When Emily first entered the Red Tide Fief, she had not expected much.
After all, she had reviewed its old records before coming. It was merely one of the remote corners of the Northern Frontier.
Having followed her father around since childhood, she was all too familiar with the Northern Frontier's bitter cold and desolation.
Even with a lord, how different could it be?
In fact, when she first reached the border, all she saw were vast stretches of pale, lifeless wasteland scoured by wind and snow, with scarcely a trace of human habitation.
She had almost concluded that this place was probably no different from the other fiefs: deserted and lifeless, with perhaps a few more ramshackle wooden houses stuck in the snow.
But as the carriage traveled farther in, her assumptions began to waver.
The scenery began to change. Emily gazed into the distance through the carriage window, expecting nothing but the Northern Frontier's endless desolation, only to catch an unexpected glimpse of something different.
The Red Tide Fief's residential area gradually came into view.
From afar, it no longer looked like the crude, hastily erected camp she had imagined. Instead, it possessed a curious sense of order.
The entire settlement had a clearly defined layout, its streets spreading out in a neat, orderly grid.
Rows of partially sunken houses rose and fell across the Northern Frontier's gray landscape.
Although she could not make out the details, their neatness was impossible to miss.
Even more surprising, she could faintly discern the outline of a market in the town center.
The market's awnings and tightly arranged stalls linked together like decorative touches.
Wisps of white smoke rose now and then above the adjoining workshop district.
Even from so far away, she felt as though she could sense its faint