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The evening sun spilled its fading afterglow across the Red Tide Territory, casting long shadows over the snow-dusted land. Wisps of steam rose steadily from the hot spring area, drifting into the chill northern air like pale ribbons.
Inside the smokehouse built beside the springs, several rows of smoked fish hung neatly from wooden racks. Their skins had turned a rich golden-brown, slightly wrinkled from dehydration, and the air was thick with a deep, savory aroma of salt and smoke. It was the kind of scent that lingered in the nose and stirred the appetite even after one stepped away.
Louis stood quietly among the racks, his eyes carefully inspecting the fish that had been smoking for hours. He reached out, pressing one lightly with his finger. The surface was dry yet resilient, springing back slightly under pressure.
He nodded in satisfaction.
"M-My Lord…" Sally stood beside him, her voice hesitant. Her hands twisted together unconsciously at her waist, betraying her nervousness. She watched Louis closely, her eyes filled with quiet anxiety, afraid that the smoked fish she had overseen might not meet his expectations.
Louis lifted his gaze to her and spoke calmly, his tone carrying clear approval. "The smoking process is excellent. The texture is right, and the color is very good."
Sally's shoulders visibly relaxed. A timid, relieved smile spread across her face as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "It's all… all because I followed the method you taught us. Without… without your guidance, how could we have done this?"
"It's your skill," Louis replied simply.
He tore off a small piece of smoked fish and placed it in his mouth. The flesh was firm and dry, as expected, but as he chewed, the rich smoky flavor gradually spread across his tongue. The salt had penetrated evenly, and there was no lingering fishy taste. It was far better than the crude dried fish commonly eaten in the Northland.
Beside him, Silco stood with his arms crossed, stifling a wide yawn. The dark circles beneath his eyes were so pronounced that they looked as though they might reach his chin.
It wasn't that Louis was deliberately overworking him. In truth, the entire Red Tide Territory had only two people who could read and write—Louis himself and Silco. As a result, Silco had no choice but to shoulder an overwhelming amount of administrative work.
From dawn until late night, six days a week—996, as Louis jokingly called it.
Today, to compensate him somewhat, Louis had brought him along to the smokehouse to sample the results.
"Here, try some," Louis said casually, handing him a piece of smoked fish.
Despite his exhaustion, a flicker of curiosity appeared in Silco's tired eyes. He took a bite, chewing slowly before raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "This tastes much better than I expected."
"That's thanks to Sally's hard work," Louis said, giving her another word of praise.
At the sound of her name, Sally immediately grew flustered. She waved her hands hurriedly, her face reddening. "N-No, no, no. I only did what you told us to do. I don't really understand these things…"
Louis listened without interrupting, but his attention soon returned to the rows of smoked fish swaying gently in the rising steam.
The Red Tide Territory lay deep within the cold Northland, where harsh winters dominated most of the year. Food resources were scarce, and survival depended heavily on careful planning and preparation.
Fishing was one of their most important sources of food. However, during winter and early spring, the rivers froze solid, and catches became nearly impossible. Without sufficient preserved food, famine was a constant threat.
If the territory were to survive the long winter, Louis needed a reliable method of food preservation.
That was why he had come up with this idea—using geothermal heat from the hot springs to smoke fish.
"Hot spring smoked fish?" Silco had asked skeptically when Louis first proposed it. "Can that really work?"
"Compared to simple air-drying, smoking removes more moisture and extends the preservation time," Louis had explained at the time. "Even if it only improves things slightly, it's worth trying."
And so, he had selected Sally—meticulous, patient, and skilled with her hands—and placed her in charge of the initial experiments, along with several other women from the territory.
The process itself was anything but simple.
The first step was fish preparation. Each fish had to be cut open and cleaned thoroughly, removing all internal organs. However, the skin had to remain intact.
The skin served two purposes. First, it prevented the fish meat from breaking apart during the smoking process. Second, it helped lock in flavor, improving both taste and texture.
Once cleaned, the fish were cured with coarse salt. Depending on the weather and humidity, this process could take anywhere from several hours to an entire day. Salting helped remove excess moisture, eliminated unpleasant odors, and prepared the fish for smoking.
The second step involved building the smoking racks.
Near the hot springs, the women wove racks using branches, bamboo strips, and tough vines. Simple windbreaks and insulation were added on both sides to retain heat while still allowing steam from the springs to pass through.
The goal was to let the warm, mineral-rich vapor penetrate the fish evenly without losing too much heat to the surrounding air.
The final step was smoking.
Geothermal heat was not entirely stable, so the smoking process had to be divided into multiple rounds over two to three days. Too much heat would cause the fish to harden excessively, ruining the texture. Too little heat, on the other hand, would fail to preserve the fish properly.
Every batch required careful monitoring and adjustment.
It was tedious, demanding work—but thanks to Sally's persistence and repeated trials, they had already achieved small-scale success.
The fish hanging in the smokehouse now represented more than just food. They were hope—hope that the Red Tide Territory could endure the coming winter.
After surveying the racks one last time, Louis nodded slightly. "We can expand the scale."
Sally's eyes widened in surprise. She and the other women had worked tirelessly for days, unsure whether their efforts would truly be recognized.
In a world dominated by military strength, women rarely held important roles. If they were entrusted with such a critical task as food preservation, their status within the territory would inevitably rise.
Carefully, she asked, "My Lord… are you saying you want us to be responsible for all the smoked fish production?"
"You've already proven your ability," Louis replied calmly, his gaze sweeping over the smokehouse. "When we expand, those with experience will naturally take charge."
Sally's heart raced. She clutched her apron tightly, a sense of security she had never known before welling up inside her.
"Thank you, My Lord!" she said, bowing deeply, her voice trembling with emotion.
Louis smiled faintly. "It is I who should thank you."
At that moment, a knight approached and whispered, "Lord Louis, Lambert has returned."
Louis's eyes brightened. Today truly was full of good news.
He quickened his pace toward the residential area, where three figures had just entered the territory.
Lambert stepped forward and knelt on one knee. "Mission accomplished," he said quietly.
Louis nodded, relief evident in his expression. Lambert's steady demeanor always inspired confidence.
"You've worked hard," Louis said. His gaze then shifted to the two Elite Knights standing behind Lambert. They looked exhausted, but their posture remained disciplined, and not a single complaint crossed their faces.
"We'll go over the full report tomorrow," Louis continued, a gentle smile appearing. "For now, rest well. At tomorrow's commendation ceremony, you'll receive the rewards you deserve."
"Yes!" the three replied in unison, bowing respectfully.
"Leave the seeds, then go rest."
Without hesitation, the knights handed over their bundles to an attendant and departed. Long-distance travel using battle qi drained both body and mind, even for Elite Knights.
Louis watched them until they disappeared from sight, then turned and walked toward his office. The attendant followed closely behind, carrying several large and small bags.
Inside the office, the bags of seeds were placed neatly on the desk—tangible proof of the mission's success.
Louis dismissed the attendant with a wave.
When the door closed softly behind him, Louis approached the desk and began sorting through the seeds, guided by the prompts of his intelligence system.
At last, he picked up a single seed and examined it closely.
It was reddish-brown, smooth, and unremarkable at first glance—almost identical to an ordinary cranberry seed. Without the intelligence system, he would never have noticed anything special.
But this seed was anything but ordinary.
It was the Frost Blood Red Berry, a rare demonized fruit native to the extreme cold regions of the Northland. Consuming it could strengthen the body and greatly assist in condensing a knight's battle qi.
If successfully cultivated, it would become not only a unique specialty of the Red Tide Territory, but also a strategic resource coveted by powerful nobles.
Louis gazed at the seed, his thoughts already racing ahead.
In his mind's eye, he saw not just crops growing in frozen soil—but mountains of gold and silver rising before him.
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