Chapter 93: Chapter 93: Red Rock Warehouse

The midday sun slanted down, and a gentle breeze carried a hint of chill.

Louis draped a dark grey wolfskin cape over his shoulders, a sword at his waist, riding along the dirt path.

Behind him followed several guards, all armed and armored, silent without a word.

In the ranks of the guard knights, the most eye-catching was not the few burly Elite Knights but rather a slightly immature figure.

That was Weir, clad in a not-so-fitting knight’s light armor, with a shorter Knight’s Sword at his waist.

Despite his body not being fully grown, riding on that sturdy horse gave the impression of “a child riding a big horse.”

Yet, he sat steadily, without a hint of wobbling, indicating he had put in considerable effort into his horsemanship.

The only jarring thing was probably his face, trying hard to maintain a stern, yet still somewhat childish expression.

He was trying hard to put on a face that said, “I’m already a protector of the great Lord.”

Yes, clearly posing for coolness.

Louis passed by him, glancing sideways, almost unable to hold back a laugh.

Just then, a strong smell of smoked fish hit them; they were passing by a smoked fish workshop.

Within the half-open wooden shed, cooking smoke swirled, and the fish hung on iron hooks slowly changed color; the aroma wafted through the air.

A woman in a coarse apron came out of the shed and happened to see Weir riding by.

That was Weir’s mother; her face was still damp with sweat, but her eyes were filled with joy upon seeing Weir.

“Oh, it’s Weir!” She waved her hand, her eyes turned into crescent moons, “The Lord is here too!”

Louis nodded gently in acknowledgment.

And Weir? Pretending not to hear, he sat up straighter, staring stiffly ahead, as if saying, “I’m currently the Lord’s protector, on duty, can’t get distracted.”

The next second, “smack.”

Louis raised a hand, lightly swatting Weir on the back of the head, “You little rascal, greet your mother.”

“I, I…” Weir stood there stunned, his face instantly flushed red.

“Quickly.” Louis urged.

“Yes!” Weir hurriedly turned his head, speaking a bit loudly, “Mom! I’m with the Lord, protecting him!”

He waved to his mother, not daring to lift his eyes.

The woman in the workshop beamed with a smile, “Yes, yes, protect the Lord well, and I’ll make you some fish soup tonight!”

“Mom! …Stop it…”

“Hahaha.”

A few guards couldn’t hold it any longer and burst into laughter.

Weir completely lost his composure, his entire face turning red to the roots of his ears, his neck almost changing color too.

He lowered his head, muttering something softly, like a little fox with bristling fur.

Louis also stifled a laugh, shaking his head as he turned his horse to continue forward.

The purpose of this trip was to inspect the main grain storage of Red Tide Territory, the Red Rock Warehouse.

It was a natural cave converted into an underground granary, close to a mountain stream, its location hidden, maintaining stable low temperatures and humidity year-round, practically a natural cold storage.

The geographical location was personally chosen by Louis.

The design draft was roughly sketched by him, listing a bunch of requirements like “must be low temperature,” “rodent-proof,” “pay attention to ventilation.”

Then, he confidently handed over the daunting task to Bradley.

A typical pass-the-buck type of leadership.

But Bradley was the kind of person who, when given a piece of land, could build a granary and two underground rooms with ease.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have reached such a high position in the Calvin Clan.

This task was more than manageable for him.

Of course, Louis made a point to visit the site once before heading out for battle, casually strolling around.

He offered quite a few suggestions, such as “removable wooden racks inside the granary,” “keep dry and wet areas separate,” and so on.

Then Louis patted his backside and went off to the battlefield.

Now that he’s back, it’s time to see the quality of this “entrusted to Bradley under my guidance” underground granary.

“Ahead is the Red Rock Warehouse.” One of the knights rode forward, pointing to the end of the cliff.

Following that direction, a natural rock face had been finely polished, still retaining its original ruggedness, yet a deeper structure could be seen hidden behind.

The overall environment was quiet, with moderate humidity, and exceptionally hidden, making finding it a tough task unless the location was known in advance.

This rock cave at the mountain’s base was indeed like the Daily Intelligence System suggested, a natural constant temperature storage place.

At the entrance stood five or six Red Tide Knights and a dozen soldiers, ensuring absolute security here.

Upon seeing Louis and the others, the guards straightened up, saluting solemnly, “Lord!”

“Thank you for your hard work.” Louis replied briefly, dismounting, and headed towards the entrance of the warehouse.

In front of the entrance, a person stood respectfully, awaiting Louis’s arrival.

A black cloak lined with dark green, slightly curly silver hair, leaning on an ebony cane.

He was Bradley, now the most trusted elder in Red Tide Territory by Louis and the person in charge of internal affairs there.

“Your Excellency.” The old man slightly bowed, his tone respectful, “The Red Rock Warehouse is ready, please follow me.”

Louis nodded and followed Bradley into the granary.

Entering inside, they were greeted by cool and dry air.

The floor was laid with moisture-proof stone bricks, the sections were clearly divided, and everything was neatly arranged.

Bradley led the way while introducing: “The main warehouse is divided into three chambers: the grain storage, smoked fish storage, meat cold room, and dry goods herb storage.”

He lightly pointed at the roof’s ventilation hole position: “According to your suggestion, each storage is equipped with ventilation shafts and rodent-proof boards, while the smoke chamber has a simple diversion system installed to disperse smoke and moisture.”

“The grains, fish, and meats are stacked on categorized racks. We designed detachable wooden racks to save space as you suggested, and a double-door buffer design to prevent sudden temperature changes…”

Louis surveyed the surroundings, noticing the warehouse was clean and tidy, with a reasonable structure, not a trace of mildew or dust even in the corners.

Several design details, like the small wheel rails for easy transport, were ideas he had casually mentioned before.

Now all were implemented precisely

“Very well done.” Louis softly praised, conveying genuine approval.

Bradley gave a slight bow, neither arrogant nor humble, as if this result was only to be expected: “Thank you for your praise, my Lord; it’s my duty.”

As they spoke, Bradley pushed open a warehouse door, inviting everyone inside.

Cool and dry air rushed over them, the floor laid with moisture-proof stone bricks, everything neat and orderly.

Guardians lit petroleum lamps, illuminating the warehouse clearly.

Seeing everything in the warehouse, Weir’s eyes brightened, unable to hold back an exclamation, “So…so much grain?”

He remembered how his mother was worried if the Lord had prepared enough, worried whether they would have enough to eat in winter, and had secretly said to eat less to lighten the Lord’s burden.

It seems now she shouldn’t need to worry anymore.

Indeed, the Lord remains so reliable.

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