Snowfall City, the northernmost settlement in the northern lands, was situated at the very edge of where the Da Linghe and Little Ling River met.

These two rivers, originating from the snowy peaks of the far north, flowed through the vast ironwood forest, through Hunter, and finally converged to become the Golden Dragon River, which cut through the heart of the empire. It meandered past rich river valleys, through the Imperial Territory’s central plains, and eventually merged with the southern Endless Sea.

As a city lying on the major thoroughfare connecting the northern and southern regions, Snowfall City was truly deserving of its reputation as the first city of the northern lands. Its towering nine-meter-high walls, densely packed streets and houses, and the unending sounds of peddlers and laughter told of its grandeur and prosperity.

At Snowfall City’s gates, civilians entering or leaving the city and caravans passing through for trade waited in lines as guards inspected them. Snowfall City’s location at the southern tip of the northern lands, where two rivers converged, gave it a significant place as an important transportation hub.

Whether it was timber merchants selling ironwood from the northern forests or iron ore merchants from the western border, even sea pearls harvested from the south converged here.

“Hey, old friend, heard there’s been another scuffle between two lords over by the ironwood forest north of here.”

“Indeed, I’ve been delayed here for more than ten days already. Otherwise, this shipment would’ve already been loaded onto a ship and sent to the Imperial Capital.”

Two familiar merchants met at the city gates and struck up a conversation while they waited.

“Which two families are fighting, and which one won?”

“I heard it was the Hunter family.”

“The Hunter family?” The other merchant clearly hadn’t heard of this noble lineage before.

There were over a hundred noble families in the northern lands, and every ten years, a handful of them ceased to produce knights to inherit their titles, disappearing from the rolls of nobility altogether. Without paying close attention, few could recall each family’s name.

“Oh, they’re just some small clan near the ironwood forest. They’ve managed to build a city these past few years, so now we can sell some of our goods directly there when we go to collect timber. It’s quite convenient.”

These merchants naturally couldn’t drive their empty carriages all the way to the northernmost reaches to buy timber, so they always brought goods from other regions to sell along the way.

“It’s true, things have been a bit chaotic in the northern lands these past two years. More and more nobles have taken up arms, and even many knights have died; such violence was unthinkable in years past.”

“What’s so chaotic about it? It’s just some petty squabbles between country bumpkin nobles. The northern lands aren’t chaotic, not as long as this place is here.” As the merchant spoke, he extended his thumb toward the “Snowfall City” sign above the gate tower. “That’s what counts.”

“True, we don’t need to worry ourselves with such matters. It’s enough to earn a decent living.”

“Next! Hurry up,” the gatekeeper soldier said, impatiently scanning the line of people waiting to enter.

“Here I come.”

“Let’s grab a bite to eat once this shipment goes through.”

With that, the two merchants hurried toward the city gate, pulling their horse and cart along.

The conversation between these two merchants was peppered with reverence toward Snowfall City, and its strength was indeed a matter of common knowledge among the northern lands.

The Marquis of the Northern Lands, the Lancelot Family, were the masters of Snowfall City. Though the current family head, Wade Lancelot, was already eighty years old, he remained a formidable grand knight.

Of his four sons, only the youngest, who had been born with a weak constitution, was unable to cultivate. The eldest and second sons were both accomplished knights, and the third son had reached the peak of quasi-knight level, with rumors even circulating that he had achieved grand knight rank—quite an astonishing feat.

The Lancelot Family’s branches had produced numerous other talents, and altogether they boasted more than twenty knights.

Lesser nobles like the House of Wil and the previous Hunter family could rarely produce even a single knight per generation, and often their greatest concern was who would inherit their title. By contrast, the Lancelot Family had at least thirty knights, not counting their grand knight, a pillar of support in times of crisis.

Under the command of Snowfall City stood nearly ten thousand warriors known as the Jingbei Army. These were not the sort of militia who trained a few times a year but rather a professional army that lived in barracks year-round, a force of incomparable strength. They were the foundation of Snowfall City’s regional hegemony.

In terms of elite power, the Lancelot Family alone boasted more than twenty knights, and when combined with the large number of knights who had joined the Lancelot Family’s ranks, their forces numbered over a hundred. More than half the knights of the entire northern lands gathered beneath the banner of the Lancelot Family’s white wolf.

As for quasi-knights, they were too numerous to count. The Jingbei Army alone boasted over a thousand serving as junior officers, but these were merely the tip of the iceberg.

It could be said that the Lancelot Family was the local emperor of the northern lands, and so long as they did not raise a rebellion, no one could check their power.

Within a lavish mansion in Snowfall City, a young man dressed in luxurious satin was fiddling with a tea set on a table, seemingly preparing to brew something. A middle-aged man in light armor respectfully stood beside him.

“Young Master Lint, this is the gift registry from the Hunter family. Please take a look.”

The young man placed the tea set down and casually flipped through the registry.

“Ho, quite valuable. Doesn’t seem like the sort of thing a minor noble would be able to afford.”

“Tell me, what do they want?” Gifts of such value were not given away for free.

The subordinate briefly explained the situation to Lint, who listened with rapt interest.

“Sander, what are your thoughts?”

“They’re daring, but their ambitions are too great for their station.”

“Ha ha ha, it’s not every day I get to hear Sander speak so bluntly.”

“Tell me, should I help them or refuse?”

“That is entirely up to you, young master.”

Despite having seen through Richard’s scheme, Sander didn’t think much of it. From the perspective of Snowfall City, the conflict between the Hunter and House of Wil was akin to a squabble between two groups of ants fighting over a breadcrumb that had fallen to the ground.

Meanwhile, Lint found some intriguing details in this simple case.

“A few against many, and waiting to strike until the enemy has committed themselves. Interesting.”

“Sander, get me all the information we have on the Hunter family,” Lint muttered, turning to Sander.

“Yes, my lord.”

Lint’s full name was Lint Lancelot, and he was the fourth son of the Lancelot Family, the youngest son of Marquis Wade.

Though he had been frail since birth and could not follow the path of a knight, he used his sharp mind and status as a Lancelot to establish the northern lands’ largest merchant guild, amass a group of subordinates, and weave an extensive intelligence network across the region. He was far from the useless cripple most people believed him to be.

“My lord, here’s everything we have on the Hunter family. The most recent update is about their clash with the House of Wil a month ago.”

“Hm,” Lint responded, burying himself in the documents with a thorough read.

Due to the limitations of information dissemination in this era, some delay in less important reports was to be expected. As Lint read, his eyebrows furrowed deeper and deeper, and he began to mutter to himself.

“Land grants, fortress construction, military achievements, powerful peasant soldiers, tax reforms, and ingenious machinery.” Lint ticked off the points on his list with his quill, then set it down to fall into a long period of contemplation.

After a stretch of silence, Lint relaxed his brows. “Sander, let’s help him this time and act on his requests.”

“Also, moving forward, let’s make any intelligence related to the Hunter family and Richard a top priority.”

“The Hunter family is just a minor noble, even if they’ve annexed the Wil estate. Is this really necessary?” 

Once an intelligence report’s priority level was set to one, the resources allocated to gathering related information would increase exponentially. To expend so much effort on a seemingly insignificant figure, as far as Sander was concerned, seemed rather counterproductive.

However, Lint showed no sign of anger at his chief’s skepticism, instead demonstrating considerable patience. “Sander, do you know what I saw in these reports?”

“Please enlighten me, my lord.”

“It’s change. In this kingdom that stagnates and slowly rots, I see a glimmer of hope for change.”