Louis's gaze flickered faintly as he focused on the three lines of information projected before him by the Daily Intelligence System.
[1: The Navajo Tribe's chief has been poisoned to death. The Navajo Tribe has fallen into internal conflict.]
[2: A pack of Icefield Wolves has been discovered in Green Rock Rift. The majority are pups.]
[3: Four days from now, Jack will sell cranberry seeds in Frost Halberd City. Among them are more than a dozen Frost Blood Red Berry seeds.]
Louis raised an eyebrow slightly.
Normally, the intelligence provided by the system was cluttered with trivial or irrelevant information—rumors, minor disputes, or events too distant to be of immediate value. But today was different. Every single piece of intelligence carried tangible significance.
The Navajo Tribe.
Louis quickly recalled what he knew about this northern barbarian force. The Navajo Tribe had long been one of the dominant powers of the Northern Borderlands. Their warriors were infamous for their Blood-Boiling Berserkers, fighters who could enter a frenzied state that granted terrifying strength at the cost of reason. Their archers, too, were highly skilled, capable of raining death across frozen plains with ruthless precision.
For years, the Navajo Tribe had repeatedly harassed the Northern Border Province of the Iron-Blood Empire, launching raids, burning settlements, and slaughtering patrols. Duke Edmund, the empire's appointed governor of the region, harbored deep resentment toward them.
Now, their chief was dead—poisoned, no less.
Poison meant betrayal. And betrayal within a barbarian tribe was far more destructive than defeat on the battlefield.
Without a strong leader to suppress dissent, the tribe would inevitably descend into chaos. Internal power struggles, blood feuds, and factional infighting would erupt. If the conflict dragged on, the tribe might even fracture completely.
For the Northern Border as a whole, this was no small matter. The collapse or weakening of a power like the Navajo Tribe could shift the balance of the entire region. It might draw the attention of the Empire, neighboring tribes, or even foreign forces waiting for an opportunity.
In short, this was likely the calm before a storm.
But Louis did not allow himself to dwell on it for long.
"At my current level," he muttered quietly, "this is beyond me."
He was still far too weak to influence the fate of a major barbarian tribe. Compared to such forces, he was nothing more than a fledgling lord with a handful of knights and a newly established territory.
Right now, his priority was simple: grow stronger as quickly as possible.
Only by doing so could he prepare for the inevitable upheavals that the future would bring.
Louis shifted his attention to the second piece of intelligence.
Icefield Wolves. Green Rock Rift. Mostly pups.
His breathing grew slightly heavier.
Icefield Wolves were apex predators of the Northern Border's frozen wilderness. Fully grown adults were massive, with thick fur that could withstand blizzards and razor-sharp fangs capable of tearing through armor. Their speed was terrifying, and their endurance unmatched.
Even more valuable than their physical strength was their sense of smell—sharp enough to track prey across miles of snow and ice.
In military terms, they were perfect for reconnaissance, pursuit, and shock assaults.
Unfortunately, adult Icefield Wolves were nearly impossible to tame. Their wild instincts were deeply ingrained, and even seasoned beast tamers rarely succeeded in controlling them.
But pups were different.
If raised from a young age, properly trained, and bonded with humans, Icefield Wolves could become loyal companions.
And loyal Icefield Wolves meant only one thing.
Wolf Riders.
If Red Tide Territory could field such a unit, it would instantly possess a unique and terrifying combat force—one that could dominate the snowfields and strike fear into enemies.
Louis narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
He suspected that these pups were the offspring of the Icefield Wolf pack his people had hunted during their journey to Red Tide Territory. With the alpha dead, the pack had lost its core authority. That would naturally lead to chaos, infighting, and abandonment of the young.
A chance like this would never come again.
"This really is fate," Louis murmured.
Decision made, he straightened his posture.
"We leave tomorrow."
Finally, his gaze fell on the third piece of intelligence.
The moment he read it again, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Frost Blood Red Berry.
An extremely rare mutated plant.
At first glance, it looked nearly identical to ordinary cranberries. But upon closer inspection, its fruit was a deep, dark red, its juice thick and viscous. Most importantly, it contained an unusually high concentration of magical energy.
For ordinary people, it was a valuable nutritional supplement.
For Bloodline Knights, however, it was priceless.
The Frost Blood Red Berry could enhance Battle Qi, accelerate cultivation, and even help break through bottlenecks. If cultivated on a large scale, it would become Red Tide Territory's most valuable specialty—possibly even its economic foundation.
But Louis's expression quickly turned serious.
There was a problem.
Even if he rode at full speed, four days was not enough time to reach Frost Halberd City himself.
Being even a single day late could mean losing everything.
And the value of those seeds was simply too great to risk.
"I can't afford to gamble on this," Louis said firmly.
He immediately summoned Lambert, his Guardian Knight, along with two other Elite Knights.
Lambert was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with the calm confidence of a seasoned warrior. With him leading the team, Louis felt completely at ease.
"Lambert," Louis said in a deep, steady voice, "you and the others will ride to Frost Halberd City at maximum speed. You must arrive within three days."
Lambert's eyes sharpened. "Understood, my lord."
"There is a merchant named Jack," Louis continued. "Four days from now, he will be selling cranberry seeds on the east side of the market. You will arrive two days early, monitor the area, and purchase all of his goods the moment they become available."
Lambert paused briefly, surprise flickering across his face.
Berry seeds?
Such urgency over something so seemingly insignificant was unusual. But Lambert did not question the order.
Every decision Louis had made so far had proven correct.
"Yes, my lord," he replied firmly.
Louis nodded, then added, "Leave nothing to chance."
After issuing the command, Louis suddenly remembered something else.
Since they were already going to Frost Halberd City, there was another matter that could be handled.
He took out a piece of parchment and dipped his pen in ink.
The contents of the letter were simple.
First, he reported his safety.
Second, he asked for money.
His relationship with his father was… cold, to say the least. Louis did not know whether the man would even respond. But there was no harm in trying.
Even a modest amount of financial support would significantly accelerate Red Tide Territory's development.
Once finished, Louis sealed the letter with wax, stamped it with his personal seal, and handed it to Lambert.
"When you reach Frost Halberd City," Louis said, "give this letter to the head of our family's merchant guild. Have them send it back immediately."
Lambert carefully stored the letter. "Understood."
"Make sure there are no mistakes," Louis emphasized.
"There will be none."
The three knights mounted their warhorses and galloped toward Frost Halberd City, their figures quickly disappearing into the snowy horizon.
The next morning, Louis personally led a group of five elite hunters and eight Formal Knights toward Green Rock Rift.
The frozen ground thundered beneath their hooves as they rode.
"Have you confirmed it?" Louis asked, glancing sideways at Egg, the hunter leading the scouting efforts.
Egg nodded respectfully. "Yes, my lord. As you ordered, we investigated last night. The wolf pack has lost its leader. Most of those remaining are pups and a few elderly female wolves. They're hiding deep within the rock caves. This is the best possible opportunity."
As they approached the rift, the signs of violence became obvious.
The snow was trampled with chaotic paw prints. Dark stains of blood dotted the white surface, evidence of a fierce struggle that had occurred not long ago.
Egg pointed toward a particularly messy area. "These tracks are overlapping and irregular. That suggests internal fighting."
"With their leader dead, infighting was inevitable," Louis replied calmly.
He surveyed the terrain and began issuing orders.
"We'll divide into two teams. One will create a disturbance to draw out the adult wolves. The other will enter the den and retrieve the pups."
The hunters moved swiftly.
Fresh deer meat and animal remains were scattered near the cave entrance, with the largest pieces tied behind the knights' horses. The heavy scent of blood quickly spread through the cold air.
Moments later, a low growl echoed from within the darkness.
Pairs of green eyes opened.
"They're coming," Egg whispered.
Five massive Icefield Wolves emerged, their thick fur bristling as they scanned their surroundings. Their attention locked onto the meat, and they charged.
The knights spurred their horses forward, dragging the bait away.
Once the wolves were far enough, the knights abruptly turned.
Steel flashed.
The alpha wolf fell without a sound.
What followed was not a battle, but a slaughter.
Within minutes, the remaining adult wolves lay dead in the snow.
Louis exhaled slowly.
The future Wolf Riders of Red Tide Territory had just taken their first step into existence.
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