Choosing a Territory

Across the snow-covered land, a party of more than forty knights slowly approached Frost Glaive City.

At the center of the party, a black carriage rolled steadily forward, a flag bearing the Crimson Moon Crest flying from its roof.

Such a grand procession naturally drew the gate guards' attention, and they watched the newcomers warily.

As they neared the gates, a tall, slender young man slowly stepped out of the carriage.

He raised a hand and pulled back his hood, revealing a handsome face. "I am Louis Calvin, a reclamation baron appointed by the empire. I have come to pay my respects to Duke Edmund."

Several soldiers exchanged looks, surprise appearing in their eyes.

The Calvin Family was one of the Ironblood Empire's eight great families, and its name carried some weight even in the Northern Frontier.

Although they did not know what standing this young man held within the Calvin Family, he was certainly not someone ordinary soldiers like them could afford to slight.

One soldier turned and entered the city to report his arrival.

Before long, a middle-aged official hurried out to greet him. "Lord Louis, His Grace has been informed of your arrival. Please follow me into the city."

Led by the official, Louis and his party passed through the heavy gates and entered Frost Glaive City.

The streets were wide but riddled with potholes. Snow mingled with muddy water, leaving trails of filthy footprints wherever people walked.

Most of the houses were built from stone and timber, crude and dilapidated. Here and there, ruins lay collapsed beneath the wind and snow.

There were few pedestrians on the streets, and they fell roughly into two groups.

One group consisted of Northern Frontier soldiers in fur coats, their faces etched with exhaustion and their eyes carrying the cold indifference of battle-hardened veterans.

The other consisted of commoners wrapped in coarse cloth, their expressions numb as they trudged along with their heads down.

Louis swept his gaze over these sights, but they stirred nothing within him.

Given the Northern Frontier's scarce resources and frequent warfare, maintaining even this degree of order was no small achievement.

"Duke Edmund is inside." The official led Louis and his party to the governor's office.

The room had little in the way of lavish decoration, containing only a large, heavy desk, several old bookshelves, and a dark blue military flag hanging on the wall.

A middle-aged man sat behind the desk. A vicious scar ran from the corner of his left eye to his jaw, lending an even sharper edge to his already stern features.

His presence was like an immovable fortress, radiating suffocating pressure.

This was Duke Edmund, ruler of Frost Glaive City and the man who truly controlled the Northern Frontier Province.

"A Mid-Rank Official Knight..." He scrutinized Louis with disdain in his eyes. "A boy from the Calvin Family?"

Louis's expression remained unchanged as he nodded slightly. "Yes."

"You certainly have the looks." Edmund's lips curved slightly, his tone scornful and mocking. "Compared with that illustrious eldest brother of yours, you do look more like a noble."

Louis was not surprised by his disdain.

After all, this was a world where the strong preyed on the weak, and strength was the most convincing credential.

It was only natural for a renowned Peak Knight to look down on someone as weak as him.

He therefore saw no reason to waste time on pleasantries. Taking out his Reclamation Certificate bearing the Royal Seal, he said, "I have come to register my reclamation territory."

Edmund took the Reclamation Certificate and casually skimmed it, confirming Louis's status as a reclamation lord. He then drew a map from a stack of documents on his desk and spread it across the surface.

"You can choose anywhere except the areas marked with red circles."

Louis looked down at the detailed map of the Northern Frontier Province.

The Northern Frontier Province was vast, covering roughly half the area of Russia in his previous life.

Yet only a dozen or so red circles marked areas that could not be chosen.

There were still plenty of places available, which left Louis rather excited.

For this reclamation initiative, the empire had issued a comprehensive set of regulations called the Northern Frontier Reclamation Edict.

One provision explicitly stated that all newly appointed Frontier Lords had to register at the Governor's Office and select their initial reclamation territory, with priority given to those who arrived first.

It seemed he was among the first Frontier Lords to arrive.

The other noble scions sent by their families were probably dragging their feet, reluctant to come to the Northern Frontier and putting it off for as long as possible. They had not taken the matter seriously at all.

For him, that was excellent news.

Louis stared at the intricate map, sinking into thought.

Over the past few days, he had been sorting through all the intelligence provided by the system, preparing for this very moment.

The information from the Daily Intelligence System rapidly intertwined in his mind as he sifted through it, compared it, and searched for the territory best suited for development.

In truth, he already had several ideal locations in mind.

As such, making his choice did not take long.

He reached out and circled a spot on the map, then looked up at Edmund. "This one."

Edmund glanced down at the location Louis had indicated, and a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

It lay in the southeastern Northern Frontier, where the Blue-Rock Rift met the Gray Moss Tundra, seventy-five kilometers from Frosthowl Fjord.

This boy picked out a good spot at a glance?

The area enjoyed temperatures slightly warmer than most of the Northern Frontier, allowing a few cold-resistant crops to be grown, albeit with difficulty, in every season except the bitter winter.

That alone made it far better than most places in the Northern Frontier.

There was also a stream nearby, ensuring ample water and providing fish to live on.

More importantly, it contained several cold iron ore veins. Although they were extremely difficult to mine, they still held enormous development potential if a suitable method could be found.

In the Northern Frontier, a harsh land frozen year-round and starved of resources, this was undoubtedly one of the few places that could be considered "rich."

The duke raised his head and took another look at the young man before him.

He had assumed Louis was merely an ordinary noble wastrel. To think he actually knew how to choose a territory-apparently, he was not as simple as he seemed.

Duke Edmund watched Louis with interest and offered a rare word of praise. "A fine choice."

Louis showed no smugness at Edmund's praise. "Thank you for your kind words, Your Grace. I merely did my best to make the most suitable choice."

Edmund's appreciation for Louis grew, and he patted him on the shoulder. "If every reclamation lord had your eye, there might be hope for the Northern Frontier yet."

He picked up a steel stamp and pressed it firmly onto Louis's Reclamation Lord Registration Document, officially confirming Baron Louis's sovereignty over the territory.

Louis accepted the document, his fingertips brushing over the impression of the Frost Glaive Emblem left by the steel stamp.

Outwardly, he remained calm, but inwardly, fireworks were already going off.

The land he had chosen based on the Daily Intelligence System could not possibly be an ordinary territory.

Had Edmund known its true value, he would never have let it fall so easily into someone else's hands. He would have kept it firmly in his own grasp.