The heavy snow had finally stopped.
Louis stood on the top floor of Red Tide Castle, gazing at the snow-covered mountains and ruins in the distance.
A ray of early spring sunlight barely broke through the clouds, illuminating the roofs and fields that had survived the harsh winter.
The temperature was slowly rising. Fine cracks had appeared in the frozen river, and the steam vents were spouting a little more forcefully than they had in recent days.
But that did not mean spring had arrived in the Northern Frontier.
The snowfall had eased lately, yet more and more refugees were gathering outside the towns of the Red Tide Fief.
They arrived in groups, draped in tattered blankets, their frost-cracked fingers bound with hemp cord. Some carried the sick on their backs, others dragged corpses, but most were women cradling infants, kneeling beside the main road to Red Tide. Their eyes had long since run dry, leaving only numbness and the instinct to survive.
"Please... we're not asking you to save us. Just let the children in..."
"My husband has already frozen to death... if we don't get into the city soon, there won't even be bones left to find..."
Louis stood on the city wall, watching them in silence for a while before turning to give his orders:
"Open the eastern defensive zone and establish a temporary refugee shelter area. But every refugee entering must undergo two rounds of disinfection and quarantine, and no corpses are to be brought inside.
Anyone whose body has not completely rotted and who can still stand unaided is to be assigned to the labor roster. Have the Disaster Reconstruction Group divide the temporary tent area into family units.
Transport the critically ill to the makeshift medical camp together. Tell the doctors there to do