Is this man truly only twenty-two years old?

The picture he painted with his words is not just a city, nor merely a piece of territory, but rather the prototype of a new Northern Territory.

It's a future she had never imagined.

Yet the brighter the future, the greater the need for a solid foundation.

Emily asked softly, "But... no matter how you plan, you'll need people to execute it. What will you do if there's not enough population?"

Louis's lips curled slightly upon hearing this, as though he'd long buried this question in his heart.

He raised one finger: "Firstly, refugees.

The war is over, but there's still a massive number of displaced people in the Northern Territory. I will set up citizen registration offices in all territories, and anyone willing to return, no matter which territory they're from, as long as they sign a household contract, I'll grant them land and cattle, provide tools and temporary housing."

"Household contract?" Emily repeated.

"Yes, once they sign, they'll be protected by Red Tide's decrees and become citizens of Red Tide. The tax burden is reasonable, labor duties are transparent, and they can receive education and opportunities for emancipation."

"It sounds very appealing."

"It certainly is, especially compared to the chaos of other territories." Louis shrugged, "I don't need to suddenly flood with hundreds of thousands of people; I just need a steadily growing structure."

Louis raised his second finger: "Then there are slaves."

Emily nodded, clearly she had thought of this too, as it's the simplest and most direct method.

Louis continued: "I can purchase them at a low price through the Calvin Commerce Association, and use them as labor for the foundational construction.

Of course, this won't be a lifelong institution. I'm prepared to establish a redemption point system where participation in labor, service, and meritorious acts can earn them freedom, which is far more transparent than releasing a batch of slaves each month.

They will become the new batch of craftsmen, road builders, miners, and porters, and also future New Red Tide People."

Without waiting for Emily's response, Louis raised his third finger: "The Barbarian Race remnants."

Emily raised her eyebrows, somewhat surprised.

"Those willing to submit, I will relocate to 'Border Guard Village' established on the border. They will be integrated into the Red Tide's Military Household System, with defined obligatory service years for training and education." Louis's tone was calm.

"In other words, their descendants will also become the shield of Red Tide."

"Do you think they will agree?" Emily asked softly.

Louis smiled faintly: "I will give them a reason to agree."

He paused, then added softly, "In the name of the Cold Moon tribe's Princess, her persuasion will carry great influence."

Emily nodded thoughtfully, thinking of her closest friend now.

"Of course, not all will believe." Louis withdrew his gaze, his eyes cool.

"Though the Barbarians are defeated, their spirit isn't broken. They may submit to reality, but that doesn't mean they won't retaliate.

Border Guard Village will be supervised by knights appointed by me, with a dual organizational structure set up, outwardly managed by the Barbarians for internal affairs, but the actual power rests with the knights.

The Military Household System will also establish joint responsibility at every level, ensuring if one errs, the whole village is penalized. Together with patrol camps and regular inspections. Any spark of betrayal will be extinguished before it can ignite."

"Furthermore," Louis added quietly, tapping his fingers lightly on Emily's leg, his voice steady, "aside from caution with the Barbarians, we also need to address our internal affairs."

Emily raised her eyes to look at him: "You mean...?"

"The Red Tide Decree." He spoke this name with evident confidence already outlined in his mind, "I intend to personally devise a foundational code to safeguard the civil rights and order of Red Tide Territory.

Clarifying property rights, cultivation rights, personal freedom, ensuring ordinary people can farm in peace and migrate freely amid the post-war ruins, without lurking in fear and chaos."

"Additionally, it must specify standards for rewards and punishments. Whoever contributes in war, or works for reconstruction, can be promoted based on merit, granted land, and established estates; while traitors, insurgents, and those who loot civilians, regardless of origin, must be publicly tried and severely punished."

He paused, his gaze sharpening slightly: "This guarantees internal order and is a moral leverage for external expansion.

When in the future we expand our territory, we can declare that what we bring is not conquest, but civilization."

"But just having decrees, the populace might not understand." Emily softly reminded.

Louis laughed lightly, seemingly long planned: "Thus, we must create history.

From temple fairs to theaters, from classrooms to storytelling stands, all promotional content must be unified. I will make sure every inhabitant of the Northern Territory hears one voice.

Red Tide Territory saved the Northern Territory, Louis defeated the Barbarian King Titus, it is us who ushered in peace and the future.

I will employ poets to write 'The Chronicle of Barbarian Disaster,' detailing Titus's madness and the bloodshed of the Barbarian Army vividly, then depict my moment of hope amidst the Bone Sepulchre Canyon as if a divine miracle descended.

Then seal this memory into the children's textbooks, retell it in elder's fireside stories, sing it in the wandering minstrels' tavern poems."

Emily's lips curved faintly, "Will you give yourself a title too? Savior? Lord of Holy Light?"

Louis chuckled, but his tone was unusually calm: "The Sun of the Northern Territory, that's what they said; I merely permitted it."

Emily leaned lightly on his shoulder.

"...Indeed, I wasn't mistaken about you." She whispered, her voice almost inaudible, "You are unique, Louis."

The wheels rolled across the snow, banners unfurled like waves.

......

While the Lord and his lady sat in the main wagon, planning the grand plans for the Northern Territory's future.

Behind their wagon, dozens of large carts slowly followed the team, carrying the families of the Broken Blade Knight Order. They brought with them packed belongings, pots, and varied emotions, heading to their unknown "new home."

The wagon shook constantly, with a slight wooden creak, as it traveled the snow and ice-covered road.

"Clang!"

A wheel rolled over a stone, the wagon shook, Mary instinctively hugged her daughter tight.

She was the wife of Smith, the squad leader of the Broken Blade Knight Order, hailing from a middle-class merchant family in Frost Halberd City, not quite accustomed to this kind of mass migration.

At this moment, Mary sat in the corner of the wagon, leaning on a folded blanket and wooden box.

Beside her, four or five women also held children or accompanied elders sitting on blankets, their expressions mostly weary.

One short-haired woman clicked her tongue, "I heard the place has just settled from turmoil, and the city gates are burnt down."

"I also heard it's Barbarian territory..." another older woman whispered in agreement, "Those Red Tide People... aren't they just wild tribes from the north?"

Mary didn't respond, she just wrapped her cloak tighter, pulling her daughter closer into her embrace.

She had heard of Red Tide Territory, but only that Duke Edmund's daughter seemed to have married the Lord there.

Beyond that, she knew nothing.

Is this a place where she can entrust her family's future?

Mary thought of the annual spring flower market she used to visit in Frost Halberd City and looked at the jolting old wagon carrying them along, snow and mud clinging to the wheels; she even doubted how many more days the wagon floor could last.

A cold wind seeped through the cracks, and she shivered.

......

At dusk, the last ray of the setting sun fell behind the mountains.

The convoy camped at the mountain's base, several large pots stood over campfires, salty porridge bubbling with heat.

Smith personally delivered wooden bowls to the convoy's wagon, eager to see his wife and daughter.

He climbed onto the wagon and lifted the canvas, instantly spotting the familiar figure in the corner.

"Hurry and eat something warm," he smiled as he handed her a wooden bowl.

Mary took the bowl, feeling the warmth of the wood, but didn't immediately drink.

"Smith… are we really taking the children to such a distant place?" Her voice carried deep unease.

Smith paused for a moment, then, as he always did, gently tousled the top of her head.

"Once we're there," he whispered, "you'll understand."

......

Nightfall descended, and the snowfield returned to silence.

The central wagon of the camp still glowed with candlelight, where a young lord sat under the lamp, intricately sketching the future territories and cities of the Northern Territory.

Meanwhile, in the family wagon at the convoy's end, a mother softly hummed an off-tune lullaby, gently soothing her child to sleep.

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