Report

The wheels rolled over the uneven cobblestones, giving off a grating squeak that jolted Karl awake from his dazed state.

A chill wind suddenly poured through the opened carriage window, carrying a harsh scent of livestock manure, woodsmoke, and a faint hint of rust. It instantly dispelled the last traces of haze in his mind.

He—or rather, the original owner of this body—was a young man named Karl, the seventh son of Duke Schmidt. At that moment, he was sitting in a swaying carriage traveling through a rugged, gloomy city.

A few minutes ago, he had still been in a brightly lit office building, racking his brains over an endless stream of PowerPoint revisions. Just before his vision went completely black from a sudden, cramping pain in his heart, the last thing he had seen was the cold 3:00 a.m. time display in the lower-right corner of his computer screen.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in this old carriage, whose decorations could barely be called presentable while its lining had long since worn thin, along with seventeen years of memories belonging to another person flooding into his mind.

The Schmidt Family was one of the grand dukes of the Goldflower Kingdom, with immense power and influence.

The original Karl was the youngest of the duke's seven legitimate sons, but that identity had brought him no benefits whatsoever.

His mother had come from a humble background and had long since fallen out of favor, living alone in a side courtyard.

And according to his memories, he himself was pitifully mediocre in a family that revered martial prowess and magic.

He had been unable to take even the first step in cultivating Battle Qi, had almost no magical affinity, and could barely pass when it came to riding horses and wielding swords.

In this family, he was as transparent as glass. Even the name "Karl" was as ordinary as a commoner's, further revealing his standing in his father's eyes.

"Damn, this is... a hell of a start." Karl rubbed his throbbing temples and cursed under his breath.

After transmigrating, he had not enjoyed even a single day of a noble young master's life. The first project he had inherited was this damned "Northern Border Reclamation Order."

As he sorted through fragments of memory, he understood the origins of his current predicament.

The Sauron Barbarians in the north raided the border every year, burning, killing, and looting. The Goldflower Kingdom's northern border was practically nonexistent, while countless problems festered within. The royal authority's control over the Northern Territory had fallen to rock bottom.

Thus, the king had come up with a brilliant move: issue the Pioneering Decree, ordering the great nobles to send their sons north with their own provisions and manpower to reclaim lost territory, expand the kingdom's borders, and guard the frontier.

Officially, this granted them glory and land. In reality, it killed two birds with one stone. It eased the pressure on the border while weakening the nobles' strength, since expansion required manpower and resources.

The nobles were naturally not fools. How could they send their true heirs or carefully cultivated elites to that godforsaken place in the Northern Territory to die?

Thus, unwanted, insignificant, and even somewhat inconvenient offspring like Karl became the best candidates.

Then, a few men would be assigned to them at random, forming "Pioneering Groups" that looked respectable on the surface but had no real combat power, merely paying lip service to the royal decree.

Karl's group was a typical example.

Two official First-tier Knights sounded decent, but they were merely the most basic combatants among the family's armed forces—probably washed-up veterans with no prospects or hotheaded youths assigned at random.

Six Knight Squires, who counted as semi-professional soldiers, thirty militiamen—probably farmers who had only just put down their hoes and spent a few months learning how to form ranks and grip spears—plus a thousand gold coins and several carts of grain.

The gold was fairly generous, enough to live extravagantly for several years, but Karl felt only coldness in his heart.

It felt more like a generous payment for his life, allowing him to eat and enjoy himself before setting out.

He looked out the window again.

According to his memories, Fran City was the first—and last—decent stronghold after entering the Northern Territory, known as the "First Major Fortress of the Northern Territory."

Yet what met his eyes were low, sturdy gray-black stone buildings covered in signs of wind and rain erosion. The streets were narrow and filthy, most pedestrians looked destitute, and they were wrapped in thick, worn clothing with numb, wary eyes.

Soldiers and mercenaries carrying weapons could be seen everywhere. The murderous aura clinging to them was far heavier than that of the guards in the Royal Capital.

The entire city was steeped in a tense, oppressive atmosphere, as if it were on the verge of war.

What part of this was a "major fortress"? It was clearly a huge forward stronghold, and it looked like life there was extremely difficult.

"Damn it..." Karl could not help cursing again. His prospects felt bleak—bleaker than the stones of Fran City.

With just thirty-eight men and these meager supplies, he was supposed to develop the Northern Territory? Deal with the infamous Sauron Barbarians? This was a joke. They were being sent to deliver their heads and provisions to the barbarians!

Overwhelming confusion and panic drowned him. When had a modern office drone who had just transmigrated ever experienced something like this? He did not even know what he should do first or what should come next.

Just as despair was about to engulf him, a cold mechanical voice suddenly rang out deep within his mind:

[Intelligence System loading... Loading complete.]

[Beginning host binding... Host identity detected: Karl von Schmidt... Binding successful.]

Karl jolted violently and nearly leaped from his seat, looking around in alarm and confusion.

There was no one else in the carriage.

A hallucination? Had the pressure become so great that he was hearing things?

Before he could sort out his thoughts, a clear stream of information forcibly poured into his consciousness, sharp as if engraved there:

[Intelligence System]: One task may be issued each day. Upon completion, intelligence of corresponding value will be awarded according to the task's difficulty and completion level. The intelligence may cover resource caches, secrets about individuals, movements of regional forces, predictions of future events, and more.

[Initial task issued]:

[Task]: Report to the Governor of the Northern Border Province, Earl Rochfort of Fran City. (Incomplete)

Karl was completely stunned. His mouth hung slightly open, and it took him a full dozen seconds to digest the incredible information.

A system? A cheat ability? Tasks? Intelligence?

This... wasn't this the sort of thing that existed only in web novels? It had actually happened to him?

His heart pounded violently with the excitement and disbelief of surviving a catastrophe, and his cold fingertips trembled faintly.

In the desperate darkness ahead, a beam of brilliant light suddenly shone through!

Although this system did not appear to grant him supreme techniques or invincible power directly, it did provide intelligence?

But in an unfamiliar environment where he was completely blind to everything and danger lurked everywhere, Karl understood the value of accurate intelligence after only a moment's thought with the mind forged by the modern information explosion.

"Stay calm, stay calm..." Karl took a deep breath and forced himself to settle down. However this system had come to be, it was his greatest support for the time being!

And the first task was simple and direct: report to the highest-ranking official here, Earl Rochfort, Governor of the Northern Border Province.

It made perfect sense. Officially and privately, once his Pioneering Group arrived in Fran City, it had to report to the highest local ruler, obtain the necessary permission and information, and perhaps even receive some form of official support or instructions, though the hope was slim...

"Coachman!" Karl suddenly pushed open the front window and shouted to the squire driving the carriage. The squire also served as the coachman, showing just how shabby his group was.

"My lord, what are your orders?" The squire turned his head, his face carrying a trace of awe and confusion. He was one of Karl's several Knight Squires.

"Go straight to the Governor's Office! We are going to see Governor Rochfort." Karl kept his voice as steady as possible as he issued his first order since transmigrating.

"Yes, my lord!" the squire replied, flicking the reins.

The carriage sped up slightly and passed through Fran City's chaotic, oppressive streets.

Karl sat back in the carriage. His gaze gradually sharpened as he began carefully sorting through every fragment of memory concerning Earl Rochfort, the Governor of the Northern Territory.

This governor was no simple man. The Northern Territory had a harsh environment and faced a massive barbarian threat. Anyone who could firmly hold the position of governor there while wielding real power was bound to be a hardliner—most likely a loyal subject of the kingdom, but certainly also a shrewd and cold-blooded pragmatist.

How would he view these "noble pioneers" who had been abandoned by their family and sent here to die?

He would probably not be friendly. He might even look down on them and seek to use them.

Regardless, this first step had to be taken. Besides, it was a system task!

About fifteen minutes later, the carriage stopped before a fortress-like building.

The place was under tight guard. Soldiers in black armor watched the shabby little group with eyes sharp as hawks.

Karl straightened his still-presentable Travel Attire, took a deep breath, and stepped down from the carriage.

The two First-tier Knights assigned by the family immediately came forward. One was a calm-looking middle-aged man with some gray at his temples; the other was a young man who looked somewhat nervous. They silently followed to either side behind Karl, as was their duty.

Karl nodded to the middle-aged Knight, then walked toward the squad leader guarding the gate.

"I am Karl von Schmidt. By order of Your Majesty's Pioneering Decree and Duke Schmidt, I have come to develop the Northern Territory.

I have come specifically to report to the governor." Karl tried his best to keep his tone neither servile nor overbearing.

The squad leader looked Karl up and down, then glanced at the small, dispirited group behind him. A trace of barely perceptible disdain flashed in his eyes, but his manners remained proper.

"Please wait, Lord Schmidt. I will send someone in to report this."

The wait was not long, but it was agonizing for Karl. He could feel the guards' gazes pricking him like needles as they assessed and judged him.

Soon, a clerk in civil official's robes came out.

"Lord Schmidt, the governor is handling official business. He has asked me to take you to the Council Chamber to wait." The clerk's tone was flat and official.

Karl's heart sank slightly.

The governor had not received him immediately, instead telling him to wait. His initial attitude was already clear, but Karl's expression did not change. He nodded. "Sorry for the trouble."

Following the clerk into the thick, cold stone building, they passed through several dim corridors before being led into a simply furnished room that was even somewhat empty and chilly.

"Please wait here. The governor will see you once he has finished his work." After speaking, the clerk gave a slight bow and withdrew, leaving Karl and his two Knights standing in the vacant room.

Time passed bit by bit. Aside from the soldiers standing guard outside the door, no one else came in.

The middle-aged Knight did not move at all, like a stone statue. The young Knight could not help shifting his feet slightly, a hint of impatience showing in his eyes.

Karl's heart also sank little by little. Was this a show of dominance? Was the governor truly busy? Or did he simply not care to see insignificant nobodies like them right away?

He recalled the [Incomplete] status in the system's task list.

It seemed that merely entering the Governor's Office did not count as "reporting." He had to meet the governor himself.

Just as Karl was considering whether to find a way to hurry them along, or whether he should use some gold to grease the right palms, that cold mechanical voice suddenly rang out in his mind again:

[Daily intelligence updated (trial-period privilege, today only)]

[Intelligence entry]: Governor Earl Rochfort is not currently busy with official matters. He is receiving his mistress in his study—a married jewel merchant from the southern Free City-States. He hates being disturbed, especially when these "useless nobles from the south who have come here to die" interrupt his private time. Your wait will last at least two hours, and you will receive no meaningful promise of assistance.

The instant the information flooded into his mind, Karl's eyes narrowed sharply.

The cold intelligence instantly let him see the situation clearly.

So that was it!

He was not busy. He simply did not want to see them—and they had already been labeled "useless nobles sent here to die."

Continuing to wait around was meaningless. It would only waste two hours, and in the end he would still be sent away empty-handed after suffering nothing but frustration.

Karl's gaze instantly turned cold and keen.

He had not transmigrated here to be bullied, much less to die. Since the system had given him this key, then...

He abruptly turned toward the door and spoke in a low voice to the soldier standing guard, his tone carrying an unmistakable edge:

"Tell the governor that Karl of the Schmidt Family has urgent intelligence concerning an unusual gathering of Kobolds along the southern edge of the Black Forest. It concerns the safety of the supply line southwest of Fran City."

"If the governor has no time to hear it now, I will handle it myself—but whoever delays this matter will bear all the consequences!"

His voice was not loud, but it carried a strange weight.

His words were half true and half false. The Black Forest and Kobolds were familiar threats in the Northern Territory according to his memories, while the southwestern supply line was a keyword that would make any Northern Territory commander wary.

More importantly, he had precisely emphasized "now" and "consequences."

The soldier was clearly stunned. Karl's sudden change in bearing and the urgency revealed in his words left him at a loss.

The two Knights behind Karl also looked at him in surprise. A barely perceptible glint flashed through the middle-aged Knight's eyes.

The soldier hesitated, but in the end he turned and hurried away to report.

Karl stood where he was, his heart beating a little faster after this first proactive move.

He knew that he had placed his bet.

Now, it depended on whether the governor would continue enjoying his time with his mistress or show even the slightest interest in this sudden "alarm."

And within Karl's mind, the system interface's [Incomplete] task status still hung there coldly.