Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

The night was deep, guests had departed, and most of the lights were extinguished.

The heavy wooden door gently closed after the attendants withdrew, leaving only a soft "click" that sealed off the outside world.

The bedroom was spacious and quiet, with gauze curtains hanging low, and a faint, sweet scent of roses and incense lingering in the air.

Only the two of them remained in the room.

Emily stood in the center of the room, her head bowed, her hands unconsciously clutching the hem of her wedding dress.

It was the wedding gown from today's ceremony, her pride and the object of everyone's admiration.

But at this moment, Emily looked at it with a sense of bewilderment.

Her ears were burning, and her heart pounded as if she had just fought a battle.

She didn't even dare to look at Louis.

"Is this... the so-called wedding night?" she silently asked herself.

Just then, a faint rustle of fabric came from behind her.

Louis had taken off his outer robe and draped it steadily over the back of a nearby chair.

Then he walked towards her, his footsteps so light they were almost inaudible.

Emily felt him standing in front of her.

Then her hand was taken.

His hand was warm, his palm dry and strong, enveloping her cold fingers.

"Are you still nervous?" Louis asked, his voice low with a hint of teasing.

Before she could answer, his expression suddenly turned serious, and he said earnestly, "Should I go call the priest back now? We can have the ceremony again, officially."

"Pfft." Emily finally couldn't help but look up and glare at him, though a smile had already appeared on her lips.

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

"You smiled." Louis also smiled, bending down to lightly kiss the back of her hand. "Then I'm relieved."

Louis didn't rush anything, just quietly looked at her.

"Emily," he whispered, "I won't rush, and I certainly won't make you afraid."

He raised his hand and gently brushed aside a strand of her falling blue hair, then began to unbutton the intricate fastenings of her wedding dress.

His movements were incredibly gentle; with each button he undid, he would whisper in her ear.

Sometimes it was a playful joke: "These buttons are so hard to undo—"

Sometimes it was a tender declaration: "You truly look beautiful today. I've never seen a more radiant bride than you."

Emily's face was already flushed, and with his words, her neck and shoulders felt like they were on fire.

"You—you stop talking." She turned her face away, yet couldn't help but chuckle softly.

Her heart was pounding as if it would burst from her chest, yet in these gentle moments, she slowly felt at ease.

That uncertainty, that self-reminder of "this is a political marriage," seemed to quietly dissolve into some invisible emotion on this night.

Emily gently closed her eyes.

He gently led her to the bed, without hurried movements or agitated emotions.

Step by step, he narrowed the distance between them, not like taking, but more like guiding.

"You don't need to be nervous, I'm here," he whispered, as if comforting and also promising.

Emily bit her lip, her face already buried in the pillow.

Every touch seemed to break down that elusive distance.

Occasionally, he would whisper something in her ear, like a joke or a playful plea: "Will you still regret it? Marrying a 'political tool' like me?"

"Shut up!" She lightly hit him, but didn't dare to look at him, burying her face even deeper.

Then their figures slowly intertwined, the candlelight flickered, and within the curtains, time seemed to stand still.

Until the night grew as deep as ink, the wind stilled, and everything outside had long ceased to concern them.

In this soft glow, they finally truly became husband and wife.

The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains into the room, falling upon the carved wooden bed and the pale gold blanket.

It was warm, yet not dazzling.

Louis woke up very early.

He was always like this; even after last night—an extraordinary night—though his body felt slightly fatigued, his mind was astonishingly clear.

The memories of last night flooded back into his mind.

He instinctively reached out to his side, touching a soft, warm mass.

Emily was curled up in his arms, her breathing steady, her eyelashes peacefully lowered, like a small beast sleeping in the snow.

Perhaps she was too tired, not even stirring in her dreams.

A faint blush still lingered on her face, a trace of the mingled emotions and warmth of the night.

Louis gazed at her contentedly, not moving for a long time.

Her long blue hair spread out like flowing water in the morning light, making her skin appear even whiter.

Her features were still exquisitely captivating: a high nose bridge, pale lips, and those closed ice-blue eyes.

Even unopen, they carried an innate cool elegance.

She truly lived up to the title, "Flower of the Northern Border."

He had heard this praise countless times before, but had never truly paid attention.

But now, he suddenly felt that those words were too superficial.

She was not only beautiful, but her beauty carried significant weight.

It wasn't just her appearance, but a presence that inspired respect and a desire to protect.

Louis gently raised his hand, his fingertip tracing her hair, his movements cautious, as if afraid to wake her.

He remembered her tear-filled eyes and her efforts to suppress her voice when she lay in his arms last night.

He lowered his head and kissed her forehead.

Although last night was indeed wonderful, even worthy of being cherished on a special page of his life.

But he still had to work in the morning. After all, Snowpeak County of the Northern Border Province of the Iron-Blood Empire still rested on his shoulders.

He slightly raised his hand and activated the Daily Intelligence System.

A translucent light screen shimmered into existence before Louis's eyes, and familiar text slowly scrolled.

When Louis's gaze fell upon the Daily Intelligence light screen, he paused slightly.

Daily Intelligence Update Complete

1: Vik led the Northern Border Elite Knights deep into the Dark Snow Forest, tracking the swarm's traces, and discovered a giant Mother Nest deep within the forest. After the unit was exposed, a battle ensued. Vik voluntarily stayed behind to cover their retreat and was confirmed to have died a heroic death.

2: The surviving knight, Karl, escaped alone on horseback and arrived at Red Tide Territory this morning to personally report the details of the incident to Louis and Duke Edmund.

3: The Mother Nest is Despair Witch's Experiment Subject No. 2. Weakness characteristics: highly susceptible to extreme high-temperature explosions; once the Mother Nest's central nucleus is destroyed, it will trigger a structural collapse, paralyzing all swarm entities and causing them to die en masse.

Louis narrowed his eyes, silently watching the intelligence scroll to an end.

Today's update was more important than any other day.

All three pieces of intelligence were about the swarm, and all were extremely shocking.

The discovery of the Mother Nest was, without a doubt, a huge breakthrough.

He had long suspected the existence of a swarm mastermind, but this was the first time it had transformed from a "conjecture" into a "target" with clear coordinates.

But then the second line of text tightened his brow.

Vik was dead.

The Northern Border Transcendent Knight he had only met once—a straightforward, quiet man with incredibly steady eyes—was now a "sacrifice" in the intelligence report.

Louis's emotions didn't fluctuate much, but a faint sense of regret did surface deep within him.

"That's quite a pity," he sighed. "He was a good man."

A person he had only met once, yet he felt a pang of regret, likely because such a high-ranking knight who voluntarily covered a retreat should have lived.

Moreover, the death of a Transcendent-level combatant so easily also indirectly indicated how dangerous that place was.

This was not a nest of small groups of insectoids, but a source that could very likely spiral out of control and even contaminate the entire Snowpeak County and the Northern Border.

And it was so close to his own territory, making his heart pound with unease.

The second piece of intelligence, however, brought a slight sigh of relief.

"At least there's a survivor. The Duke can explain it."

With someone coming to report, Louis was spared a great deal of trouble in how to "reasonably conceal the source of the intelligence."

But what truly made him sit up straight and sharpen his gaze was the third piece of intelligence.

"Despair Witch?"

Louis murmured the unfamiliar title, his voice carrying an undisguised gravity.

He had never heard this name before. No records, no rumors, not even in imperial secret reports had it ever appeared.

The name itself sent a chill down his spine.

"The Mother Nest—is it her experiment?"

This was not ordinary monster reproduction, nor unconscious mutation.

Behind it was will, design, control.

The swarm was no longer wild beasts, but more like a weapon being manipulated.

Expanding with purpose, nesting with logic, with experiments, iterations, and evolution.

"If that's only 'No. 2'—"

What about 'No. 1'? And No. 3, No. 4—where else were they hidden? And what were their intentions?

At this thought, he couldn't help but clench his fists, his palms already slightly damp with sweat.

Louis wasn't afraid of combat, nor was he afraid of enemies.

He was afraid of unseen enemies, the puppet masters who secretly plotted in the dark, toying with human fate.

"The swarm is just the surface. The real threat is the one who created them."

But the intelligence below struck his mind like a bolt of lightning.

"Extreme high-temperature explosion fear. Once the central nucleus is destroyed, the entire Mother Nest is paralyzed."

Louis suddenly froze, then a slow smile spread across his lips. "This really helped me out a lot." He sat up straight, his gaze gradually sharpening, like a wolf detecting the scent of {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} prey in the snow.

Something in his warehouse immediately came to mind.

The Red Platinum Magic Bomb, Silco's proud creation, a single one capable of destroying several meters of thick city wall defenses.

It was originally just for emergency reserves, but now it seemed tailor-made for this moment.

"The Mother Nest fears this? Then I truly placed my bet in advance."

He couldn't help but chuckle, with a sense of exhilaration that "good luck has finally fallen upon me."

This meant they had the possibility to proactively attack and resolve the Mother Nest, instead of passively waiting for the swarm tide to engulf them.

"As long as we can get close—as long as we can blast that core..."

His mind was already simulating assault routes, troop deployments, and detonation conditions. "Good news," he murmured, but the cold outline of a battlefield had already appeared in his eyes.

"Now, all that's left is how to eliminate it." He slowly closed the light screen, his expression solemn, and took a deep breath.

Although the appearance of the Mother Nest brought an unprecedented shadow.

But at least now they finally possessed the key to counterattack.

"As long as I have intelligence—I can win," he whispered.

Louis pulled back the covers, his movements extremely light, afraid of waking Emily.

He reached up and rubbed his brow, then looked out the window. The sky wasn't fully bright yet, only a faint silver-blue hue.

He should have had four more hours for cultivation, but today was different.

This morning, the Duke was to depart for Frost Halberd City.

During dinner last night, his father-in-law had sincerely invited him to breakfast, saying he wanted to "have a good chat."

Between the two of them, there were both family matters and the overall situation of the Northern Border to discuss.

"So, cultivation time can only be compressed."

He sat cross-legged, his gaze focused, and after a moment of hesitation between Battle Aura and magic, he ultimately chose the latter, as his Original Meditation Technique yielded higher returns for magic.

Louis slowly exhaled, his magic power flowing gently along the circuits within him, entering a state of meditation.

Meanwhile, his mind had already begun to devise tactics: how to approach the Mother Nest's core? How to set up the Magic Bombs? Were there any teams capable of undertaking a stealth mission?