CHAPTER 228: CHAPTER 186: AN UNUSUAL BREAKFAST (PART 2)

That was a kind of quiet pride.

She recalled the heartfelt smiles of the people when they spoke of Louis, even referring to him as the Sun of the Northern Territory.

It was something she had witnessed firsthand, just as her father had mentioned, though back then he felt he might have been exaggerating.

And now, her father finally saw it for himself.

Then Duke Demond changed his tone slightly, with a hint of teasing: "Even this castle has made me see it with new eyes."

"The structure is solid, the distribution of the towers is reasonable, the supply routes, watchtowers, and inner halls are well protected, and its appearance is very impressive, quite to my taste..."

Louis widened his eyes slightly.

He was accustomed to others describing the castle as practical and durable, warm as spring inside.

But when evaluating its exterior, it was either called "ugly" or "strange."

This was the first time someone had praised the castle’s appearance to his face.

And it was Duke Edmund.

He instinctively glanced at Emily, only to find her nonchalantly looking out the window, her lips slightly curled as if suppressing something.

"I thought you would find it too unlike a noble castle." He whispered.

"But this is the style of the Northern Territory, isn’t it?" The Duke looked at him meaningfully, then took up his cup and sipped his wine gently.

"However..." Duke Edmund’s gaze returned to the window.

Under the morning mist, the streets of Red Tide City were starting to awaken, with the distant sounds of iron hammering and hoofbeats.

"Although it seems calm here, the situation in the entire Northern Territory... is quite dire." Duke Edmund’s tone shifted, discarding his earlier admiration for the heavy concern of a commander.

"This year, many places have suffered disasters, resources are scarce, rebels, marauders, and conflicts over supply routes are frequent, unrest is unsettled, logistics are in crisis.

Although last year’s purge severely weakened the Snow Swearers, and we initially planned the final battle for fall... I intend to postpone it to next spring."

He spoke calmly, without probing or negotiation, as if updating an already decided order.

Louis didn’t respond immediately, simply lowering his eyes to the pale golden liquid in his cup, his gaze slightly flickering.

To postpone was indeed a reasonable decision for the current Northern Territory.

Stable, cautious, and gradual.

But for him, it was not good news.

What flashed in Louis’ mind was that vague and oppressive warning from the daily intelligence system.

That unverifiable message, that warning from the future.

[The evil being nurtured by the Snow Swearers is stirring, and this crisis will sweep the entire Northern Territory this winter, no less than the great rebellion two years ago.]

He tightened his grip on the cup handle but couldn’t bring himself to speak.

The Duke was unaware, at least not yet.

After all, Louis still couldn’t persuade anyone with "intelligence from a mysterious system."

Moreover, his intelligence was limited, and revealing it might mislead the Duke’s judgment.

He could only wait, wait for more clues to surface, wait for the contours of that winter crisis to really become clear...

Louis had a hunch that perhaps... the Nest hidden in the dark valley was the "nurtured evil" mentioned in the warning.

He noted this privately.

But outwardly, he only nodded lightly, his expression as usual, as if merely an obedient subordinate receiving his commander’s orders.

At that moment, urgent footsteps came from outside the door.

A soldier quickly stepped in, knelt on one knee, and urgently said, "Your Highness, Knight Carl from Vic’s squad... has returned injured and requests an audience."

"Injured?" Louis’ face turned grave as he slowly stood up, his gaze fixed in the direction of the archway, as if restraining his emotions.

However, he wasn’t surprised by Carl’s return or his injuries.

After all, the morning’s daily intelligence system had already informed him of Carl’s return and the information he brought back.

The Duke frowned, hesitating hardly at all: "Let him in at once."

The sound of iron boots stepping on stone bricks was heavy and viscous, as if each step came from a pool of blood.

Carl was covered in dry and not yet coagulated bloodstains, one hand clutching the wound on his shoulder tightly, the other gripping the arm of a guard as if holding onto the last unsunken piece of driftwood.

He staggered into the hall, his ankles seemingly unable to bear his weight, his knees almost sliding into view.

Louis quickly approached, half kneeling, to support the knight who was in a sorry state.

Duke Edmund didn’t move, only lifted his eyes slowly, that gaze shadowed as if it were never shaken.

No need for questions, just by the sight alone, Edmund understood—Vic was in grave danger.

He simply tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, his rhythm slow to the point of coldness, as if pressing a kind of sorrow into his bones.

Carl looked up to see the familiar figure, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his blood-stained mouth.

"Duke... sire..." His voice was hoarse, like a knife cutting through sand, "you... you are here..."

He broke free from the guard’s support, gritting his teeth to half kneel, maintaining the dignity of a knight even if he were to faint in the next moment.

"Report the situation," Edmund’s voice was low and steady.

Carl nodded, his chest heaving intensely several times, finally squeezing out what was on his mind in a broken string of words from his throat.

"We... found that place, the Nest of the bugs."

He suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood and foam, yet seemed not to notice, only raising a trembling hand to point to a distant direction outside the window.

"Within 20 kilometers southwest of the entrance to the Shadow Mountain Forest, where they are... no, it’s a nest made of some... living thing."