Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

As Lord Louis and Mac were discussing the mass production armor plan, a rush of hurried footsteps broke the fervent atmosphere.

“My Lord!” A young knight, drenched in sweat, quickly rushed into the main hall, paused to catch his breath, and then saluted.

“Silco asked me to inform you that all the Magic Bombs you ordered for trial production are ready! They are currently waiting for your inspection and testing at the alchemy workshop!”

Lord Louis’s lips curled into a slight smile upon hearing this, clearly in an excellent mood: “Heh—it seems today truly is a good day.”

He turned to Mac, his tone filled with interest: “Bring a few core craftsmen with you to see it. I happen to have something else that requires craftsmen’s expertise.”

Mac was startled: “Alchemy workshop matters—can I also get involved?”

Despite his confusion, he readily nodded. After all, he never refused Lord Louis’s commands.

Thus, surrounded by a crowd of craftsmen and knights, Lord Louis rode his horse to the alchemy workshop outside Red Tide City.

Outside the alchemy workshop, the air still lingered with a strong scent of magic potions.

The first thing that caught the eye was Silco’s face, almost splitting into a wide grin.

He personally waited at the entrance, barely suppressing his excitement as he stepped forward to greet Lord Louis.

“Lord Louis, you’ve arrived just in time!” His eyebrows nearly reached his forehead, “This time, you must see with your own eyes; this is absolutely the pinnacle of my alchemy career!”

Before Lord Louis could respond, he impatiently turned and walked towards a table in the corner of the inner room.

The table was covered with thick, multi-layered fireproof cloth, with an irregular bulge in the center.

“Ta-da!”

He ripped off the cloth with both hands, revealing the object underneath as if presenting a treasure.

A red, egg-shaped object lay quietly on the platform, half an arm’s length, its shell gleaming with a metallic cold light, and covered with a layer of dark, semi-transparent, strange coating that faintly glowed, as if quietly breathing in the magma essence from the air.

“The outer shell is made of cold iron; I’ve lightened it without reducing its strength,” Silco spoke rapidly, like a child eager to show off. “As for the core, it’s purified magma essence, red platinum crystals, and Fire Scale paste. You know, when Fire Scale paste and red platinum magic crystals meet, whoever stands in their way dies!”

Mac, standing by, gasped, looking at the alchemical egg with complex emotions.

He vaguely wondered if this thing exploding in the city would send the alchemy workshop flying into the sky along with it.

Lord Louis, however, merely nodded, unperturbed by the flashy terminology and exaggerated explanations.

“More talk is useless,” he said calmly, his gaze fixed on the Magic Bomb, as if looking at a craft awaiting verification, “Let’s test it directly.”

The testing ground was set up on an open wilderness outside Red Tide City.

The cold wind howled, yet the vast expanse was eerily quiet, almost oppressively so, as if anticipating the impending explosion.

The test subjects were already in place.

They were three adult Ice Wilderness Boars, their bodies covered in thick ice shells and grayish-blue cold fur.

They were nearly two meters long, with muscles bulging like rocks, and their blood-red beast eyes stared fixedly at the crowd, snorting hot air from their nostrils.

These boars were a cold-region variant of the wasteland boar, fierce and untameable, with tough hides and extremely high fire resistance.

Even a Formal Knight with a sharp sword would find it difficult to pierce their skin.

Because of this, they were chosen as sacrifices for this experiment, tied at 10, 20, and 30 meters from the Magic Bomb, respectively.

They were firmly secured to giant iron stakes with thick black iron chains, one loop around each limb, tightly gripping the ground.

Their heads were even fitted with metal iron ring muzzles to prevent them from biting and breaking free.

Even under restraint, these dangerous magical beasts occasionally struggled, roaring in fury, causing the iron chains to clank loudly.

From a distant rock platform, Lord Louis, Mac, and Silco stood side by side, with a group of knights and craftsmen behind them.

Everyone was on high alert, the atmosphere tense yet expectant.

Silco, in particular, had an uncontrollable excitement on his face, muttering, “Come on, come on, come on—”

Lord Louis’s gaze was calm, his voice low and clear: “Begin.”

The flag bearer, upon receiving the command, swung his arm, and the vermilion flag unfurled with a whoosh!

A knight in the distance quickly lit the fuse embedded in the Magic Bomb; the bomb activated instantly, flashing a barely perceptible purplish-red light.

“Hup!” The knight immediately reined his horse sharply, galloping away from the explosion zone.

And that silent Magic Bomb, as if it were just a quiet stone, lay still in the center of the chains. However, the moment it was lit, all sound seemed to freeze in the air.

The deep red casing of the Magic Bomb trembled slightly, and the next instant—!

Boom!!!

In the first second, the moment the magma essence crystal core contacted the red platinum magic crystal, it was as if a small sun ignited.

A blinding red light suddenly converged at the epicenter, like the opening of a fiery pupil that devoured everything.

The ground began to crack rapidly under the intense heat and pressure; a heatwave surged out like a violent air hammer, and the surrounding loose earth and weeds were swept up, burned, and turned into smoke and dust by the hot wind.

In the second second, the core molten layer of the Fire Scale paste ignited.

Scarlet liquid flames erupted violently, like an enraged serpent roaring from the ground, raising a three-meter-high pillar of fire.

Scorching flames spewed in all directions, tracing bizarre and elegant arcs of fire, tumbling in the air, like blooming flowers of hell.

The temperature in the blast zone instantly exceeded fifteen hundred degrees. Twisted heatwaves continuously compressed the air, and charred dust and smoke rose, obscuring half the sky.

Boom!!!

A thunderous roar of a colossal explosion tore through the heavens and earth, and a fierce blast surged forth.

Debris and soil flew like a torrential rain, even the stone wall behind the observation platform gently trembled.

Crimson flames rapidly spread along the air currents. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

The shockwave carved flattened, oval-shaped “fire wave arcs” on the ground, unleashing indiscriminate destruction in all directions.

The iron chains wailed as if in pain, rapidly deforming and turning red hot in the extreme heat, finally snapping with a “clang” and falling to the ground.

The chains broke, but the three Ice Wilderness Boars tied to them did not escape; instead, they struggled and roared amidst the flames.

Their cold fur, boasted as “flame immune,” quickly began to curl and turn to ash, and their ice armor burst and crumbled.

The exposed flesh also rapidly curled up and carbonized.

In just two short seconds, the boars’ roars were mercilessly swallowed by the flames.

Only charred remains lay flattened on the scorching ground, like melted statues.

Lord Louis, observing from a distance, estimated the lethal radius to be about ten meters, providing precise and effective coverage.

After the fire wave passed, a large area of charred ground remained, barren of any vegetation, with embers still burning, and the lingering flames of the Fire Scale paste licked everything like tiny tongues.

Even objects not directly hit, if they came into contact with these scorching flames, would be baked, cracked, and carbonized within ten seconds, with no chance of survival.

After a few seconds, the pillar of fire gradually subsided, but residual flames still flickered in the scorching air, like victorious embers after everything had been consumed.

After the explosion, only the ringing aftershock remained in the eardrums.

After the initial roar, the world seemed to fall into a brief deafness, with only the “whoosh” of residual fire burning in the wind and the echoing sound of stones hitting the ground.

The air was filled with a complex scent of blood and char, mixed with ash, floating in the firelight.

As the flames faded and the smoke had not yet dispersed, the people on the high platform remained silent for a long time.

Mac was the first to break the silence, but not by speaking; instead, he sharply inhaled a cold breath.

His eyes widened, staring intently at the charred ruins, his lips even trembling slightly.

“Can—can this damn thing really be used on humans?” His voice was hoarse, filled with disbelief. “Not even the magic beasts had bones left.”

Even as a tough man who had spent ten years on the battlefield, his back was now drenched in sweat, and his throat felt as if it had been scraped by burnt sand.

Not to mention the craftsmen responsible for monitoring and recording, each of them pale-faced, as if they had just peeked back from the edge of hell.

Although no one was truly scared to the point of wetting their pants, cold sweat beaded on their foreheads, their eyes darted around, and they could barely stand steady. “This is my creation.”

Silco, on the other hand, was a different sight. With his arms crossed, his face wore an almost morbidly delighted smile:

“Did you see the moment that fire wave unfolded?! It was truly intoxicating! Ah, I can’t help but want to try another one!”

Lord Louis turned his head to glance at him, somewhat speechless at his excited demeanor, but a rare hint of shock also appeared on his face.

He had seen things with astonishing power before, but this truly exceeded his expectations.

“It’s a bit too powerful,” he murmured.

But observing from afar was not enough.

So, after confirming that the temperature in the blast zone had slightly dropped, Lord Louis, accompanied by Mac, Silco, and several well-protected knights and record-keepers, cautiously stepped into the center of the explosion.

Underfoot was a large area of charred earth, the soil completely carbonized, emitting a crisp cracking sound when stepped upon.

Not even the shadows of plant roots remained, and the air still carried the scent of burning flesh and bones.

The Ice Wilderness Boars, once hailed as “Wasteland Tanks” and highly fire-resistant magic beasts, now had no recognizable intact bodies.

The one closest to the epicenter was reduced to only half a collapsed skeleton; the rest of its body had completely melted and carbonized, its ashes scattering with the wind, and even the iron chains were just a charred red segment.

The second one barely retained a charred torso, but all its fur and skin had vanished, leaving only burnt, cracked bones embedded with scorch marks. The Fire Scale paste continued to burn on the remaining bones, its fire a dark red, eerily strange.

The third one, at the edge, had its torso partially preserved, but its entire back was charred and split open, like torn flesh ripped apart by the hand of hell, utterly lifeless.

Within an eight-meter radius of the surrounding ground, everything was completely cleared, barren of any vegetation, and even the surface of rocks showed signs of carbonization and spalling. Based on the gruesome state of these three Ice Wilderness Boars, the power of this Magic Bomb could be inferred.

Within ten meters, direct incineration, complete carbonization.

Within twenty meters, high-temperature scorching, certain death for living beings.

Within thirty meters, blast impact and shock, with destructive and armor-piercing capabilities.

“It’s not just firepower,” Lord Louis crouched down, slowly observing the remains. “The Fire Scale paste adheres when it burns. Even if the target’s surface is burned away, it continues to burn on the bones.”

He poked a piece of shattered bone, and sparks instantly shot out, nearly burning his gauntlet.

“And the penetrating power of the blast,” he said, looking at the farthest Ice Wilderness Boar, which lay dead at the edge of the scorched earth, a hint of solemnity in his eyes.

“Even though it was twenty meters from the epicenter, and the fire didn’t reach it, look, its skeleton was shattered by the shock, its internal organs ruptured instantly, and it bled from all seven orifices.”

Mac swallowed: “Good heavens, even these thick-skinned Ice Wilderness Boars with fire resistance are reduced to this state. If those heat-fearing Worm-Eaten Households were targeted, they’d probably just ascend to heaven.”

Lord Louis pondered for a moment, then looked towards the end of the barren land in the distance.

“Compared to the previous ‘Ice and Fire Double Heaven’ Magic Bomb, although it lacks the ice mist and toxic gas components, this ‘High-Purity Magic Bomb’ has at least three to five times the pure firepower.”

He narrowed his eyes, as if he could already see the Mother Nest wailing in the flames.

“There are still drawbacks,” Lord Louis stood up and brushed off the ashes from his gloves, “The main one is that the cost is too high.”

As he spoke, he held up three fingers: “magma essence, Red Platinum Magic Crystals, and Fire Scale Paste.”

“The first two are fine; we’ve stockpiled quite a bit before—especially magma essence; the mine is stable, so we have enough supply.”

“But Fire Scale Paste—” He sighed, “The Fire Scale have only just been captured, and the meager amount we can refine is only enough for small-scale bombs.”

Silco snorted at the words, but he also understood the practical limitations.

“That’s what you call a work of art. Anything that can be mass-produced is destined to be soulless.” He shrugged, “But, what do you intend to do?”

Lord Louis glanced at him: “For the high-power version, we can make ten, specifically for core targets.

The rest will be medium-power, low-spec versions, with a reduced Fire Scale Paste ratio, weakened temperature and blast radius, prioritizing quantity.

For example, the radius could be shrunk to within five meters, the fire wave a bit lower, but the shockwave would still be retained.”

What Lord Louis had in mind was that the powerful ones could be used to destroy the Mother Nest, while the less powerful ones could be thrown in large quantities, enough for clearing nests and repelling insects.

After listening, Silco nodded: “Alright, I’ll go back and adjust the ratios, making the formula into three different tiers.

However, if Fire Scale farming ever takes off, I’d still like to make an un-weakened ultimate version. I could even make it bloom into a fiery lotus, burning a huge crater into an entire mountain.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice carried a nearly fanatical intoxication, as if he could already see the flames devouring the world.

Lord Louis, on the other hand, smiled helplessly, long accustomed to this madman’s sudden “artistic frenzy.”

After all, he was also a bomb fanatic and could understand the feeling of creating a bomb of this caliber.

Then Lord Louis turned and smiled at Mac: “Old Mac, you weren’t scared, were you?”

“Oh, this thing—its power is quite frightening. But, you know, it’s just that.”

Mac smacked his lips, a forced smile on his face, but his eyes couldn’t help but glance at the scorched and overturned earth mound where the Magic Bomb had just exploded.

He had just been shaken so hard he almost fell off the stone, but now he stubbornly straightened his back.

“Just that?” Lord Louis raised an eyebrow at him, a smile playing on his lips.

Mac stroked his mustache, which had been singed by sparks, and cleared his throat, “Ahem, well, it’s certainly powerful. But as for whether I’ve seen an explosion like this—when I was young, in the barracks, repairing oil tanks—”

“Mac.” Lord Louis interrupted him, getting straight to the point, “I need you to build a launcher. One that goes farther, is more accurate, and more stable than those short cannons you’ve made before.”

He casually unfolded a neatly folded blueprint, a rough sketch he had drawn earlier:

A short, thick metal launch tube, with a tail structure for ignition and launch;

Equipped with an adjustable elevation device for throwing at different distances;

Below it was a foldable tripod, for adapting to terrain and stable firing.

The corners of the blueprint also had a few lines hastily written: “Modular design,” “All-weather use,” “Quick disassembly and portability.”

“Not one of these conditions can be omitted.” Lord Louis looked at Mac, “You have so many talented people under you now, don’t tell me it can’t be done.”

Mac’s eyes lit up as he looked at the blueprint: “This idea—you really dare to think big.”

He straightened up, rubbing his chin, the astonishment in his eyes turning into excitement, “If it can truly be built,

this thing can cross mountains and break formations. Forget the Snowsworn, it could even blow the Frost Giants’ brains out! But seriously, if anyone else said something like this, I’d laugh it off, but I believe you.”

At this point, his tone suddenly carried a hint of imperceptible emotion: “My Lord, you are the most capable lord I’ve seen in years, one who truly combines intellect and courage.

You’re not a lord who just dreams, nor one who only fights desperately. If you had appeared in the Northern Territory ten years earlier, perhaps this land wouldn’t have so many abominations [N O V E L I G H T] now.”

Lord Louis said softly: “You exaggerate.”

Mac seemed to realize he had said too much and cleared his throat to change the subject: “Hey, I’ll take this job.

I’ll need to pick a few capable, steady-handed, and quick-witted craftsmen to do it—I’ll list the materials, and then I’ll have to trouble you to allocate them.”

“Good.” Lord Louis nodded, his gaze sweeping lightly over the several craftsmen present, “You’re responsible for the main design and manufacturing; I’ll figure out how to allocate the materials.”

“Leave it to me.” Mac grinned.

Just as Mac and Lord Louis were discussing the structural details of the launcher with great enthusiasm, the area was cleared.

Silco made a grand re-entry, his expression as confident as ever, even tinged with pride.

“My Lord, since the Magic Bomb satisfies you, then allow me to continue demonstrating the true charm of Fire Scale Paste.” Silco said, waving his hand for his assistants to set up a cold iron barrel.

The assistants moved swiftly, placing the barrel steadily, then immediately lifting the lid. Inside, a black and red liquid flowed, slowly bubbling like magma.

“This is no ordinary lamp oil.” Silco exaggeratedly raised his eyebrows, “Catalyzed by Fire Scale Paste, with a tiny amount of refined magma essence added, once ignited—”

He snapped his fingers, and an assistant immediately ignited a sample in the distance.

Boom!

A tongue of fire seemed to erupt from the ground, a three-meter-high wave of fire shooting into the air.

The heat was oppressive, and the air was filled with the scorching, sulfurous scent of burning.

Mac smacked his lips, muttering softly: “Wow, if you doused someone with a barrel of this, there wouldn’t even be bones left—”

But Silco wasn’t finished: “And it won’t extinguish in rain, snow, or dampness; even in mud or puddles, it can burn stably for several minutes.”

Lord Louis narrowed his eyes and watched for a while, then shook his head slightly: “It’s not unusable—but it’s too complex, not cost-effective, and this level of high temperature and duration isn’t enough to justify the rarity of Fire Scale Paste.”

Silco shrugged, spreading his hands: “My Lord, as you know, besides magic explosions, I don’t have much interest in other weapons. How about—you think, and I’ll make?”

Lord Louis didn’t answer immediately; instead, he lowered his head and was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the scorched ground left after the Fire Scale Paste burned out.

The heat still lingered in the air, like a battlefield that hadn’t yet settled.

His mind began to piece together various fragmented inspirations and images.

Lord Louis suddenly looked up, a flash of inspiration in his eyes.

“What if it’s not sprayed,” he murmured to himself, “but—directly jetted out?”

He thought of obsolete weapons from his previous life.

Not an explosion thrown out, but close-range, continuous jetting flame damage.

A grasp of flames in hand, like a released fire snake, consuming everything in its path.

The struggling limbs of the Worm-Eaten Household were burned and twisted in mid-air, forcibly contorted and carbonized by the high temperature.

Yes, that was a flamethrower.

Instantly, Lord Louis had a rough conceptual drawing in his mind.

Silco blinked, asking suspiciously: “Jet—out?”

“Yes.” Lord Louis’s eyes sharpened, his tone decisive, “Using the viscosity and high ignition point of Fire Scale Paste, combined with a compressed spray system, to create a controllable path of flame.”

As he spoke, he had already picked up paper and pen, his wrist flying, sketching a simple yet clear structural diagram on the parchment.

“This is the main tank, for holding the Fire Scale Paste—you can think of it as an alchemically modulated super lamp oil; once ignited, the temperature can exceed six hundred degrees, and it can burn continuously in any environment.”

“The other tank is for compressed gas, like a powerful air pump. It doesn’t ignite; instead, it ‘sprays the lamp oil out.’ The lamp oil is ‘pushed’ by the compressed gas from behind, through a metal pipe to the front nozzle.”

“The nozzle needs a built-in igniter, like a flint, that sparks when the trigger is pulled. When the oil sprays out and is ignited by the sparks, it becomes a true tongue of flame.”

As soon as Silco heard this, his previously nonchalant expression became focused, and he couldn’t help but smack his lips softly:

—My Lord, you really dare to think big.”

“Don’t just stand there and watch,” Lord Louis slapped the blueprint into his hand, “This requires your cooperation in modulating a special Fire Scale Paste ratio. It can’t be too thin or too thick; it needs to be able to spray out and stick to the target without falling off. Can you make it?”

Silco took the blueprint, scanned it carefully, then shrugged and curled his lips: “Don’t worry, My Lord, this is too simple; I can whip it up for you very quickly.”

“Very good.” Lord Louis turned to look at Mac.

“High temperature, continuous, controllable, propelled—”

The old craftsman stared at the blueprint with a serious expression, his beard trembling slightly, but a glint of eagerness gradually appeared in his eyes.

He said gruffly: “My Lord—your mind is truly frightening.”

He paused, then grinned, “But I like it. I just love the things that come out of your great mind!”

“You’ve worked hard.” Lord Louis said softly, “We will probably need it soon. Mac, you might be busy for a while. Of course, I won’t mistreat you in the future.”

Mac straightened his back, patting his chest with a thick hand: “Your word is my command, I’ll do it even if it kills me!”