Louis continued to explain his design philosophy. "For defense, the main gate will be reinforced with thick iron plates—not only to withstand slashes and strikes but also to resist fire attacks. The top of the stone wall will feature arrow slits, enabling our archers to fire from within at any time.
Boiling oil spouts will be concealed in strategic spots on the roof. Once the enemy approaches and attempts to climb, we'll pour scalding oil down on them. These kinds of 'dirty tricks' can significantly enhance the defensive capabilities of the earthen structure."
He concluded by patting the blueprint with pride. "A ring of stones, coated in mud and turf, a wooden framework inside, and heated by natural hot spring water—this is how we'll build the earthen castle!"
The craftsmen stood there, stunned. They hadn't expected such a simple yet practical design. What truly astonished them, however, was that Louis had managed to draft such a complete and well-thought-out blueprint in such a short time.
Several among them whispered in admiration, unable to hold back their praise. "Lord, he's a genius!"
Mike thought silently for a moment, then slowly nodded. "It's certainly feasible. We could even complete construction within half a year—or sooner. But I can't guarantee success. This kind of design has never been done before."
Louis patted him on the shoulder. "Do your best. Research the techniques and see it through."
Motivated by his words, the craftsmen quickly launched into discussion. The workshop buzzed with excitement as inspiration spread like wildfire.
If this ambitious plan succeeded, it would not only grant Red Tide Territory formidable defenses but also greatly elevate its reputation in the North.
And so, Red Tide Territory's earthen building project officially began.
As usual, Duke Calvin rose early and began his day with his preferred morning routine—stretching his muscles and joints to stay limber.
He washed, changed into fresh clothes, and finally seated himself in his study to deal with the towering stack of letters awaiting him.
Most of the correspondence was routine: land management reports, economic plans, news of noble marriages, and the resolution of minor conflicts.
Then, his eyes landed on one letter in particular.
The sender: Louis Calvin.
Duke Calvin paused, frowning slightly. The name struck a faint chord of familiarity. After a brief moment, he remembered—Louis was his eighth son, born to a concubine who had passed away early in the boy's life. A son with unremarkable talents, easily overlooked in the shadow of his more accomplished siblings.
A few months ago, in order to respond to the Emperor's Expansion Order, Calvin had casually assigned him to develop land in the desolate North.
"Ah, having too many children makes it difficult to even remember all of them," he sighed, half-joking but not without a trace of arrogance.
The Duke currently had ten daughters and twelve sons, and two concubines who were presently pregnant. When it came to raising children, he had always followed a philosophy of quantity over quality—with enough offspring, at least a few would become useful.
So far, that strategy had paid off. His eldest son, Gaius, now served as Vice-Commander of the Imperial Guard's elite "Dragon Blood Knights." He was the prime candidate to inherit the Calvin Family headship.
The Duke glanced again at the envelope stamped with the family crest. A slight impatience flickered in his eyes.
"This must be a letter asking to return home," he muttered. "Probably complaining about the harsh life in the North."
Still, since it had been sent, he decided to read it.
The letter opened with Louis's brief update, confirming he had safely arrived at his fief and that the initial setup was proceeding smoothly.
Then came something unexpected: Louis reported that his territory contained a significant deposit of Cold Iron ore—and more shockingly, that he had discovered an extremely rare magic marrow mine.
The Duke raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Magic marrow mine?
In the entire Iron-Blood Empire, such mines were exceedingly rare. Only the Emerald Federation was known to possess large ones.
The Duke didn't believe for a second that Louis had uncovered these resources through his own abilities. It was far more likely that the boy had simply stumbled upon them by sheer luck.
Still, luck was part of capability in its own way. The territory's value had now increased exponentially, enough to warrant deeper investment.
What surprised the Duke even more were Louis's requests.
He had expected the boy to ask for luxuries—fine wine, delicacies, women, perhaps even rare items for personal indulgence.
But Louis's letter contained none of that.
Instead, he had submitted a series of pragmatic and strategic requests:Skilled craftsmen to aid in construction and mining, particularly for castle building and ore extraction.Provisions, various seeds, and livestock to improve agricultural output and ensure long-term food stability.And finally, he specifically requested dripping blood stone, a rare ore that could test a person's potential to become a knight."It seems this boy is much smarter than I thought," the Duke murmured with genuine intrigue.
He tapped the table, deep in thought.
Recent political events had grown increasingly tense. The Emperor's suppression of the old nobility was becoming more overt. The Eight Great Families were being systematically weakened. New nobles were rising fast, and the battle for influence was reaching a fever pitch.
The once-stable Iron-Blood Empire was now anything but predictable—even the mighty Duke Calvin felt the pressure.
Perhaps, he mused, the North offered a new opportunity.
Naturally, he wouldn't funnel vast amounts of wealth and support into the region—not yet. But Louis's territory could serve as a strategic foothold. A seed planted early.
Having made his decision, the Duke called to his guard. "Summon Bradley."
Moments later, an elderly but sharp-eyed butler entered the study.
"Sit," Duke Calvin said, gesturing toward the chair.
He picked up the letter from Louis and placed it in front of the butler. "This is from Louis… my eighth son."
Bradley nodded slightly.
"He's requesting resources—people and supplies. I've thought it over. I'll provide some support."
The old butler read the letter quickly, then nodded again, awaiting further instruction.
"You'll travel North with the team," the Duke continued. "Investigate the magic marrow mine—see if it's real. If it is, make sure its existence remains a secret. That ore cannot be exposed."
"Yes, Duke," Bradley said respectfully. He didn't protest being assigned to such a remote, harsh place.
"I'll send a small group of seasoned craftsmen and architects to aid with construction. A squad of knights to boost their military strength. And some basic funds, tools, food, seeds, and livestock."
The Duke paused thoughtfully. "It's not much—just a chance. If Louis can manage the territory wisely, we'll gradually increase our support. If he proves incompetent, we'll pull out immediately."
Bradley bowed slightly. "Understood. I will also monitor the situation in secret to ensure everything remains under control."
The Duke stood, walking slowly to the window. He looked North, the cold expanse of that distant land vivid in his mind.
"Louis…" he murmured. "Don't disappoint me."
FOR MORE CHAPTERS
patreon.com/Johnybairstow