The biting cold wind rustled, carrying ice and snow that beat against the dead tree trunks by the roadside.
Vaerik sat in a shaky carriage, the wheels grinding over the frozen soil with a dull creaking sound.
He looked down at the Northern Lord's pioneering certificate bearing the royal seal in his hand and gave a bitter smile.
Three months ago, he was hit by a dump truck and transported to another world, directly possessing the body of the Duke's son—Vaerik Tudor.
However, after being reborn as a noble, he hadn't enjoyed a single good day before being appointed as a pioneering baron, required to venture to the Northern territory to develop his own land.
This was not a good thing.
The North was frozen year-round, barren and desolate, and faced the threat of glacier giants from the north—it was no place for humans to live.
Although the empire nominally controlled the North, many areas were still under the control of the Snow Country natives.
Even two years ago, a large-scale rebellion almost caused the North to completely break away from the empire, and it took tremendous sacrifice to suppress it.
The empire thus realized that relying solely on the Northern nobility would not maintain stability in the long run.
So the emperor ordered the sons of major noble families to go to the North as pioneering lords, exchanging territory for their strength to stabilize the frontier.
At the same time, this would weaken the power of some nobles—killing two birds with one stone.
Of course, the nobles weren't fools and could see through the emperor's scheme. Most only sent expendable members of their families to satisfy the emperor.
Vaerik was one of them.
As the least promising of the twelve sons of Duke Tudor, he naturally became the first choice for this task.
After receiving the pioneering certificate, his family gave him eight hundred gold coins, several carts of food, three elite knights, ten formal knights, and thirty knight apprentices, then urged him to get on his way quickly.
Just looking at this lineup, it was obvious that Duke Tudor had no intention of letting his useless son establish himself in the North.
As long as he didn't die on the way, it would be fine. Dying in the North would be considered a completion of the task—the focus was simply on participation.
No one believed Vaerik could survive in the North, and he didn't have much confidence in himself either.
How could a fresh graduate survive after being thrown into this freezing, perilous place?
Vaerik tugged at his cloak, but still couldn't ward off the bone-chilling cold.
He couldn't help but curse under his breath: "Damn, aren't all transmigrators supposed to get a cheat ability? Why don't I have anything at all!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a mechanical female voice sounded in his mind.
[Daily Intelligence System loading...]
Vaerik froze, and before he could react, information about the intelligence system began pouring into his mind.
Daily Intelligence System.
It would randomly push several pieces of intelligence related to him every day, covering resource locations, people's secrets, and even future events...
This cheat ability was the most ideal tool for a pioneering lord.
The North, as a place full of uncertainties, had various dangers but also many opportunities.
In such an environment, the important intelligence pushed by the daily system would help him avoid dangers and acquire resources.
This undoubtedly paved the way for him to become a powerful lord.
More importantly, even in the worst scenario, with the daily intelligence reminders, he could escape in advance.
After understanding all this, Vaerik could no longer suppress the wild joy in his heart and chuckled.
A ray of light had finally appeared in the dark journey of being a lord!
[Daily Intelligence System loading complete!]
With the prompt, a semi-transparent light screen appeared before Vaerik's eyes, with several lines of text quickly jumping on it.
[Daily Intelligence Update Complete]
[1: The Iron Blood Empire's Third Prince was framed while inspecting the stables at noon today and drowned in a manure pit.]
[2: Duke Tudor's tenth daughter was born, with "Explosive" talent in her bloodline.]
[3: Northern Crystal Cod shoals will appear at dawn in the ice river fissure three kilometers west.]
[4: Knight Roy has mixed frost scorpion poison into your dinner meat soup.]
...
Full of excitement, Vaerik read down the list one by one.
The first two pieces of intelligence weren't much help for his current situation, at most providing some psychological comfort in his predicament.
Like mocking the Third Prince for his misfortune in court struggles.
And marveling again at his father's vigorous energy and amazing fertility.
But when his gaze fell on the third piece of intelligence, his eyes immediately froze.
"Northern Crystal Cod shoals will appear at dawn in the ice river fissure three kilometers west."
Northern Crystal Cod! This was something precious and rare.
Before departing for the North, to avoid waiting passively for death, Vaerik had crammed quite a bit of knowledge about the North, which happened to mention this type of fish.
They lived in extremely cold waters and had delicious meat.
Most importantly, their bones contained a special substance that could purify impurities in knights' bloodlines, enhancing their strength.
This item was extremely hard to come by in the market!
This wasn't just about good food—it was an opportunity to exchange for money, connections, and enhance combat power!
The system came at just the right time. He had been worrying about how to establish himself in the North, and now an opportunity had presented itself.
After calming himself down, Vaerik continued reading, but suddenly his smile froze.
"Knight Roy has mixed frost scorpion poison into your dinner meat soup."
Vaerik's Adam's apple bobbed, and his gaze instinctively swept toward the knights busy not far away.
They were setting up camp around the campfire, some pitching tents, others removing equipment from horses.
Several knights responsible for cooking were processing ingredients, pouring cut meat and wild vegetables into a large pot, with steam slowly rising in the cold night.
A knight with a simple face was half-squatting by the pot, stirring the soup.
It was Roy.
A chill ran down Vaerik's back.
A formal knight sent by his family was secretly trying to kill him?!
He had thought that although these formal knights looked down on him, they would at least follow the orders of their lord, but he never expected someone would directly try to send him to his grave!
Being exiled to such a desolate place was bad enough, but now someone couldn't wait to make a move before they even reached their destination.
Damn, it was really impossible to guard against everything.
Fortunately, he had the Daily Intelligence System, otherwise he might have directly died.
A knight's voice came from outside the carriage, mixed with the howling of the cold wind: "My Lord, dinner is ready."
Vaerik straightened his clothes, then slowly lifted the curtain and stepped down from the carriage.
The firelight illuminated the camp, with hot meat soup bubbling in the iron pot.
The strong aroma mixed with the cold wind entered his nostrils, involuntarily arousing his appetite.
The knights sat around the campfire but hadn't started eating.
According to custom, he, as the lord, had to eat first before others could begin.
Vaerik's gaze swept across the crowd, finally returning to the iron pot, and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.