FL - Chapter 100: Training Wolves and the Castle

Lord Louis, praised and thanked by thousands, was currently playing with his wolf.

Coldfang lay prone on the grass, ears faintly twitching, eyes sharp with focus, waiting for Louis's command.

"Ambush."

Coldfang slipped soundlessly into the tall grass, his form a silver-gray shadow, circling around to the flank.

"Strike!"

He exploded forward, jaws clamping onto the suspended cloth target, wrenching it fiercely from side to side.

"Retreat!"

He released instantly, spun with agile grace, and darted back to Louis's side. Every movement was crisp, efficient. Not a single wasted motion.

After several months of training, Coldfang understood nearly every command Louis gave. Whether ordered to stalk, attack, or guard, the wolf obeyed precisely. At times, a glance alone conveyed Louis's intent.

Of course, for the past two months, the one actually training Coldfang hadn't been Louis at all. It had been Aiger.

Ice Wolves possessed a powerful instinct for hierarchy. Aiger handled every drill, meal, and correction, yet Coldfang had never truly submitted to him. The moment Louis returned, the wolf bounded to his side and followed at his heels.

Because Coldfang knew exactly who the real alpha was.

"Good dog." Louis crouched down and rubbed his forehead.

Coldfang whimpered for praise, rubbed against Louis's palm, and planted his massive head across Louis's legs with shameless entitlement.

"There you go again."

Louis laughed wryly, half his body pinned in place by the wolf's weight. "You're a wolf king, not a dog… hey, no licking!"

Coldfang's tail whipped like a windmill, his tongue hanging from a broad canine grin. He looked more like an overgrown pet than a wolf king.

Naturally, he only acted this way around Louis. In front of the other wolf pups, he wore a very different face. The face of a leader.

"Tch… you really have completely accepted me as your master, haven't you."

Louis's fingers combed gently through the fur at Coldfang's nape, feeling the sleek, wild texture beneath his touch.

"If only you were a little taller. A little broader. Then we'd really be in business."

Coldfang was about six months old and only just past the cub stage. His limbs had lengthened and muscle had begun to fill out his frame, but full adulthood remained more than a year away.

"Which means my wolf cavalry dreams will have to wait a while longer…"

Louis's gaze drifted into the distance. He could already see it: himself astride a wolf, charging through enemy ranks, a lone rider cutting a peerless figure amid a sea of foes.

A light footstep sounded behind him.

It was Sif. She approached with a stack of reports cradled in her arms. "Reports from the various territories have come in. Shall I read them to you?"

Louis nodded, signaling her to begin. His other hand continued to play with Coldfang.

Sif unrolled the parchment and began to read, item by item.

"Snowfield Territory has successfully domesticated a herd of Snow Mountain Goats. They are suitable for pen breeding and produce ample milk in winter."

"Coldpine Territory's grain station and tent settlement are complete. Over seven hundred people have registered and settled."

"Ice Ridge Territory—knights successfully rescued several hundred trapped civilians from a mountain pass. All have been properly resettled."

"As for Greystag Territory, the third bandit-suppression operation has concluded. Three bandit leaders were beheaded and displayed publicly. The remaining bandits have fled at the mere rumor of our approach."

"…"

Louis listened and nodded.

"Not bad. The plan is already showing results." His expression remained thoughtful. "I wonder how many people we've saved. Grain consumption is too high, but the first purchased shipment should arrive soon. We only need to hold out a few more days."

He smiled ruefully. "Is this the price of being the sun?"

Sif did not understand why Louis kept comparing himself to the sun. Perhaps he meant that he wanted to illuminate the lives of others.

She continued through the territory's routine affairs. Louis listened until she reached the item he had long awaited.

"Ah, there is one more thing." Sif flipped through the papers in her hands. "Mac says Crimson Tide Territory's castle is nearly complete. He requests that you come see it."

"Oh?" Louis's eyes lit up. He sat up straight at once.

Louis remembered it well. He had modeled the plans after a rammed-earth fortress and designed the hot-spring geothermal heating system himself.

"I thought there was a problem with the hot-spring clay," Louis said.

"Yes. There was some delay." Sif nodded. "But a new team of craftsmen was brought in afterward, and the pace accelerated considerably. The main structure is now complete. Only some finishing work and defensive fortifications remain under construction."

"It's really almost done. I thought I'd be waiting until next year." Louis let out a breath of wonder.

He had passed by the worksite often enough, but all he'd been able to see from the outside was the outer wall going up. He hadn't yet gotten a detailed look at the interior.

Louis smiled. "Let's go take a look this afternoon, then."

After lunch, the sun was bright and warm. Louis threw on his cloak and set off at an easy stroll with Sif and a few guard knights.

Stepping onto the freshly laid dirt road, Louis caught sight of it at once.

The castle's rugged silhouette rose from the earth on massive rammed-earth walls. Dark gray stone bricks armored the foundation and climbed halfway up the structure, merging with the arrow towers in clean, practical lines.

Above that, the wooden structure took over, with overhanging eaves. The beams were carved with the Crimson Tide sun emblem and wave motifs. A hint of refinement within the rawness.

The castle resembled an armored beast: solid, severe, relentlessly practical, yet shaped with unmistakable craftsmanship.

It suited Louis's practical tastes perfectly.

This wasn't the sumptuous beauty of southern nobility. This was the beauty of the Northlands. Rough, functional, honest. Its exterior didn't resemble Frostspear City's castle in the slightest, but their temperaments were close kin.

Louis stared for a long moment and let out a sigh. "Old Mac actually produced a castle in this style. The man really does have some serious skill. Though of course, the credit is mostly mine."

He did also vaguely recall that what he'd drawn on the sketch had been, well… a big, bare pillar.

"The design concept was mine," he added under his breath, utterly without shame.

Sif studied the new fortress. She had imagined gleaming stone, carved beams, and painted rafters; the building before her looked plain and rough by comparison.

Just then, the main gate groaned open.

Mac strode out, covered head to toe in dust.

"Lord! You came!" His face was the picture of self-satisfaction. "I have not failed my duty. Completed on schedule."