Louis pressed a hand to his head as the territory's data churned through his mind. He began drafting Crimson Tide Territory's future industrial plan based on the information at hand.

Relying solely on the Intelligence System to drop windfalls from the sky wasn't sustainable for feeding nearly a thousand people. Crimson Tide Territory needed stable industries.

Once the information had organized itself in his head, he looked up at Hilko. "I'll speak. You write."

Hilko forced himself alert and nodded.

"Send the hundred fishermen to the riverbank immediately." Louis tapped his pen on the winding river marked on the map.

"Set up temporary docks first. Get fishing boats built ahead of time and prepare to restore the fishing industry. The fish stock isn't large yet, but once the water warms, massive schools will migrate upstream to spawn. When that happens, fishing will become one of Crimson Tide Territory's most vital food sources.

In the future, we should also consider establishing aquaculture zones along the river. If we can successfully breed cold-water fish, we'll develop our own fishery instead of relying purely on wild catches."

"Understood." Hilko jotted down each point as the lord spoke.

"Beyond fishing, agriculture and livestock can't fall behind either. We currently have over four hundred farmers. Focus them on land reclamation."

Louis's finger traced a line across the map's warm low-temperature zone.

"Use the hot spring water to thaw the frozen ground and set up irrigation systems in advance. The soil here isn't rich, but with proper use of the geothermal zones it won't matter much. First crops will be rye and potatoes—cold-resistant varieties that can grow in this land."

"Understood."

"As for livestock…" Louis paused, thinking over the territory's animals. "Our current livestock count is far too low. The few cattle, sheep, and reindeer we have won't support large-scale husbandry. I'll send men to Frostspear City to buy more. At the same time, we'll establish a dedicated pastoral zone and develop animal husbandry."

"Understood." Hilko was still nodding, exhausted but carefully recording every instruction.

Next, Louis circled the forest region on the Crimson Tide Territory map. "We have over fifty experienced hunters. Aside from daily hunting, they can survey the forest perimeter. Keep magical beasts out. Don't let unknown forces infiltrate."

"Finally, the craftsmen we brought from Frostspear City. Tanners prioritize winter clothing. Blacksmiths make farming tools. Carpenters build houses. We'll also establish a central workshop—bring all the craftsmen together to collaborate, take on apprentices, and form a complete production chain."

Louis spoke rapidly, every sentence a decision he'd already run through countless iterations in his mind.

Hilko had never held much affection for the title of "lord." The nobles in his memory were hypocritical, arrogant, spewing noble rhetoric while treating their subjects like livestock. His initial impression of Louis had been nothing more than a soft-hearted good guy.

But now his opinion was shifting. This lord wasn't just kind—he knew how to wield the resources at his disposal. *This guy… he's actually pretty impressive,* Hilko admitted to himself.

And just like that, Louis executed his plan step by step. Crimson Tide Territory officially came to life.

Bonfires cast their glow over bustling figures. Cooking smoke curled into the sky.

Hunters readied their gear. Fishermen began repairing their boats. The ring of craftsmen's hammers echoed through the air.

The land that had lain dead for so long was finally stirring.

…

Spring crept in quietly, though most of the Northlands remained buried under lingering snow, impossible to till.

But the ground beneath Louis's feet was different. The soil was soft and moist, carrying the first breath of the season.

This was thanks to the order Louis had issued a week earlier: guide the hot spring water into the fields and use geothermal heat to thaw the frozen earth.

Now, the ground locked in ice all winter had finally loosened. The barren wasteland was coming alive.

"Is this really Northlands soil?" A farmer scooped up a handful of earth and marveled at its warm dampness.

Those around him bent down to touch it, their faces alight with surprise.

"The hot water actually thawed the frozen ground!"

"We can plant in the Northlands at the start of spring!"

Excited chatter rippled across the fields.

Of course, using hot spring water to thaw the soil was only a stopgap. The water had high salt content, and repeated use could turn the land into barren salt flats. Once conditions allowed, they'd need to transition to greenhouse cultivation.

Standing beside Louis was a middle-aged man whose clothes were perpetually stained with soil and dried grass. His name was Mick, and he was Crimson Tide Territory's agricultural officer.

Mick had once been just another anonymous slave, unremarkable and tongue-tied. Without the Daily Intelligence System, Louis would never have noticed that among his slaves was a man with an extraordinary gift for farming. An almost instinctive intuition for soil, crops, and climate.

When Louis had sought Mick out, annulled his slave status, and appointed him agricultural officer, Mick couldn't believe his ears. It was beyond anything he'd ever dared to dream. Too clumsy with words to express his gratitude, he simply buried himself in the fields and poured every ounce of effort into the land.

Today was plowing and fertilizing day.

Mick crushed a handful of moist soil between his calloused fingers, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He looked up at Louis and wiped his hand on his tunic. "My lord, everything is ready."

"In that case, let's begin." Louis nodded.

"All hands—plow!" Mick bellowed.

The order was executed instantly. Hundreds of farmers bent low and drove their iron plows deep into the soil.

"It's so soft!"

"There's still warmth in this dirt!"

The softened earth delighted farmers who had worked Northlands soil for years. And all of it was thanks to Louis's ingenuity.

The people's reverence for their lord +1.

Louis watched the farmers laboring diligently and asked, "Is the fertilizer ready?"

"Long since prepared!" Mick waved his arm, and a dozen wooden carts rolled into the fields, piled high with dark fertilizer that carried a pungent, sharp odor.

This was the special base fertilizer Louis had ordered collected and produced from the moment they'd arrived: a blend of human and animal manure, straw, fish innards, and alchemical clod-breaker powder.

The manure and straw supplied basic nutrients. The fish innards were rich in organic matter. The clod-breaker powder not only dramatically boosted fertility but also warded off pests, giving the seeds a stronger start after sowing.

The fertilizer's intense smell spread through the air, stinging noses. Some wrinkled their faces, but no one complained.

Even Louis, their lord, showed no disgust. They all understood: only this fertilizer could bring a better harvest.

The farmers worked in orderly fashion, spreading the fertilizer into the tilled soil and mixing it in evenly with their hoes, letting the nutrients fully seep through.

"Four more days, and we can sow," Mick said, stomping the earth with a satisfied look.

Louis lingered a moment to confirm everything was in order, then turned to leave.

It wasn't the stench that drove him away. His Daily Intelligence System had just refreshed three pieces of useful intelligence that demanded his attention.