Inside the Magic Explosion Bullet testing field.

Hillco raised his hand, carefully presenting the palm-sized Magic Explosion Bullet encased in ceramic to Louis.

"This is the first-generation finished product." His voice trembled yet was filled with pride. "Throw it, and it can blast a three-meter-thick stone into fragments. Do you know? I even used only the content of one Magic Crystal."

As he spoke, he lit it, and with a toss, only a "whoosh" sound was heard.

The Magic Explosion Bullet traced a graceful arc, landing on a large stone in the distance set as a test target.

In the next moment——

"Boom!!"

The blast wind swept up debris, dust surged, and the giant rock shattered instantly, emitting a massive explosion sound.

"Just give me a little more time." Hillco laughed softly, with an unusual spark in his eyes, "I can find the perfect ratio, by then... maybe I can bring down an entire hillside with a single blast."

"No problem." Louis couldn't help but laugh along.

It was the smile of a Lord glimpsing the first gleam of a future war divine artifact.

"Lord!"

A shout with the unique tone of a young man interrupted his excitement.

Weir came running from the end of the passage, his tone unable to conceal his excitement: "The Emperor's envoy is here!"

Louis did not immediately turn around, just gently exhaled a breath, as if this news was already anticipated.

"Hmm, I know." He replied calmly, with no emotional fluctuations.

In fact, he had long known.

Two months ago, he received a tip from the Daily Intelligence System:

[The central document of the Empire has been drafted to promote him from Baron to Viscount and intends to send an envoy to read and bestow it.]

More unexpectedly, this time the Imperial Capital made the decision for an "on-the-spot ennoblement."

Typically, even Northern Territory ennoblements require personal attendance at the Imperial Capital for the ceremony officiated by a Ceremonial Officer.

But now, due to the unrest in the Northern Territory and the perilous journey, the Emperor personally ordered the special envoy to conduct the grand ceremony, recognizing his military merits.

Weir stepped closer and whispered, "Old Bradley is already waiting in the main hall, his face smiling into wrinkles."

"Then let's not keep the esteemed guest waiting." Only then did Louis curl his lips into a slight smile.

......

When Louis pushed open the door, the envoy from the Imperial Capital was already seated in the center of the hall.

He wore a knight's robe trimmed with purple and gold, with the Imperial Dragon Badge embroidered on the cuffs and collar, exuding a calm and imposing presence, like a longsword standing silently, commanding awe without anger.

Louis immediately recognized his Extraordinary Knight status and his Blood Dragon Legion badge.

And an attendant stood behind him, holding a red lacquered wooden box.

The box lid was open, lined with Imperial black velvet, with two items placed centrally: a scroll with gilt edges appointing him, and a Viscount's Badge gleaming with silver light.

A deep, solemn voice echoed in the hall: "In the name of the Emperor, hereby conferring Louis Calvin the rank of Viscount, for his outstanding merits in defeating the enemy and protecting the territory in the Northern Territory—especially rewarded."

The courtier had yet to say more, and the atmosphere in the hall was already electrified.

Bradley the Old Butler stood by, trying hard to maintain composure, but his quivering lips betrayed his inner excitement.

He had witnessed many storms in his lifetime, yet Louis rising from an obscure Northern Territory Pioneer Lord to this day in just one year still shocked him.

"One year... only one year." He murmured softly.

Weir stood in the line, his fists clenched tightly, as if trying to suppress the boiling blood in his chest.

"Viscount...!" he murmured this new title, his eyes full of respect and longing, "Louis is indeed formidable!"

Sif stood a bit further away.

She didn't quite understand what a Viscount represented, nor did she know if this ennoblement meant new responsibilities or crises.

But she knew, the image of this man standing on the steps, against the backdrop of a golden-patterned flag, was truly so captivating that she couldn't look away.

She was happy for him, truly.

And when all eyes turned to Louis.

He simply stood there, without panic, without excitement, even the smile at the corner of his mouth was faint.

As if all of this... was already under his control.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." He responded softly, his voice not loud, yet loud enough for everyone to hear, "I will continue to guard this land in the name of Viscount."

Surprisingly, the ennoblement ceremony ended simply, and as soon as it was over, the envoy prepared to leave promptly.

There was no extra chitchat, nor any expectation of hospitality.

Just as everyone was still immersed in the lingering joy, Louis had already quietly donned his cloak and personally escorted the envoy out.

The snow was falling, and the Northern Territory wind was as cold as ever.

Outside the castle, the carriage was already prepared, horse hooves leaving deep impressions in the snow.

Louis walked beside the envoy, draped in a wolf fur cloak, his steps steady.

"Stay for dinner tonight?" he asked gently and sincerely, "We don't have any fine wine here, but the smoked fish and demon beast meat still have some flavor. You probably haven't tasted snow wolf ribs before."

Upon hearing this, the envoy brushed off his cloak with a smile, seeming to appreciate Louis' gesture, yet he shook his head.

"I still have to rush to the next ennoblement location," he replied with a relaxed tone, yet with a touch of official propriety, "In the Northern Territory, you're not the only one who has achieved military success."

"Then I won't insist," Louis nodded, not pressing further.

He turned back and gestured, and a knight brought out a heavy chest, placing it on the snow, the lid opening to reveal a faint golden glow.

No elaborate gemstone ornamentation, just bags of thick gold coins neatly stacked, simple and straightforward.

"Just some specialties from the Northern Territory, as a token of respect," Louis said frankly, his tone humble and courteous.

The envoy glanced over, somewhat shocked by the directness of the Northern nobles' bribery.

But he nodded, indicating he was very satisfied.

"Convey my regards to His Majesty," Louis added in a low voice.

"I will," the envoy replied, swiftly mounting his horse as before.

The carriage soon drove into the snow and wind, its tracks leaving marks in the snow, gradually fading away.

Louis stood quietly in place, not in a hurry to return.

The wind swept through his cloak, lifting the edges of his hair as he gazed towards the direction the carriage had gone, his eyes devoid of much longing.

...

The city of Frost Halberd had yet to fully awaken that morning.

The morning mist slid down from the carved railings at the top of the White Tower, drifting gently like feathers into the garden.

In the greenhouse, a cluster of snow jasmines slowly bloomed under the call of a new round of sunlight, pure and fragile.

Emily stood in the center of the greenhouse, dressed in a gray-blue morning robe, her long hair pinned up, with a trace of dew on her sleeve.

She looked down at the stubbornly blooming cluster of snow jasmines, as if lost in thought.

Her fingertips gently brushed over the petals, but her gaze had long drifted far away.

A few days ago, her father Edmond's words still echoed in her ears.

His tone was not commanding, and even carried a hint of jest.

But she knew this was an irrefutable statement, so natural as if her entire life had been meticulously planned, needing only to follow the blueprint.

Emily was well aware of the responsibilities that noblewomen must bear, yet an unquenchable wave stirred within her heart.

She was not a fragile glass vase, easily placed in any corner, not even by her father's hand.

"Louis Calvin," she murmured that name, with a hint of doubt, "What kind of person is he, really?"

Was he the young hero from the rumors, who achieved great military exploits on the battlefield?

Or just some nobleman elevated to high position by a stroke of luck during the Northern war?

She refused to construct a future image based solely on accolades she heard.

She wanted to see, hear, and judge for herself if this man, who might potentially spend a lifetime beside her, was worth her dedication.

"Nora," she called.

There was a prompt response from outside the door, and a maid in a gray dress entered the greenhouse lightly, speaking respectfully, "Miss?"

"I intend to take a trip," Emily said, her eyes steady, but with a hint of stubbornness at the corner of her lips, "This time, for our 'wondrous journey,' we'll take a bit of a detour."

Nora was slightly taken aback, as 'wondrous journey' was their code for sneaking out.

She immediately guessed Emily's thoughts, "Are you going… to Red Tide Territory, Miss?"

"Shh." Emily raised a finger, "Tell no one about this except you. I want to see for myself what kind of person he is, not just hear from others or from father."

Nora hesitated for a moment, but eventually nodded, "I understand. I will arrange the carriage and attire."

"Make sure the clothes are plain. I don't want to be recognized along the way." Emily turned and left the greenhouse, her fingertips still lingering with the fragrance of snow jasmine.

As she walked through the white stone corridor, she looked back once, seeing the morning mist dissipated and sunlight casting on the slanting eaves of the castle, as if lighting a path for her unknown journey.

...

The night fell, and the lights in Frost Halberd City lit up from the high tower.

By the fireplace, Duke Edmund sat quietly at one side of the long table, the light tinkling of silverware against the porcelain plate particularly clear in the silence.

He had little appetite today, only having a bowl of hot soup and a few slices of bread brought to him.

As an old servant with a head full of silver hair approached, he walked very lightly.

"The young lady left the city this morning, taking only her personal maid, Nora, heading southward," the old servant said softly, "Should I send someone to bring her back?"

"So she finally couldn't resist..." Duke Edmund said softly, without a trace of anger, rather as if it was a long-anticipated smile, "Let her go. She won't be satisfied until she sees for herself."

Edmund turned his head, instructing the attendant knight standing beside him, "Send Victor to escort her secretly, without her knowing."

Victor, a trusted guard with the strength of an extraordinary knight, immediately responded, "Yes, my lord."

The firewood in the fireplace cracked with a pop, the flames flickering, reflecting a rare warmth in the Duke's eyes.

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