She turned her face slightly to look at him, her tone lightening a bit, "Perhaps it's time to let the people see that their Lord is still alive?"

Louis smiled slightly, threw on his cloak, buttoned the collar, and adjusted the cuff links.

"Very well."

He walked to the window and pushed open the heavy wooden shutters.

The cold wind blew in, but the sunshine seeped through the clouds, illuminating the snow-melted ground and the slowly rising cooking smoke far away in Red Tide City.

After simply freshening up, Emily and Louis left the room together, walking through the corridor to the side dining room of the main building in Red Tide City.

Breakfast was already prepared.

There were no silver plates or jade utensils, no exquisite spices or candied fruits, just a few slices of rye bread, a pot of steaming coarse grain porridge, a small dish of pickled bear meat, and some stewed root vegetables.

Compared to the grandeur of noble residences in the past, the present breakfast seemed almost "scarce."

Emily glanced at Louis beside her, said nothing, and quietly sat down, accepting the wooden bowl handed to her by a servant.

"The taste is indeed not very good," Louis said blandly after a bite of bread, shrugging slightly, "But well, given the current state, we can't afford to be indulgent."

Emily chuckled softly, "Setting an example, is it?"

Louis didn't reply, just took a sip of the porridge, chewing slowly as if he wasn't consuming food but rather a weighty responsibility.

He sighed inwardly: Truly a good Lord.

The thought was almost laughable even to himself.

In these times of a coming cold winter and scarce resources, every simple meal was a signal to others, indicating that even the Lord eats like this, so naturally, no complaints should arise.

After breakfast, Louis and Emily donned their light armor and thick cloaks.

The cloaks were lined with thick animal fur, providing warmth and plenty of flexibility.

Emily wore gloves, with her hair pinned up, leaving only a few strands of blue hair dangling by her neck, giving her a neat and capable appearance.

At the main entrance, the Personal Guard had been waiting for some time.

"Let's move out."

At Louis's command, everyone responded and formed ranks.

Their iron boots crunched the snow, armor clinked softly, and about a dozen well-equipped Personal Guard Knights marched in formation, clearing the path for the Lord on his patrol.

The most eye-catching among them was naturally the young man riding on the left front, upright and full of spirit — Weir.

He wore a slightly oversized helmet, the light armor beneath his cloak glimmered faintly in the sunlight, and an uncontainable excitement and pride shone in his eyes.

For him, to patrol with Lord Louis was the greatest honor.

He occasionally turned his head to look at Louis, his eyes resembling those of a little hunting dog wagging its tail, full of suppressed reverence and excitement.

"Looking quite dashing," Louis glanced at him, his interest piqued, "So, tell me, what stage have you reached in your cultivation?"

Weir immediately turned his head, scratching the back of it like a student called upon in class, revealing a slightly embarrassed smile, "I broke through just over two months ago, I'm now a Mid-tier Elite Knight, my Lord!"

As his words fell, the Personal Guard momentarily fell silent.

Even Emily raised her eyebrows slightly, unable to resist turning to look at him.

"You've become a Mid-tier Elite Knight?" She unusually showed a shocked expression, "You're... only thirteen, aren't you?"

Weir puffed out his chest, hastily correcting, "Already fourteen, my Lord!"

"A fourteen-year-old Mid-tier Elite Knight..." Emily murmured, "You probably won't find many like that in the entire Empire."

Louis also revealed a subtle smile, his tone carrying a hint of teasing, "He's been cultivating since he was an Apprentice Knight, for less than two years."

Emily exclaimed in surprise, "Then he's truly a genius among geniuses."

Hearing this, Weir's back straightened even more, and he could barely hide the flush on his face.

"It seems in a few days, your status will surpass mine," Louis laughed as he spoke, his tone carrying no hint of jealousy, rather more like an elder brother encouraging his younger sibling.

Upon hearing this, Weir's face immediately fell, hurriedly waving his hands, "No, no, my Lord... I'll slow down my cultivation and wait for you to break through before I catch up."

This foolish reply amused everyone, and the squad burst into laughter.

"You silly boy," an older knight chuckled, shaking his head, "Our Lord is respected, but not for his fighting energy."

"Exactly," Louis nodded with a smile, "If you truly want to repay me, don't think about waiting for me; getting stronger quickly is the greatest tribute to me."

Weir paused, then nodded resolutely, the vision in his eyes becoming even more determined.

He murmured, "I will, my Lord. I will not disappoint you."

The patrol squad slowly tread across the snowy ground, with snow accumulating thickly, making a solid, muffled sound underfoot.

The snow on both sides of the street had long frozen, yet at Louis's appearance, the air seemed to lose its bitterness.

Residents of Red Tide City one by one halted their tasks, emerging from wooden houses, stalls, street corners, and work sheds, either standing still, running over, kneeling, or cheering loudly.

"It's the Lord! It's Lord Louis!"

Someone, in their excitement, almost rushed forward but was gently stopped by the Personal Guard yet still clasped their hands in prayer, tears streaming down their face as they knelt in the snow.

"My son survived his illness, they said it was because of the doctor you sent... My Lord, I, I really don't know how to thank you..."

A woman, crying, held up her coarse cloth scarf high, as if offering up all she possessed.

Louis frowned slightly but did not evade, simply reaching out gently to hold her shoulders, pressing the scarf back down.

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