A gentle smile, slightly tinged with fatigue, hung on his face, akin to winter sunlight, exuding great warmth.

As soon as he entered, everyone instinctively stood and greeted him.

"Master Louis."

"Congratulations on your triumphant return, Master Louis!"

"Snow Peak is fortunate to have you, truly our blessing."

"The Light of the Northern Territory, truly deserving!"

The compliments poured in like a tide, faces of the nobility filled with smiles. Among their words were sincerity and pretense, yet externally, all were uniformly respectful.

Brooke also stood, clapping lightly while keeping his gaze fixed on Louis's eyes.

This young man, without much change on his face, as if these praises were merely wind rustling through leaves, didn't even bother to respond with a "thank you."

"Still looks like a true young hero," he murmured to himself, a tone full of envy.

"Gentlemen." Louis sat at the head seat, his gaze sweeping across the hall.

"The war is over, and we have entered the recovery phase. I know each family has suffered significant losses and has ideas, so in today's meeting, let's skip the pleasantries and talk business. If you have any issues or suggestions, feel free to speak."

He tapped the table lightly, getting straight to the point, even skipping the formalities.

It was unexpected for the crowd; the entire hall instantly fell silent.

An awkward silence.

Many exchanged glances, clearly having prepared in advance, even thought about what to argue or propose.

But at this moment, no one wanted to be the first to speak.

The atmosphere was like solidified honey, dense and sluggish, as if afraid of breaking an invisible line with the slightest carelessness.

Brooke slightly frowned, he had hoped Roland would speak first, but the old fellow shirked like a field mouse.

Just as the air seemed about to freeze, Baron Jorn chuckled softly and raised his hand to speak:

"Boss, now that you're back, we have food, lodging, and even hot springs, so this is home after the war. Honestly, I have no objections."

Louis turned his head, glanced at him, and smiled.

Then he continued calmly, "If there are no suggestions, let's move on to the next topic."

Seeing Louis intending to skip the proposal section, Brooke felt a restless anxiety stirring within him.

Something's wrong.

This is not what he anticipated.

The few leaders he had arranged were all shrinking back, not even daring to meet Louis's gaze, even though they had been the loudest in private, now they were like wooden sculptures frozen in their seats.

Did you not say that once Louis returned, he must be taught a "lesson" about the rules?

He glanced at a few allies who had previously "collaborated."

Baron Harris was looking down at his shoes, even young Sirius was uncharacteristically silent, his eyes darting around.

And Viscount Roland indeed looked like he was trembling, staring at the corner of the table as if he himself were just a chair.

All useless...

Clearly, they had pounded their chests last night proclaiming they would speak openly at the meeting, but now they wouldn't even raise their heads.

Brooke just felt the opportunity slipping through his fingers, heart clenched in determination.

He couldn't wait anymore.

He slowly stood up, a gentle and humble smile on his face, his voice steady yet courteous: "Master Louis."

First, an opening filled with respect: "First of all, allow me, on behalf of all the nobility present, to extend our sincerest respect and thanks for your meritorious deeds in the Battle of the Frost Halberd.

Were it not for your bravery, the Northern Territory might have fallen to the Insect Nest. You brought back hope and safeguarded the last light of Snow Peak."

There were faint voices of agreement in the venue.

Not many, but enough for Brooke to continue.

He shifted the tone, slowing his pace, like an elderly family leader kindly "reminding" a younger member:

"However, as you mentioned, post-war reconstruction is indeed a daunting task, and because of that, we wish to pool our ideas and solve problems together."

As he spoke, he gently raised a hand.

Sitting beside him, Viscount Roland, like being pricked by a needle, trembled and, with trembling hands, slowly pulled a parchment document from his sleeve.

"This is a 'Snow Peak Joint Proposal' formulated by several nobles present, mainly proposing two points..." Brooke smiled, as if announcing a humble request, not a demand.

"First, to request the appropriate return of some military authority to the traditional units of each family to stabilize the borders and alleviate the refugee pressure.

Second, in terms of resource distribution and territory restoration, could a special committee be established by the 'Snow Peak Council' to jointly review with the Red Tide Territory?

We do not distrust the Red Tide Territory but wish to enhance the confidence of the people through 'joint governance.'"

With this, he raised his eyes to the young lord at the main seat: "What do you think— is it feasible?"

And beside him, Viscount Roland already looked pale, holding that letter like a hot potato, his gaze completely averted from Louis, lowly mumbling: "I...am merely delivering it..."

All eyes fell upon him, like countless invisible hands lifting him from his chair, delivering him to the altar.

Brooke watched as that document finally reached the desk, quietly exhaling a breath of relief in his heart.

He stood there, smiling, every word perfect, feeling even a bit smug inside.

Everything is going according to plan.

None of the nobles opposed, even Viscount Roland obediently handed over the letter.

Adding to his skillful use of language, first flattering, then advising, he balanced advancement and retreat with precision.

This is Viscount Brooke's forte in social tactics.

"Well done."

He was about to reveal a perfectly poised and confident smile...

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