Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 80 A world of difference
The Duke of Edmund promoted Louis not only because of his brilliant performance, but also because of deeper considerations.

The large number of pioneering nobles sent from the south who died in this battle has already aroused the dissatisfaction of the southern aristocratic families.

Although everyone knew perfectly well that those spoiled brats had only come to the Northern Territory to complete their missions and secure fiefdoms.

However, the deaths of a large number of people at once would be difficult to explain, inevitably leading people to suspect that the Northern nobles were deliberately "using others to do their dirty work."

The best response was to promote Louis, a pioneering baron from the south.

It's not that the North is xenophobic, it's that you're all too useless.

If you had half his skills, you would have survived and made a name for yourself long ago.

Louis, ironically, benefited from this.

Louis calmly walked down from the platform.

His steps were unhurried, as if he had just received not the medals and honors that nobles craved, but a trivial daily ritual.

But wherever he went, the nobles stared at him with undisguised envy in their eyes.

Now no one dares to underestimate this nineteen-year-old baron.

The rewards continue.

The names of the award recipients were announced one by one, but none of them were names Louis recognized.

They were mostly old nobles from the North, with very few pioneering nobles from the South.

Until the military commander's voice rang out again: "Baron Jorn Tahawi, second-class military merit."

Yorn, sitting in the back row, almost jumped out of his chair. He instantly snapped awake, his face screaming, "Me too!?"

"A reward of two thousand gold coins and an additional fiefdom of one hundred square kilometers..."

As he slapped his thigh, tears welled up in his eyes. "Sucking up to the boss was definitely the best decision I ever made!"

Although he basically just followed along and stayed at the back of the group as a cheerleader, he never actually got involved in the real battle.

However, the knights under his command truly contributed in the Battle of Qingyu Ridge.

I can't believe I managed to get military merit and such a big reward.

He felt like he had just randomly bought a lottery ticket and won the jackpot.

Jon gave himself a mental pat on the back. "As expected of me, I really have good taste in choosing the right big shot."

After reading through the long list of commendations, the military commander turned the parchment in his hand, his tone suddenly turning cold:
"The commendation ceremony is over. Next, we will announce the names of those who have failed in their duties despite their military achievements."

The hall fell silent instantly, even the nobles who had been whispering among themselves shut their mouths.

The armored knights slowly entered, and several officers dressed in aristocratic military uniforms were brought in through the back door.

Their faces were deathly pale, yet they continued to defend themselves in hushed tones, their eyes darting around in fear.

Louis recognized one of them; the man with the blond curly hair and disheveled appearance was Zachary Diaz.

Many of the pioneering nobles from the south looked at each other, their eyes flashing with surprise and a subtle schadenfreude.

Meanwhile, Jon, sitting in the back row, was grinning from ear to ear, muttering, "What did he want to compete with the boss for? They're worlds apart now. He liked to play tricks, and now he's getting his comeuppance."

He thought Zachary would only be fined, but he never expected that he would be put on the disciplinary list.

The military commander, expressionless, read aloud in a cold voice:
"Zakri Diaz, former commander of the western defense zone of Snow Eagle City. On the day the war broke out, he deserted his post and fled the city. After joint verification by the Military Discipline Department, the facts were confirmed, and he was found guilty of an unforgivable crime and sentenced to death."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zachary struggled violently, backing away repeatedly, his eyes filled with fear and despair.

"No! I'm not running away! I'm... making a tactical retreat! My father is Duke Diaz! I'm a member of one of the eight great families! You can't kill me! I'm willing to pay the fine... I'm willing..."

Before he could finish speaking, a heavy slap landed on his face, knocking him to the ground, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

The people in the audience sneered in hushed tones:
"Think you're still in the south? That approach doesn't work anymore."

"The Eight Great Families? They're nothing in the Northern Territory." "A deserter... even if he dies, it's a disgrace to his family."

Zachary continued to howl and cry as he was dragged away, his voice filled with utter despair.

His once proud and handsome face is now twisted like a stray dog, devoid of any aristocratic dignity.

Louis, sitting in the front row, simply watched the scene quietly.

He sat upright, wearing the Shield of the North, a symbol of honor, on his chest.

Two pioneering nobles from the eight great noble families of Xuefeng County.

One was being led to the execution ground, crying and begging for mercy.

One was personally awarded the medal and crowned with glory.

Great difference.

Finally, the Duke of Edmund stood on the platform: "Let me say a few more words. We did very well in this battle."

Next year we will go even further, no longer passively defending; the North will take the initiative to attack the Snowsworn's strongholds.

His voice was not loud, but it was absolutely firm: "The Vow-Sworn must be completely annihilated!"
I have recorded your achievements. Next time, I want to see even more names and write them in the register of merit.

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire hall erupted in enthusiastic response.

The post-war victory celebration ceremony has officially come to a close.

Louis did not leave Frostspear City immediately, because there was a banquet that evening.

Making connections with other nobles was also something he needed to do. His foundation in the North was too weak, so he had to take this opportunity to befriend some useful nobles.

For a young nobleman who has just achieved great merit, tonight is destined to be anything but peaceful.

Sure enough, the dinner had just begun when Louis was surrounded by people before he could even pick up his glass.

The first person to approach was a well-dressed, middle-aged nobleman with neatly trimmed sideburns.

Judging from their accents, they were clearly pioneering nobles from the southwest of the empire.

He said with a hint of familiarity, "The Duke of Calvin's son is indeed like father, like son. It's truly admirable that he has achieved such military exploits in the North."

He then introduced himself, saying that he was a pioneering baron from a minor noble family in the southwest.

Like Louis, he was among the first noble sons to respond to the Expansion Act and come to the North.

“To be honest, we southerners aren’t having an easy time here.” He lowered his voice. “If you would be willing to take the brothers with you, we will definitely not let you down.”

The phrase "lead the brothers" sounded almost like a plea, with a tone that was both eager and ingratiating.

Louis remained outwardly calm, but a slight thought flickered in his mind.

He wasn't oblivious to the fact that the baron's words implied that Southerners needed to stick together and let Louis be the leader.

To be honest, this idea is a bit tempting.

But he has only just gained a foothold now, and if he forms cliques too early, he will easily arouse people's suspicion.

Not to mention the true extent of the Baron's family wealth.

He knew nothing about the man's abilities or character.

“You flatter me. The war in the North is far from over, and we are all in the same boat.” Louis raised his glass and smiled, responding smoothly. “If the opportunity arises, I will certainly work with you all to plan for development.”

It sounds very enthusiastic, but there's not a single promise made.

The middle-aged baron wanted to say something more, but before he could even steady his wine glass, he had barely opened his mouth.

Then other nobles kept coming up.

(End of this chapter)