Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

In the very next second, several crows flew past the branches, and as they startled, a sharp sound tore through the air.

The neck of the leading warhorse in front exploded, blood gushed out like a spring, and it crashed to the ground with a whinny.

"It's an ambush!"

"Get your weapons!"

But they had only halfway drawn their short swords when the attack from the forest swept over them like an ice storm.

Several figures burst out of the grass like arrows, their blades flashing repeatedly.

Some people were pierced from behind by long spears before they could even react, falling into the dead leaves and still twitching.

One of them tried to jump off his horse and escape, but his ankle was entangled by a flying lasso, and he was instantly dragged into the bushes, leaving only a pool of blood in a blink of an eye.

"Ahhh!"

"Don't kill me!"

The screams of horses and humans mingled in chaos.

Just two minutes later.

Baron Vera's "brothers" lay sprawled on the ground, some dead, some unconscious.

Baron Vera hid behind a pile of saddles, trembling and muttering to himself, "Noble—I am a noble—you can't kill a noble—."

A Snowsworn with a scarred face walked over, dragging a large saber, and sneered, "Hehehe! Nobles are exactly who we kill!"

Another Snowsworn chimed in, "This dog... Let's just slaughter him to avenge Barnes's departed soul!"

"Wait."

A woman's voice, as clear and cold as snow, spoke.

She was the leader of the Snowsworn, dressed in a black cloak, her bow still unstrung, but her eyes were sharper than any blade.

Her appearance was exquisitely beautiful, yet devoid of any warmth, like a meticulously carved snow sculpture: "We are not here to vent our anger; we are here to find sacrifices."

"Isn't it enough to just capture a few commoners? Why go to such lengths?" someone retorted.

"You don't understand." The leading woman's gaze swept over everyone. "Only sinful blood can awaken the Ancient God."

She walked up to Baron Vera.

He had already wet himself from fear, a puddle of yellow liquid between his legs, his mouth trembling, "Don't kill me—I have money—I have land—I can..."

"Let's make a deal." The woman's voice suddenly softened a few degrees, yet it made one's hair stand on end even more.

"Help us find five Iron-blooded Nobles, and once you find them, I will let you go."

Baron Vera felt as if he had been granted a great pardon, kowtowing frantically, "That's easy! I know! I know where there are many Nobles! I'll take you there!"

His face was full of flattery and the greed to survive, like a dog seeing a bone.

The Snowsworn laughed again.

Only this time, they looked more like they were watching a pig waiting to be slaughtered.

The battle of Snow Eagle City seemed to sweep through the entire upper echelon of Snowpeak County.

The old Nobles of Snowpeak County were almost completely wiped out.

And the few who were lucky enough to survive were mostly executed by order of Duke Edmund, with their entire families liquidated along with them.

What remained were only scraps.

Collateral relatives, married-out daughters, and a few heirs who hadn't even fully grown their teeth were hastily pushed into the position of family head.

They inherited the territories, but most had no real power.

But soldiers? Gone.

Food? Almost cut off.

Power? Heh, a joke.

Some fiefdoms were experiencing famine, with the common people so hungry they were eating iron pots, while others were occupied by refugees, and the city gates were even guarded by refugees.

It was even rumored that some had secretly pledged allegiance to the Snowsworn.

Strangely, these new Nobles were not particularly panicked.

Instead, they were even a little excited.

They were not from the main lineage to begin with, and now they could even become a Baron; it was not a loss.

As long as they still held a title in the North, there was a chance to rise again.

With just one war to turn the tide, a dog could become a wolf.

But there was one thing they truly couldn't swallow.

The order for the Governor of Snowpeak County had come down.

The new Governor was named Louis Calvin.

He certainly had merit; everyone acknowledged that.

But Governor? A young Baron from the South? To govern the entire Snowpeak County?

This meant that all these newly appointed family heads would have to be subject to this Southerner.

And become his vassals?

What a joke; they had been taught since childhood that these Southerners were all insidious and cunning cowards.

But no one dared to speak their true thoughts.

Because at the bottom of the appointment letter, there was a heavy wax seal.

That was Duke Edmund's seal of authority.

Everyone understood what this meant: even if you disagreed in your heart, you had to smile on the surface as if you were congratulating your own father on becoming Governor.

So, before officially visiting the "new Governor," the new Nobles of the North quietly gathered to # Nоvеlight # discuss what attitude they should adopt when facing this new Governor.

The person who convened this secret meeting was Viscount Firth.

He was the nephew of the late Earl Firth; although the Earl's title had been stripped by the Governor, the remaining Viscount title naturally fell to him.

And from bloodline to seniority, and even past prestige, he was still the most influential among this group of "new Nobles."

Even though the Fors Family had been severely weakened, other Nobles still held him in some respect and some fear.

After all, many of them had received favors from the Fors Family, and some were even vassals of the Fors Family. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Viscount Firth, draped in a dark grey cloak, sat at the head of the table, his expression serious.

"The number of people is about right." He scanned the room, his voice low. "Besides Baron Vera, is anyone else not here?"

"He said he'd come with us before we set off, but then he disappeared; he's probably delayed on the way."

"Ha, maybe he went off to seek pleasure somewhere else again." Someone sneered, his tone filled with disdain.

"He's truly lucky," another young Noble narrowed his eyes. "He wasn't even eligible for the family tree originally, and now he's a legitimate Baron—luck, sometimes it really makes people envious."

Everyone chuckled, but the laughter quickly died down.

No one spoke further.

The atmosphere of this small gathering was a bit awkward and somewhat oppressive.

They all knew the true purpose of this meeting.

Before officially visiting the new Governor, Louis Calvin, they needed to unify their stance and band together for warmth.

"Let's all say something." Viscount Firth finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "Everyone can clearly see the current situation."

He looked at everyone, his eyes cold. "If we don't unite, we will only be picked off one by one by the Southerners."

After a moment of silence, the first to speak was a sallow-faced, gaunt Baron.

"First, how exactly should we deal with that 'Southern Governor'? Should we show deference? Or maintain our stance?"

As he spoke, his knuckles occasionally tapped the table, a hint of probing in the corner of his eye: "We are the masters of Snowpeak County; our ancestors have been for generations."

Another newly appointed Viscount grunted, "But the appointment letter states that he is the Governor of our entire Snowpeak County; in other words, theoretically, we are all under his jurisdiction."

As soon as this was said, the room fell into an awkward silence again.

No one wanted to admit this reality, but the document bearing Duke Edmund's seal was like a thorn, pricking at everyone's hearts.

At this moment, Viscount Firth slowly rose, sweeping his gaze around: "Precisely because of this, we must unify our position."