Read Novel Full Chapter 694 - 393: The Castle of Red Tide
Chapter 694: Chapter 393: The Castle of Red Tide
In the early spring of the Northern Territory, the snow was still heavy, and the convoy moved forward slowly, the wooden wheels rolling over the permafrost, emitting a muffled sound.
The southern merchant Solton pulled his cloak tighter, still feeling the cold seeping into his bones.
With a frown, he looked at the vast whiteness of the Northern Territory ahead, his tone filled with disdain.
Throughout the journey, he heard more than once that Lord Louis, the Red Tide Lord, was building the "most luxurious main castle in the Northern Territory," more extravagant than the Silver Castle or the Holy Dragon Cathedral.
Every time Solton heard this, he felt as if he were listening to a joke.
A nouveau riche in the Northern Territory, no matter how he tosses, can he pile up stones into a miracle?
"Old John, I really don’t understand how you can stand this godforsaken place. The winter in the Imperial Capital is a hundred, no, a thousand times better than here." He snorted, opening his mouth as if to deliberately show off his knowledge.
"I’ve sat at banquets at the Silver Castle and listened to sacred music at the Holy Dragon Cathedral. I’ve heard your Red Tide territory has built some main castle; in my view, it’s just country folk stacking stones a little higher, pretending to be something they’re not."
He gestured to the distance, "Isn’t the most luxurious place here just Duke Edmund’s old fortress? That thing is just a bigger stone cage. Your Lord Louis, however wealthy... can he turn stone into gold?"
Old John listened, merely smiling, without refuting.
......
"Sir, wake up! We’ve arrived at Red Tide City!"
Solton had been dozing in the carriage, groggily waking from the bumps.
Hearing this, he frowned as he confusedly opened his eyes, and without a chance to complain, he reached out to lift the curtain.
The dazzling light poured in sharply, waking him up as if doused with cold water, clearing his mind in an instant.
The complaints that were originally on his lips were stuck in his throat, unable to utter a word.
The lights of the outer city spread out neatly, as if measured with a ruler.
But what truly rendered him speechless was the main castle standing in the deepest part.
It wasn’t the kind of Northern Territory fortress he remembered, rough, gloomy, and filled with grey stone cracks.
Solton sat frozen in the carriage, looking up, motionless.
The first thing he saw was the overly complete shape of the main castle.
There were no common cracked stone seams of the Northern Territory, no moss traces grown full of frost.
The entire building seemed like a chunk of iron forcibly peeled from a mountain, polished until not an inch flawed.
The oppressive inward arc of the outer wall, from below looking up, felt as if a slumbering giant beast was overlooking.
That feeling of being shrouded made Solton’s knees tremble slightly in the wind.
Four towers rose from the spine-like structure of the main castle, the copper-red domes emitting a faint glow under the gloomy sky, like embers buried in metal.
The most striking feature stood on the high slope, the western tower.
Its outline was sharp, like a giant iron eagle folding its wings, quietly resting at the snow line’s edge.
Solton originally thought Red Tide City would be like other Northern Territories, full of rough stones and crude wooden beams.
But the closer he got, the more details he could see hidden behind its massive silhouette.
Between the towers were faintly glowing runes, steadily like breathing, and the white steam spewing from the gaps, weaving around the wind to form a thin warm mist surrounding the castle’s perimeter.
And those massive devices wrapped on the wall tops, revealing only a few metal curves, like lurking skeletons.
These things made no sound, yet Solton inexplicably felt they were watching him.
For the first time, he had the ridiculous notion that this place did not belong to mortals.
Not out of piety but out of an instinctive sense of submission.
He almost wanted to kneel, like a mouse facing the shadow of a giant beast, afraid to lift his head.
"This...is a castle?" he rasped, "No...it seems like some kind of...."
He couldn’t describe it, his gaze falling on the brass sun totem above the main gate, which hung there quietly but seemed to overlook the arrivals.
"Old John..." Solton barely spoke, "Who exactly is Lord Louis...?"
Old John didn’t immediately answer, just looked at the castle with a solemn expression.
"Our sun," he whispered.
......
In late spring, as the snow line of the Northern Territory receded, the weather had not fully cleared.
The air carried the mossy stench and damp cold mist, this wetness more unbearable than the dry cold winter winds, as if it were specifically drilling into one’s joints.
For the nobles of the Old North, this was still a detestable season.
Cloaks always stained with mud, shoe soles constantly slipping, and with any inattention, rheumatism would cling to the knees and spine.
Lady Irina stood on the carriage steps, habitually lifting her skirt, even though the steps had already been wiped clean, she still instinctively did so with caution.
She didn’t come alone.
A short distance ahead, Louis was holding his two-year-old daughter, with his other hand holding five-year-old Orsus, softly soothing the little one not to run around.
Emily held his arm, her other hand holding her eight-year-old brother Isaac, like taking two children for a stroll.
Sif, wearing close-fitting leather armor, walked in the rear position, her gaze casually sweeping her surroundings, occasionally exchanging a knowing glance with Louis.
This family walked side by side, appearing particularly warm in the muddy Northern Territory spring.
Time was rather forgiving to Lady Irina.
A few strands of silver had appeared at her temples, yet she didn’t show much weariness.
But the Northern Territory’s frost always made her think a step further, whether it was mud or the castle not far ahead.
It was a castle she had witnessed for more than four years.