After bidding farewell to one excited, grateful face after another, Louis turned to leave.
He personally entrusted the unconscious mage to the medical staff of Cold Fir Fief.
"Take good care of him. Notify me immediately once he wakes up."
The medical staff had assumed he was an ordinary casualty, but when they lifted the blanket covering the makeshift stretcher, they all gasped.
"Is... is this man still alive?"
"His chest... did something chew on it?"
"And he's still breathing... That's just incredible..."
Despite their shock, they were no novices. They quickly recovered and nodded repeatedly. "Understood! We'll treat him right away!"
The stretcher was carefully wheeled into the town's infirmary. In that room thick with the scent of medicinal herbs, a desperate struggle to save a life was about to begin.
Louis did not linger. He made his way into Cold Fir Fief's Government Affairs Hall.
It was called the "Government Affairs Hall," but it looked nothing like what most people would imagine.
In truth, it was merely a large, converted semi-underground dwelling.
Located in the town center, the building had been assembled from local timber and mountain stone. Its structure was simple yet exceptionally sturdy, and the weathered marks at the corners of its walls bore clear traces of the Northern Frontier's wind and snow.
As he pushed open the door, warmth from the fire washed over him, driving away all the chill outside.
The furnishings were far from luxurious, but everything was exceedingly tidy.
A few notebooks and territorial documents lined the wooden shelves, and several practical writing desks stood in the room. The central desk had been polished to a shine, clearly prepared especially for the lord.
The mayor, agricultural officer, civil affairs officer, public security knight, medical affairs officer, and others were already waiting. They