Louis's eyes flickered as he stared at the three entries the Daily Intelligence System had just presented.

**[1: The chieftain of the Cold Moon Tribe has been poisoned to death. The tribe has descended into civil war.]**

**[2: A pack of Ice Wolves is located at Greystone Rift—the majority are cubs.]**

**[3: In four days, a merchant named Jack will be selling cranberry seeds at Frostspear City. Hidden among them are over a dozen Frostblood Berry seeds.]**

Louis raised an eyebrow. Normally, the system's daily intelligence was padded with trivial, irrelevant tidbits. But today, all three entries were valuable.

The Cold Moon Tribe.

Louis recalled the intelligence he had on this northern barbarian tribe. They had long been one of the Northlands' most formidable powers, renowned for their Boiling Blood Berserkers and archers. They had repeatedly raided the Ironblood Empire's Northlands Province, earning Duke Edmund's deep-seated hatred.

Now, their chieftain had been murdered by poison. The tribe was certain to descend into chaos, and if the turmoil persisted, it might even splinter.

For the Northlands as a whole, this could be the first tremor of an approaching storm. But for Louis, at this stage, it was still beyond his reach. He was a small fry just getting started. He didn't have the capital to influence the fate of the barbarians.

The only thing he could do was develop his own strength as quickly as possible and prepare for the upheavals that might follow.

The second entry: Ice Wolves at Greystone Rift. The key word was cubs.

Ice Wolves were apex predators of the Northlands snowfields. Massive, terrifyingly fast, and capable of surviving in the most extreme cold. Their acute sense of smell made them ideal for scouting and combat.

Adult wolves, however, were nearly impossible to tame. But cubs were different. If raised from infancy, Crimson Tide Territory could field a unique combat force: wolf riders.

Louis suspected these cubs' parents were the very pack they had hunted down on their way to the territory. A hell of a coincidence.

"We leave tomorrow," he murmured to himself.

The final entry made him outright grin. Frostblood Berries. An exceedingly rare mutated fruit.

They resembled ordinary cranberries on the surface, but their flesh was deep crimson, their juice thick and rich with mana. Most importantly, they could enhance a bloodline knight's Battle Aura and accelerate their cultivation.

If he could cultivate these at scale, they would become Crimson Tide Territory's most valuable specialty.

But Louis immediately saw the problem. Even at full speed, he couldn't reach Frostspear City in four days. Being even a single day late could mean someone else beat him to the prize. The value of the Frostblood Berries was too great. He couldn't afford the risk.

Without hesitation, he summoned Lambert and two additional Elite Knights. Lambert was his guardian knight. With him leading this mission, Louis could rest easy.

"Lambert." His voice was low, his gaze heavy. "The three of you will ride for Frostspear City at maximum speed. You must arrive within three days."

He paused, then continued. "On the eastern side of the market, there's a merchant named Jack. Four days from now, he'll be selling cranberry seeds. You'll arrive two days early. Stake out the market and buy his entire stock the moment he sets up."

Lambert was briefly taken aback. Why would his lord place such importance on a few berry seeds? But he didn't question it for a second. He nodded firmly. "Understood, my lord."

Every decision Louis had made so far had been proven right.

Louis suddenly thought of something else. Since men were heading to Frostspear City anyway, he might as well take care of a few additional matters.

He pulled a sheet of parchment from his desk, dipped a pen, and wrote a letter. Its contents were simple: first, a status update; second, a request for resources.

He wasn't sure whether his cold-blooded father would respond, but there was no harm in trying. Even a modest infusion of funds would accelerate Crimson Tide Territory's development.

He sealed the letter, stamped it with his sigil, and handed it to Lambert. "Once you reach Frostspear City, deliver this to the manager of our family's trading company. Have them send it back as quickly as possible."

Lambert accepted the letter with great care and nodded. "Understood."

"Make sure nothing goes wrong." Louis repeated the instruction firmly.

"Understood!"

The three men mounted their warhorses and thundered off toward Frostspear City.

…

At dawn the next day, Louis rode out across the frozen tundra with five elite hunters and eight Formal Knights, heading straight for Greystone Rift.

"Has it been confirmed?" He glanced sideways at Aiger, the hunter leading the expedition.

Aiger answered respectfully, "As you ordered, we sent men to scout last night. The pack has lost its leader. Most of what remains are cubs and a few elderly females, holed up in a cave deep in the rift. It's a prime opportunity."

Their target, of course, was the Ice Wolf cubs.

The party approached the rift with caution. The snow was riddled with wolf tracks and bloodstains. A fierce struggle had clearly taken place the previous night.

Aiger pointed at a churned patch of snow. "Look, my lord. The tracks are chaotic. The pack may have fought among themselves."

"The alpha is dead. With no leader, infighting is inevitable."

"We'll split into two teams," Louis said, turning to the hunters. "One team makes noise and draws the adults' attention. The other slips into the den and retrieves the cubs. Let's move."

The hunters scattered fresh blood and the carcasses of prey animals outside the cave entrance, then tied the largest chunks behind the knights' horses. Fresh venison and bone, drenched in the thick, coppery scent of blood, designed to trigger the adult wolves' hunting instincts to their fullest.

The air grew heavy with the stench of gore. Before long, low growls echoed from the depths of the cave. Pairs of pale green eyes blinked open in the darkness.

"They're coming." Aiger's voice dropped to a whisper.

Five massive adult Ice Wolves emerged from the cave, scanning their surroundings with wary eyes as low snarls rumbled in their throats.

Their gazes locked onto the bait in the distance. Their pace quickened as they surged toward it.

The knights immediately spurred their horses and galloped away, dragging the carcasses behind them, drawing the wolves far from the den. The lead wolf charged ahead; the others followed in its wake. It was a carefully laid trap.

Once the adults were well clear of the cubs, the knights yanked their reins, wheeled around, and brought their blades crashing down. Cold steel glinted in the pale light.

*Shnk.* The lead wolf didn't even have time to react before a sword pierced its throat.

The remaining adults howled in fury and tried to counterattack. But they weren't facing ordinary hunters. They were facing Formal Knights wielding Battle Aura.

The air reeked of blood as the slaughter unfolded. One after another, the wolves collapsed. Within minutes, every adult had been eliminated.