Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

On the south slope of Red Tide Territory, the newly built apiary has begun to take shape.

The entire site is located in a wind-sheltered, sun-facing valley, covered by a translucent animal hide dome to protect against the cold.

Red-veined fir beehives are neatly arranged, occasionally spraying a light blue calming mist, emanating the scent of Frostleaf Vine and Night Snow Moss.

Azure Pattern Bee swarms fly quietly in the air, in an orderly fashion.

"The bee colony is in excellent condition," the accompanying beekeeping knight reported to Louis. "The queen bee has adapted to the new hive, and the Aura Honey collection is stable. We expect to expand the population next month."

Louis nodded, his expression satisfied.

Although the Aura Honey produced by this bee colony didn't provide a strong aura boost, it was valued for its stability and longevity.

It perfectly complemented Frost Blood Red Berry, creating a supplement suitable for knights' regular consumption.

He turned and instructed Bradley, the old butler beside him: "This matter falls under your purview. Don't neglect anything from honey collection and storage to subsequent processing. Once the Frost Blood Red Berry bears fruit, coordinate with Silco to combine it with the Frost Blood Red Berry to develop an effective knight's supplement."

Upon hearing this, a rare flicker of excitement appeared in Bradley's eyes.

He naturally understood what this meant; this wasn't just a simple honey resource, but it symbolized the birth of countless knights, the rise of Red Tide Territory's military foundation!

"Understood, my Lord." He took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "I will personally oversee it, ensuring not a single drop of honey is wasted."

Just then, someone rode a horse to the apiary, interrupting their conversation.

"My Lord!" A armored knight dismounted, his face slightly sweaty, and bowed.

He was one of the knights sent by Lambert to search for the Mage battle remnants.

"You're back." Louis stood up, brushing off the grass from his cloak. "How was the investigation?"

"Reporting, Your Excellency, we searched the area around Cold Fir Ridge according to the route." The knight unfolded a parchment map in his hand, tapping the marked points with his knuckle. "There are indeed signs of high-intensity combat, such as scorched forests and fractured ley lines."

"Were there any bodies?" Louis's gaze was calm.

"—None at all." The knight hesitated. "Not even a trace of blood. It's as if—it was deliberately cleaned up."

Louis said nothing, just stared at the map for a few seconds, gesturing for him to continue.

The knight added: "Even—the traces of the fight don't look like they were left by aura combat."

"How so?" Louis didn't look up, his eyes fixed on the unfolded map.

He knew it was a battle between Mages and Corpse Insects, but he still wanted to hear what the scene was like.

"The ground was indeed severely damaged, but not by weapon strikes. It was more like high-temperature erosion," the knight paused.

"There were several places where the ground had collapsed, charred and brittle, as if splashed by some strong corrosive liquid. But the surrounding vegetation was completely unharmed, as if only specific areas were scorched."

Corrosion, yet no spread?

Louis gently tapped a gray shaded area on the map, "Where were those traces concentrated?"

"Near the tent remnants, the campfire site, and the edges of several large boulders. In the most severe spots, not even soil remained."

The knight paused, as if considering his words, "It wasn't fire, it was more like—it was 'corroded' by something and then evaporated."

"Besides that, there's ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) another unusual detail."

"Speak."

"The scene was permeated with a—very difficult to describe smell."

Louis raised an eyebrow slightly, "Was it the smell of blood?"

"No, the smell of blood is stronger and more pungent. It was like—the smell of a corpse decaying for ten days to half a month in hot weather, but mixed with a metallic and rotten egg scent."

The knight shook his head, frowning in recollection, "The smell was particularly sticky, clinging to our nasal passages. Even two hours after we returned, we still felt it lingering on our clothes."

"Was it from a single source, or the entire area?"

"The entire area—when the wind blew, it could spread to the end of the forest." There was a hint of unease in the knight's eyes.

"And those charred places were barren. But the grass further away was unaffected. It looked as if someone had precisely drawn a boundary, burning, corroding, and erasing everything inside, while leaving not a single speck untouched outside."

"Were there no traces of even wild beasts approaching?" Louis asked slowly.

"Absolutely none. We originally thought wolves would approach to scavenge after the battle, but that area was eerily quiet.

Not a single insect was seen."

He paused for a few seconds, carefully adding: "It was like—it was cursed."

Louis looked at the marked woodland area on the map, saying nothing.

The knight waited two seconds, "My report is complete."

"I understand. You may go now, and remember not to speak of this matter."

"Yes." The knight bowed and quickly departed.

By the beehives, bees hummed like a tide, and the afternoon sunlight cast dappled shadows on the wooden hive surfaces.

Louis stood before the fence, his finger gently stroking a slowly crawling worker bee, his gaze far from this place.

When the knight's footsteps faded into the distance.

Louis withdrew his gaze and called out calmly, "Lambert."

Lambert quickly walked from under the shade of the trees, without a trace of a smile on his face. He had heard the general outline from nearby, and his expression had already turned grave.

As one of the few who knew the truth, he understood that the area was not an ordinary battlefield. It was where Leixier and two other Silver Masked Mages were attacked by Corpse Insects.

And according to what the knight said, nothing was left at the scene except for the putrid residual odor.

"You heard the situation." Louis looked at him. "Not a single body was left. Even the bloodstains seemed to have been—completely wiped clean."

"And that putrid smell." He paused, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes. "It's not the smell of an ordinary corpse."

Lambert nodded silently, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

According to the knight's description, it was the scent of something gnawed by some "non-human entity," as if death had been fermented and then vomited back into the world, so potent that it made battlefield knights nauseous.

"I don't think it was natural cleanup." Louis's gaze was lowered. "Nor should it be animals feeding. It's more like they themselves were 'covering their tracks'."

Lambert's expression was very solemn.

If even Corpse Insects understood how to clean up a scene, it meant that they had organization, intelligence, or were being controlled by someone.

"We must act." Louis turned and instructed, "Immediately send more knights to expand the search radius, a carpet search within a five-mile range."

"Understood."

"Station five to six knights for regular patrols in that area. Three shifts daily, no slacking off even at night."

"Yes."

"And..." Louis's voice suddenly lowered, "Tell them to be careful. Extremely careful. If they see any strange corpses, putrid smells, or even moving 'shadows'—they are not to approach under any circumstances. They must immediately retreat and report."

Lambert pressed his lips together, lowering his head in acknowledgment.

If what the searching knights and Leixier said was true, then these orders were by no means exaggerated.

Louis stood before the beehives, watching Lambert's hurried departure, his heart heavy, thinking of other countermeasures. Relying solely on himself was not enough; he had to inform Duke Edmund about this matter.

He had more resources, stronger combat power, and also possessed the true defense intelligence of the Northern Territory.

If these "Worm-Eaten Household" were indeed released by some enemy, this Lord of the Northern Territory would probably know what they were, and it was highly likely he had encountered similar cases before.

This was not an ordinary skirmish, nor was it just a matter of two Mages losing contact.

"He must be made to take this seriously."

Of course, the matter of the Mages could be spoken of, but not entirely.

Even Duke Edmund shouldn't know the true identity of the Silver Masked Mages or how he met him.

Louis prepared to make his report vague:

Patrol knights of Red Tide Territory discovered an unusual battle remnant, with scorched ground and a strong putrid smell lingering in the air, suspected to be an encounter with some unknown demonic creature or magical technique.

A severely wounded survivor, whose identity was unknown, was found nearby. He happened to pass by and took him in for treatment.

Concise enough, yet subtly hinting at danger.

And this "unknown danger" was precisely what would most easily make the Duke take notice.

"Let him prepare early," Louis murmured, as if to himself.

Only the buzzing of bees echoed in the apiary for a while.

The sunlight slanted down, falling warmly on the wooden lids of the beehives.

But a heavy stone always weighed on Louis's heart, unable to be lifted.

He sighed and looked up at the sky.

Great Daily Intelligence System, please give me some intelligence about insects.

The weather was clear, and the sun felt warm on his body.

Leixier sat quietly in his wheelchair, allowing the nurse behind him to slowly push him through the streets of Red Tide Territory.

The sunlight wasn't harsh, and the breeze carried the tempting scent of smoked fish.

He wore a woolen cloak. Although his face was still pale, there was a hint of spirit in his eyes.

This chair that could glide on the ground was reportedly invented by Lord Louis.

The wheels and armrests were specially designed so that even one person could easily operate it.

The people of Red Tide Territory called it a "wheelchair," and it seemed quite popular, especially when used by the elderly and injured, it was as convenient as some kind of magic.

"To have even thought of such a detail... Red Tide Lord is indeed no ordinary person," Leixier murmured softly.

Leixier moved his fingers slightly, attempting to stir his magic, but his body remained empty.

That familiar flow of magic seemed to have vanished, leaving only a dry shell.

He lowered his head, his fingertips trembling slightly, and a hint of gloom couldn't help but rise in his heart. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Although he had been awake for many days, the aftermath of that excessive consumption, which nearly burned his soul, was far from over.

He still couldn't cast magic; even the most basic summoning spells no longer responded.

That connection he once had with the world now felt like a broken string, with no response from companions and no psychic echo.

Leixier couldn't even cast a simple Fireball now.

What's worse, this emptiness wasn't temporary; it might—

—forever change his path of magic cultivation.

Even if his magic gradually recovered in the future, he might not return to his peak state.

This was not ordinary fatigue, but a sign of damage to his foundation.

Anxiety, regret, and even a hint of fear churned within him.

More importantly, he had countless times wanted to immediately report this crisis and encounter to the Supreme Mage. However, without magic, he couldn't even send a message.

So he could only be forced to stay here, quietly waiting to recover, or waiting for his companions to find him.

To clear his mind, this was his third outing for a stroll in Red Tide Territory.

He had expected a long and boring wait, but this territory, unexpectedly, caught his attention.

The streets, though simple, were clean and orderly. The businesses, though few, were very lively.

What surprised him most was that the people here actually had smiles on their faces.

In a place like the Northern Territory, such smiles were quite rare.

Children chased and played by the roadside, women returned from the market carrying fish baskets, and men sat on drying platforms mending tools and drinking hot soup.

"Truly a rare sight..." Leixier watched a pair of children run past his wheelchair.

When he heard them laughing and shouting something like, "Do you believe in light?" his lips couldn't help but curve into a slight smile.

This territory was quite different from other places in the Northern Territory.

The wheelchair slowly moved along the street, Leixier sat on it, wearing a light gray long cloak, watching the children chase and play in the distance.

His lips moved, and just as a faint smile appeared, a cheerful greeting came from beside him.

"Yo, Leixier, you look well today."

His savior, Louis, seemed to have casually strolled over, standing beside him with a relaxed expression.

Leixier looked up, and seeing the familiar face, he quickly nodded in greeting.

"Thanks to you, I can already walk a bit on my own—it's just," he lowered his head, his tone pausing slightly, "I still can't use magic for now, and summoning spells have lost their response. I'm afraid I'll have to stay here for a while longer, troubling you."

"It's no trouble here," Louis chuckled softly, his gaze sweeping into the distance with the wind. "You can stay as long as you like, no one will rush you."

Leixier paused for a moment, then lowered his head and said softly, "...Thank you."

He was very touched, believing Louis was truly a good person.

Louis slowly squatted beside the wheelchair, his fingers casually plucking a blade of grass by the roadside: "I sent people to investigate the place where your incident occurred."

Leixier trembled slightly, his eyelashes fluttering.

"There was indeed intense combat in that area." Louis looked at him, his eyes holding a hint of apology, "Unfortunately—we didn't find the bodies of your two companions. Nor were there any Corpse Insects, not a single trace of blood was left."

Leixier was silent for a few seconds, a dark shade crossing his eyes.

He slowly gripped the armrest, and whispered, "That means—they weren't eliminated at all."

The wind blew across his pale cheek. That pride that once belonged to a Silver Masked Mage now transformed into an unconcealable worry and anxiety.

And just as he lowered his head slightly, falling into brief contemplation.

Louis suddenly spoke, his tone seemingly casual, yet with a hint of seriousness: "Oh, by the way, once you're feeling better, could I ask you to teach me some things about magic?"

Leixier was slightly startled, and looked up: "Ah? You mean, you want to learn magic?"