Though it was already spring, the Northern Province remained bitterly cold with piercing winds. Even wrapped in thick cloaks, it was difficult to ward off that bone-deep chill.
"Sir, we're almost there." A knight reined in his horse and quietly reported to the elder at the front of the group.
Bradley nodded slightly, his expression unchanged, still riding silently across the frozen earth.
This group traveled across the desolate Northern Province lands in silence.
Not because they had no complaints about this mission, but out of awe for Bradley.
He was Duke Tudor's old steward, holding high position and great power. His status within the Tudor family was not inferior to some branch nobles.
Even if the knights had doubts, they dared not speak freely in his presence.
Along the way they passed multiple pioneering territories, all broken and desolate.
Even Frost Halberd City, where the Northern Province Governor's office was located, seemed nothing more than a shabby military outpost in these southerners' eyes.
No one expected Crimson Tide Domain to be any different.
Bradley felt the same way.
In his impression, Vaerik was merely one of the duke's twenty-some children—average talent, honest personality, even somewhat boring.
Never valued since childhood, sent to this bitter Northern Province wasteland several months ago to fend for himself.
Yet now in his letter to the duke, he claimed his pioneering territory was well-governed and developing well, even discovering precious magical marrow mines.
Bradley was skeptical of this letter's contents.
A young man not yet twenty, with almost no resource support, could manage a wasteland so well?
Too exaggerated.
Moreover, magical marrow had always been an extremely scarce resource for the Iron Blood Empire, which relied almost entirely on imports from the Jade Federation.
And in his pioneering territory, he had discovered large quantities of magical marrow mines?
This probably contained some exaggeration.
But regardless, he had come, without any complaints or slacking.
Because he was Bradley, the most loyal steward of the Tudor family.
He wanted to see whether this young lord could truly support everything he described in his letter.
If Vaerik showed value worth cultivating, he would fully assist him.
If Vaerik disappointed him, he would not hesitate to withdraw all support.
In the cold wind, the outline of Crimson Tide Domain gradually emerged.
In the distance on the mountain path, Vaerik rode a black warhorse, wearing a thick wolf-fur cloak, his black hair stirred by the wind.
His appearance was quite similar to the duke—about seventy percent—but compared to the duke, he had less majesty and more refinement.
At his feet stood a well-built young dire wolf, carrying an untamed wild aura.
This scene caused Bradley's evaluation of Vaerik to rise several notches in his heart.
At least much better than the useless young master he had imagined.
The knights were also somewhat surprised. They had expected to be greeted by a fallen young master trapped in a barren fief and in dire straits, but hadn't expected him to be so composed and confident.
He had even tamed a dire wolf.
Vaerik rode forward and respectfully bowed to Bradley: "Mr. Bradley, you've had a hard journey. Welcome to Crimson Tide Domain."
Bradley returned the courtesy with standard steward etiquette. Though his attitude wasn't warm, it was faultless: "You're too kind, young master. Duke Tudor asked me to bring some support, hoping it might help you."
"I keep father's care in my heart."
Bradley silently observed Vaerik, already having a somewhat better impression of him.
After all, maintaining such composed noble bearing in this barren and harsh Northern Province was not easy.
Vaerik rode slowly forward, his gaze sweeping over the troops and supplies Bradley had brought, his heart stirring slightly.
Three elite knights, ten formal knights, thirty knight apprentices.
Dozens of craftsmen, physicians, and other talents.
Several large carts of grain—wheat flour, dried meat, pickled vegetables.
Cold-resistant crop seeds, dozens of black-horned cattle, cold-land sheep, cold-resistant warhorses...
He originally hadn't held much hope for his father's support, since he wasn't a valued son.
But now it seemed this batch of supplies far exceeded expectations.
The old man had spent some gold coins after all, though this was still just a drop in the bucket for the Tudor family.
Bradley said in a flat tone: "Young master, these things aren't much—consider it giving you an opportunity."
He paused, repeating the duke's exact words:
"If you can govern the territory well, the family will provide additional investment. But if you show any incompetence, the family will immediately withdraw all support."
Vaerik just smiled slightly: "I will treasure this opportunity."
As Vaerik observed the aid, Bradley was also observing Crimson Tide Domain.
Upon first entering this land, it looked no different from other Northern Province territories—desolate, barren, lifeless.
Bradley nodded to himself. Indeed, just as he had expected.
But as the group went deeper, his expression gradually became subtle.
First to catch his eye were large fields of thriving crops, and patches of wasteland still being reclaimed.
The subjects worked with great energy, sweat mixed with dirt, yet their faces showed no complaints—instead, they radiated hope.
This wasn't right. How was this accomplished?
Other pioneering territories in the Northern Province were mostly still in the planting stage at this time, yet Crimson Tide Domain's crops were already approaching harvest?!
Even new reclamation work was proceeding simultaneously.
What did this mean?
It meant Vaerik was far ahead of other pioneering lords in agricultural management.
Bradley noticed the neatly arranged semi-subterranean communal dwellings lining both sides of the road. Though simple, these buildings were all newly constructed.
Obviously, these had been completed recently.
In other words, Crimson Tide Domain had not only solved survival problems but had also expanded infrastructure in a short time.
This point was even stronger than some territories that had been developing for years.
All along the way, Bradley saw more and more.
...
Each detail made Bradley's frown deepen.
But what truly shocked him were the subjects they passed along the way.
In their eyes when they looked at Vaerik, there was actually genuine love and respect shining through!
That wasn't the fearful awe of nobles, nor gratitude toward a benefactor, but a kind of almost devout faith.
"This boy—could he be a natural-born ruler?"
Bradley's heart trembled slightly as he began to reassess this unremarkable young master of his.
It could be said that Vaerik's control over Crimson Tide Domain was even more complete than the duke's rule in the south.
In his letter, he said he governed well, but now it seemed he had said far too little!
Everyone was underestimating him, but it seemed everyone had misjudged him.
Perhaps he couldn't inherit the Tudor family, but his future achievements would definitely not be low!
Thinking of this, Bradley's lips curved up slightly, his mood actually becoming somewhat pleased.
"At least it won't be boring in the Northern Province."