant fleets.”
Bradley pondered and added: “Perhaps we can have the Comrce Departnt and the Port Authority manage them jointly, with layered responsibilities. Publicly, we can say we are expanding storage and transport lines.”
“Very good.” Louis nodded, a faint smile on his lips: “You plan the rest of the specific arrangents. Be steady, and don't attract attention.”
He then opened another docunt and casually asked: “What is the registration status for the Red Tide Support Team?”
Bradley thought for a mont and replied: “The announcent was posted this morning, my Lord. It's just... it's hard to say how many people will register right now.”
... Just as dawn broke, Pete woke up.
He deliberately checked himself in the bronze mirror, smoothed his hair, and put on the uniform newly issued for autumn.
It was the standard attire that Red Tide issued to grassroots officials every winter, but he had only dared to wear it today.
Frugality had long beco a habit, and he always held a cautious thought in his heart.
After all, everything Red Tide had given them was too good—so good that people were afraid of losing it.
The small Civil Affairs Departnt badge pinned to his chest was dazzlingly bright.
Pete looked at himself in the mirror and smiled, feeling that today he looked like a true official.
He left two hours early today, thinking that if he registered early at the square, he might avoid the crowds.
Lord Louis's speech from last night still echoed in his ears; the feeling of excitent kept him awake all night.
The phrase, “The sunlight of Red Tide should not only warm ourselves,” especially burned like fire in his heart.
But when he stepped onto the street, he froze. The street was already packed wall-to-wall with people, their footsteps forming a path in the snow.
People poured in from all directions, discussing animatedly: “I heard this ti it's aid for other territories in the Northern Territory, ordered personally by Lord Louis.”
“They are going to rebuild those villages buried by snow.”
“Then I'll go too! If I can help even a little, my life won't have been wasted!”
Pete was deeply moved as he listened. He also t several acquaintances in the line, all clerks working in the Civil Affairs Departnt, who were joking with each other:
“This ti we can finally do sothing real for the Lord.”
“Exactly! We shouldn't just write ledgers; we need to let others know that people from the Civil Affairs Departnt have passion too.”
They laughed as they walked forward.
Before they knew it, Red Tide's administrative square appeared before their eyes.
The square had been cleaned and leveled, and the snow glistened bright white in the morning light.
Soldiers stood neatly on both sides, wearing the Red Tide emblem on their chests, their gazes straight ahead.
Red banners fluttered and crisscrossed in the wind, imprinted with the familiar sun emblem.
Notice posts stood every few dozen steps; white papers fluttered in the wind, covered with densely written registration regulations.
Pete looked up at the writing, and a sudden warmth surged through his heart.
Today, he could finally do sothing he truly wanted to do.
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