Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Lord Louis rode on a Red Tide warhorse, followed by hundreds of "peculiarly dressed knights" carrying bottles and jars.

It looked quite comical on the battlefield, but the flamethrowers, explosive jars, and modified Magic Bombs on each person were enough to make the Worm-Eaten Household tremble in fear.

This was not a regular army, but the Red Tide Knights, specializing in attacking insect corpses.

"First, head Southeast, bypassing the valley ahead," Lord Louis murmured to himself, looking at the intelligence displayed on the Daily Intelligence System.

In the past few days, Lord Louis had used the intelligence system to help them bypass several heavily contested Worm-Eaten Household strongholds and successfully approach Frost Halberd City with almost no losses.

Thus, the team moved quietly.

There were no high-pitched horns or fluttering banners, only figures like a dark current in the snow moving through the forest, avoiding the main Worm-Eaten Household, maintaining a distance from large Mother Nests, and stealthily approaching Frost Halberd City from the flank.

Fortunately, the Dragon Blood Legion had already cleared the outer areas, and the Worm-Eaten Household density had plummeted.

As long as they didn't get too close to the Doomsday Mother Nest and the few un-cleared large Mother Nests, they wouldn't attract a large-scale encirclement.

And to avoid making their "opportunism" too obvious, Lord Louis still had the team conveniently take out a few batches of Worm-Eaten Household and one Mother Nest.

Flames shot into the sky, and flamethrowers roared.

The smell of burning, sour decay, and ignited insect shells mixed together. The Red Tide Knights, with their signature "high-temperature suppression tactics," crushed the Worm-Eaten Household, achieving remarkable results, and their superficial efforts were quite natural.

Just as they were about to pause and regroup, a knight galloped up, wearing the Frost Halberd emblem, and shouted from afar: "Viscount Louis of Red Tide! Duke Edmund requests your immediate entry into the city!"

The knight reined in his horse and saluted.

Lord Louis looked at the knight squad behind him, his tone not heavy, but carrying an unquestionable authority: "Follow me into the city. No trouble allowed."

"Yes, Lord!" The men responded solemnly.

Hooves trod on snow, and steel armor clanged.

Dozens of Red Tide Knights marched in formation, like a silently burning torch in the twilight. Their imposing aura, though not ostentatious, exuded a resolute sharpness.

However, just as they stepped into the outer perimeter of Frost Halberd, a roaring sound and the smell of burning reached them from ahead.

A Mother Nest was being breached, and at the center of the battlefield was the operation site of the Empire's strongest legion—the Dragon Blood Legion.

They were divided into three routes: heavy shield infantry steadily pushed forward, their Battle Qi surging beneath their iron armor.

Knights on both flanks charged like thunder, their blades flashing, sending insect flesh and blood flying.

Behind them was a support formation of fire spearmen, whose Magic Bomb javelins cut through the sky, precisely hitting the incubation chambers.

The entire Mother Nest was dismembered in less than fifteen minutes, its main body scorched by flames, black blood gushing, and its wails endless.

The insect corpses barely had a chance to form before being torn apart on the spot by the coordinated Battle Qi.

Lord Louis pulled on the reins and watched quietly for a moment.

He showed no surprise; instead, he lowered his head and glanced at the cavalry team behind him.

Every one of them was battle-hardened, skilled in using incendiary weapons, and served as tactical vanguards for "small-scale, high-impact" warfare.

But now, compared to the legion before them, surging like an iron flood with unified steps, the figures of the Red Tide Knights instantly seemed crude and small.

It wasn't that they weren't strong, but rather a direct gap in their realm.

"This... this is the Dragon Blood Knights," the guiding Leno Knight, sensing the change in atmosphere, proactively introduced.

He raised his hand and pointed to a red-armored figure charging forward, his voice filled with reverence: "That one, you must recognize the bravest vanguard, the one wielding a greatsword and cutting open the Mother Nest's dorsal cavity—that is precisely your elder brother, Gaius Calvin."

Lord Louis looked at the figure, whose back burned like a blazing sun.

Battle Qi surged around him like magma, transforming into a blazing sword domain. With one horizontal sweep, even the Mother Nest's body was scorched, erupting with a violent roar.

That was a thermal shockwave unleashed by top-tier Battle Qi under extreme compression.

In that instant, even from a hundred meters away, Lord Louis felt the air become thick and hot as if ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) it were being scorched.

He was somewhat shocked internally, then nodded gently: "...Is this the power of a Peak Knight?"

After watching for a moment without delay, hooves trod on snow, and the Red Tide Knights, led by Lord Louis, filed into Frost Halberd through the West Gate.

As soon as they entered the city gate, a strong smell of gunpowder assailed them.

The snow was already blackened by mud and blood, and makeshift defensive lines and infirmaries had been set up along the streets.

The temporarily converted transport channels were filled with carts dragging debris, artisans urgently moving ammunition, and military medics rushing about, a chilling aura penetrating like frosty wind.

"Settle down," Lord Louis dismounted and ordered, "Everyone on standby, no unauthorized movement without my command."

"Yes, Lord," the Red Tide Knights quickly formed up, as neat as ever.

He, draped in his cloak, walked alone into the main castle.

Deep within the castle, in the temporary council hall, the hearth fire was still warm, and scrolls and battle maps covered a table.

Duke Edmund leaned back in his chair, tired yet still imposing.

He saw Lord Louis at once and frowned slightly: "Why are you here? What happened at Red Tide? How is Emily?"

"Nothing," Lord Louis bowed slightly, his tone steady. "The situation in Red Tide Territory and Snowpeak County is stable. The main force of the Mother Nests has largely been drawn by you to the vicinity of Frost Halberd. I thought, since the most crucial part of the battle is here, I should come and see."

The Duke did not speak immediately, only staring at him for a moment before quietly uttering two words: "Nonsense. This is the place of decisive battle. How can a mere Viscount like you intervene?"

His words were stern, yet his tone was not high, as if he were scolding, yet also probing.

Lord Louis's expression remained unchanged as he calmly responded: "I didn't intend to steal credit. I just hoped to do what I could."

After a moment of silence, Edmund finally sighed, as if a weight had been lifted from his heart.

"Ah, since you're here, stay. The fact that you could hold Snowpeak County already makes you much stronger than most nobles in the North."

He put down his pen, his voice tinged with weariness: "The North now—it's in such a mess. Eventually, some new forces must emerge."

"The Dragon Blood Legion will leave, and the Emperor cannot keep his hand here forever. When the Southern nobles come to divide the territory, I also want to see if you, Louis, can take another step forward."

He looked at Lord Louis, his eyes no longer holding the usual scrutiny, but instead a subtle expectation.

"These old bones of mine will fall eventually," he whispered, "but if the North can truly rise again in the future—then I hope the one who supports it will at least... be a man."

The hearth fire reflected the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and also illuminated the last spark of hope that had not yet extinguished in his heart.

Lord Louis merely nodded gently, as calm as ever: "I wouldn't dare. I will do my best."

The corner of his mouth curved almost imperceptibly.

This old Duke had seemingly said it casually, but Lord Louis knew very well that behind it lay more important aspects of "recognition" and "cultivation."

The North was already shattered.

Among the Northern families, some had died, some were crippled, and now only a handful could stand on their own.

If the Empire wanted to rebuild its defenses after the war, the Emperor would certainly need "new nobles" to fill the vacancies.

As the "new lord" who successfully defended Snowpeak County and organized the most effective resistance against the Worm-Eaten Household, coupled with his marriage into the Edmund family—

He was already at the center of the stage.

With just one more performance in a decisive battle, a deadly Magic Bomb, a surprise attack to annihilate a Mother Nest—

He would have the chance to leap into becoming one of the most important nobles in the North.

This was precisely what he had been longing for.

The wind and snow did not cease, nor did the flames of war.

Within seven days, the ridges and valleys outside Frost Halberd City had already become a battlefield intertwined with scorched earth and ice marks.

The Dragon Blood Knights, like a sharp blade of the Empire cleaving the North, were inch by inch cutting off the "blood supply arteries" of the Doomsday Mother Nest.

Thirteen medium-sized Mother Nests, along with two hidden pseudo-lairs, were completely destroyed.

Their attack was like cutting through iron; heavy armored infantry advanced like an iron mountain, suppressing the main Worm-Eaten Household, while decapitation knights on red-eyed warhorses moved like shadows breaking the wind, flanking from both sides:

High-level Battle Qi soared like flames, intersecting with the mages' magic, each strike hitting the Mother Nest's nerves with precise accuracy, almost perfectly.

Everything was as swift as a tactical drill, yet it couldn't conceal the gradually intensifying smell of blood and fatigue in the air.

The Dragon Blood Knights were, after all, not gods.

They were humans, a war legion forged from flesh and blood and will.

Even the strongest decapitation squad suffered casualties; even the sharpest Battle Qi would become heavy after repeated slaying.

With their own blood, they had painstakingly torn the area around Frost Halberd City out of the mire of the Worm-Eaten Household, paving a pure land directly towards the Doomsday Mother Nest.

The Doomsday Mother Nest was undoubtedly in despair.

But that "mountain," silent amidst the black mist and insect blood, remained unmoving.

The Doomsday Mother Nest still stood like a false god, as if everything was its sacrificial stage, awaiting the final act.

Deep within the Doomsday Mother Nest, flesh and blood writhed.

It was a hall seemingly condensed from the wails of the dead and blood; the walls were interwoven with writhing intestines and bone teeth, and milky white incubation fluid dripped from the ceiling. The air was filled with a mixed stench of death, decay, and gestation.

The Despair Witch sat upon a "throne" pieced together from twisted human bones and insect shells.

She wore a crimson trailing gown, her skin pale and translucent, like a sculpted jade statue.

Her face was exquisitely beautiful, androgynous, with a perpetually enigmatic smile on her lips.

But when she spoke, it was in a low, effeminate, male whisper, as if pouring whispers of decay and fate into one's ear: "...It's almost time."

She opened her eyes, and her blood-red irises reflected countless dying battlefield fragments: insects burning, Mother Nests collapsing, Battle Qi burning out.

Everything was clearly fed back into her mind.

"The concentration of death—it's almost enough," she murmured softly, her tone like a lover's whisper.

The next instant, she snapped her fingers gently.

Snap!

The entire Doomsday Mother Nest suddenly seemed to come alive, letting out a sharp roar, a mix of a baby's tearing cry and the shriek of ten thousand insects.

It made one's scalp tingle.

From the core of its sacs, a strange crimson light emanated from deep within the Mother Nest. This was the "consciousness core" connecting all insect corpses, and every nerve seemed to be infused with blood-flames, beginning to pulsate rapidly.

Inside the incubation chambers, large quantities of dormant insect eggs rapidly swelled and cracked. Unformed "pseudo-offspring" surged out, like viscous blood-infants crawling out of hell.

"Let every corpse in this world—turn into my tongue and tendrils."

A moist whisper emerged from her mouth, accompanied by the writhing at the base of the Mother Nest.

"Now, no one can stop this 'return,'" the Despair Witch gently licked her finger, her smile growing even softer. "Welcome—my final feast is about to begin."

The "Doomsday Mother Nest" activated.

First to move were its raised arms.

The maternal arms, spread open like a sacred image, trembled slightly in the air, their joints emitting a distorted "clacking" sound.

Large quantities of milky white incubation fluid dripped from her eyeless face, as if a compassionate deity was weeping.

And her face—that hypocritical face fused from dozens of human faces—slowly lifted.

Every wrinkle retained pleas and adoration, and every open mouth seemed to softly murmur: "Come back—all my children."

Her chest swelled slightly, and the next instant, "Bang!"

The entire incubation chamber burst forth with a viscous, pulsating sound, like a beating uterus. Countless milky white and blood-red intertwined egg sacs spewed out, hatching upon landing into unformed offspring, struggling and shrieking in the blood plasma, emitting chilling infant cries.

Her chest and abdomen suddenly exploded, gushing out large clumps of egg sacs. Some cracked in mid-air, splattering hot blood plasma and milky white insect fetuses, forming a writhing nightmare upon landing.

The cries of infants echoed in the air, one after another.

But those were not infants; they were killing embryos, lives reassembled after their bones were broken.

Every cry seemed to stir fear and regret deep within human instinct.

And her lower body—that writhing "spider-leg base"—also fully awakened.

Tendrils like pillars, like skeletons, pierced into the earth, deeply embedded in the rock layers of Frost Halberd Mountain, like roots of flesh wildly devouring all surrounding energy.

Her body slowly lifted, dragging a mile-long insect shell passage, moving with a slick and rhythmic rubbing sound,

Like the tragic re-enactment of a giant infant sliding through a birth canal.

The moment the "Doomsday Mother Nest" awakened, the Dragon Blood Knights on the front line were naturally the first to sense it. A loud command reached the knights' ears: "Put on your masks, full armor state—immediately."

The Dragon Blood Knights on the front line did not hesitate; they knew what the command meant.

Everyone swiftly donned their full-face helmets, the visors clicking into airtight locks at the throat with their breastplates.

Filtering runes and Battle Qi flow intertwined with each breath, isolating external gases.

The entire legion, in an instant, seemed to transform into a group of faceless people.

Then, the earth trembled.

It wasn't ordinary vibration, but a deeper, more "low-frequency" resonance, as if the earth's veins were groaning, submitting.

The tremor from deep within the mountain's belly, mixed with the sound of some viscous liquid writhing, seeped into one's bones from the soles of their feet.

The next instant, a pungent odor assailed them.

Snow fell above the Mother Nest, but evaporated upon contact, turning into black mist that spread like the breath of mourners.

The knights heard whispers from "another world," as if they weren't hearing with their ears, but receiving with their brain marrow.

Someone in a helmet trembled and said, "This is—a curse."

But before anyone could react, the corpses on the ground moved.

Whether it was a knight who died in the snow, or remnants left by the Worm-Eaten Household earlier, or just a detached arm bone, a segment of intestine, a broken face.

They all moved.

Pulled by some unspeakable will, they struggled, writhed, crawled, and entangled with each other as if summoned.

Some used their severed limbs to climb onto another decaying corpse, some bit bones to forcibly reattach, some stuffed broken organs into empty cavities.

They were assembling, reassembling, being born.