Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 152: Chapter 144: Supreme Mage

Yesterday he had arranged with Mike to inspect the fields and agricultural affairs today.

…

The early spring sun still carried a chill, with remnants of snow lingering between the fields.

The moist soil mixed with the rising white vapor, as if the earth was slowly awakening from hibernation.

The sound of plowing was incessant, with sturdy oxen pulling improved heavy plows, slowly advancing on the slippery soil.

The metallic blades of the heavy plow cut deep into the permafrost, turning over the black earth.

A few shirtless farmers stood barefoot in the muddy water, their cheeks reddened alternately by steam and cold wind, and their shouts rose with the white mist.

Walking along the field ridges, Mike whispered to Louis beside him, “This field was plowed last year, this year it only needs light hoeing and channel repairing.”

His boots were covered in thick mud, yet he firmly held a lump of wet soil in his hands.

Louis watched as he gently rubbed the mud open, pressing it against his palm, as if caressing something extraordinarily precious.

“It can stay warm for another day,” Mike said, his voice seemingly directed at the soil rather than a person. “The day after tomorrow, this area can be hoed.”

Louis looked down at the field ridge, where a fine stream flowed between the field ridges, winding along with the heat mist spreading, as if spring was quietly emerging from underground.

That was the hot spring water.

He vividly remembered early last spring, to seize the moment before the snow melted to plow and sow, it was he who proposed the idea of “diverting hot spring water to melt the permafrost.”

Back then, everyone still wore a look of skepticism.

But now, merely a year later, the craftsmen were already able to lay channels and set troughs on their own, even controlling the temperature differences with precision.

“You’ve done well.” He nodded approvingly with a smile.

Mike stood beside him, looking very pleased, clearly understanding the weight of this compliment.

“We diverted a branch of the southern hot spring,” he briefly explained, “The head craftsman modified the waterway structure, using pebbles for the bottom trough to stabilize the flow speed and temperature, allowing the hot water to permeate evenly into the frozen layer… we’ve started this spring a full half month earlier than last year.”

“But look,” Mike then guided the Lord to another side, pointing to a patch of soil with grayish-white crystalline deposits, “It’s salt, the geothermal thawing quickly, but it also brought up some salinity from below.

Next year we can try covering with boards to make greenhouse insulated planting. The heat won’t hit the ground directly, which can ease it a bit.”

He didn’t say much, but his words were clear, as if he had thought it over repeatedly in his mind.

“Make a note of it.” Louis nodded, gesturing to Sif beside him.

At this moment, a pungent smell wafted from ahead.

Mike paused his steps, turned around, and laughed: “Just in time, the fertilizer is ready.”

Several workers were dumping a cart of dark brown fertilizer at the head of the field.

As the lid was lifted, the odor resembled gas from a decaying animal’s intestines, straight to the nostrils.

“The base fertilizer is a new mix. Magical Beast dung, plant ash, fish entrails, with added clod powder, insects won’t approach, and it’s quite potent,” Mike proudly introduced.

“Is there enough clod powder?” Louis asked.

“This is Hillco’s new formula, the Alchemy Room is now fully producing it, enough to support the main fields for spring sowing,” Mike paused briefly, “Additionally, last year’s giant bones weren’t wasted either.”

Mike led everyone to a field marked with a “small wooden sign”. On the sign, the words [High-Efficiency Fertilizer Experimental Field] were written in charcoal.

He walked to a small fenced piece of field nearby: “This is the experimental field using Cold Crystal Ash, extracted from the Frost Giant’s body. We’re trying to see the effect.”

Louis said, “Keep pushing forward. In agriculture… you’ve done very well.”

Mike scratched his head, smiling somewhat sheepishly.

Then Mike took Louis to the nursery greenhouse.

The greenhouse was located in a low area on the northern foot of the mountain, surrounded by sturdy wooden posts and animal skins to block the wind, with a semi-transparent grease membrane on top, allowing sunlight and retaining warmth.

The air inside was moist and warm, each breath carrying the scent of soil and decaying leaves.

Mixed with a hint of sulfur, a warm current enveloped them.

Louis walked into the nursery greenhouse, and the warm, humid air immediately enveloped him.

At the center of the open space, a giant Fire-backed Turtle lay quietly asleep.

It was curled up, its shell covered with red turtle-patterned cracks, appearing as hot as a volcanic rock.

The turtle’s breathing was slow and heavy, occasionally letting out a deep snore.

Faint heat seeped from the crevices in the turtle shell, dispelling the cold in the greenhouse.

Mike whispered, “This Fire-backed Turtle was relocated from a warm zone and kept here in dormancy. Its body temperature continuously releases heat, just enough to maintain the seedbeds’ temperature… it’s our big fortune this year.”

Louis looked at the turtle lying still, secretly nodding inwardly, using Frost Leaf Vine to stabilize the Fire-backed Turtle resolved much of the temperature control issue in the nursery greenhouse.

Along the central path, seedbeds were neatly arranged on both sides.

Rye sprouts had just emerged green tips, turnips and potatoes were still quietly buried in the moist soil.

Mike explained from the side, “Your initial idea was indeed effective. The benefits of nursery growing allow us to seize time early.

Especially before field thawing, we can already start planting, avoiding high periods of pest infestations, and significantly increasing seed germination rates.”

Louis nodded, his eyes fixed on the patches of green sprouts that had already broken through the soil: “More importantly, it ensures the management during the seedling stage.

Concentrated nursery growing allows better pest control, watering, and fertilizing, and it also helps select weak seedlings, ensuring only the strongest are transplanted.”

He approached a particularly vigorous turnip seedling, lightly touching its tender leaves, feeling the vitality and readiness to sprout in the seedlings: “This is indeed a time-saving and labor-efficient method.”

But Louis also noticed something different, amid the rows of lush green seedbeds, there was a spot that seemed dim.

The edges of a few seedling leaves were blackened, the stems faintly whitish, clearly showing signs of mold infestation.

Mike quickly stepped forward, his tone carrying a hint of regret: “This row had some issues, mainly due to serious humidity at night for the past few days, and poor ventilation. I’ve asked someone to do isolation treatment, it won’t spread.”

Louis squatted down for a closer look, the moldy spots were indeed confined to a small area, processed in time.

He did not rebuke, instead, he said softly: “It’s okay, just handle it.”

These few words made Mike’s heart tremble.

He lowered his head, nodding in response: “…Yes!”

At that moment, Mike’s eyes rimmed red.

He remembered when he first came to the Red Tide Territory, still wearing the collar of a slave, his hands full of frostbite and scars, shrinking away in the mud and snow to avoid gazes.

And now he could stand in the nursery greenhouse, leading the team to farm and cultivate, his words listened to, his suggestions adopted.

All of this was given by the young Lord in front of him, he would always remember the Lord’s kindness.

Louis did not notice the redness in Mike’s eyes, nor did he perceive the weight and gratitude behind that sentence “I will always remember.”

He just looked at the rows of tender green sprouts, silently nodding in his heart: doing well.

This was what he wanted: not just a warm, humid nursery greenhouse, not just those seed leaves surrounded by mist.

It was a territory that was becoming orderly, self-sufficient, and even sustainable.

His thoughts had already surpassed this piece of greenhouse land, extending to the farther borders.

Besides the Red Tide Territory, the other five fiefdoms were also starting spring reclamation successively now.

Though they didn’t have geothermal resources, Fire-backed Turtles, or hot spring water channels like Red Tide Territory.

But they had distributed reclamation tools, basic food storage, and a set of “Red Tide mode” that had been verified through practice.

If carried through to the end, without any unforeseen events…

This winter, there is a possibility to achieve self-sufficiency for the first time, without the need to purchase grain from outside.

The warm current from the depths of the nursery greenhouse gently blew, carrying the scent of soil and vitality.

He withdrew his gaze, nodded to Mike behind him: “Keep it up, document all your experiences this year.”

Mike straightened his waist abruptly, a hint of brightness in his eyes: “Yes, Lord.”