Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Inside the meeting hall on the third floor of the main building of Red Tide Castle,

The brazier burned brightly, dispelling the chill brought by the first snow outside.

Several Mages in grey-blue cloaks sat around a round table, sipping tea and conversing in low voices.

A few elderly but spirited faces, mixed with several young and steady accompanying apprentices, carried an undeniable air of distinction.

Beside the main seat, an old man with white hair, gentle eyes, and a slightly rounded figure was taking out a clean handkerchief to wipe the monocle on his nose.

This was Archmage Herman Elwood, who was leading the team this time.

Seeing Louis and his entourage enter, he immediately stood up and greeted them with a beaming smile.

"Oh my, is this Lord Louis, who the entire Magician Forest has been talking about for a year? He's even younger than I imagined."

Louis Calvin performed a half-bow, his tone neither humble nor arrogant: "Welcome, everyone, from afar. The Red Tide Territory's conditions are simple; please forgive any shortcomings in hospitality."

"Simple?" Herman lightly tapped the table, his eye wrinkles deepening with his smile. "Along the way, I've seen many post-disaster territories; some are ravaged, others barely maintained. Compared to those ruins, this place is simply paradise!"

After the pleasantries, the atmosphere became a bit more serious. Herman took a sip of tea and changed the subject.

"Although the Doomsday Mother Nest has been completely destroyed by you, still—"

He pulled out a parchment blueprint from his Pregnant, spread it on the table. "We still cannot confirm whether the ecosystem of these Worm-Eaten Households has truly died." The blueprint showed a record of fragmented Worm-Eaten Household remnants and magic pattern Context.

Herman's expression also grew a few shades more serious: "In the samples I brought back, I discovered a peculiar magical energy corrosive crystal. On the surface, it looks like magic residue, but in reality, it's more like fragments of a 'spore consciousness'—like a dead brain still trying to move."

He sighed softly and said, "We have to suspect whether there's still a possibility of a 'resurrection mechanism' in what the Doomsday Mother Nest left behind, even if it's only localized, it would be enough to create a new disaster."

"So you came in person?"

Herman nodded: "Yes, the Supreme Mage was worried—"

He paused, then smiled again, "Of course, we're not just here to investigate insects—a few months ago, you submitted an application to join the Magician Forest. It's just that with the situation in Red Tide, I guessed you wouldn't be able to spare a few months to go to our headquarters for the test, right?"

Louis nodded and asked, "Does the Mage test require going to a special training ground? I remember there's an open space in the northern training ground, at least it's safer."

Herman grinned: "No need to trouble yourself. We've specially prepared some small tools this time, so testing here is perfectly fine."

The accompanying Mages placed wooden boxes one by one in the center of the hall and opened them with a few clicks.

Inside the boxes were several simple tools and instruments emitting faint magical fluctuations.

Emily stood by, her eyes fixed on Louis, looking as if to say, "What other surprises do you have that I don't know about?"

Then her gaze followed the unpacking of the items, with a hint of nervous anticipation.

"We will conduct three tests," Herman said, pointing to the items in the box.

Louis nodded, but a hint of deep thought quietly flickered in his calm eyes.

It had finally come to this step.

He looked up at the Mages; several young ones had uneasy expressions, their gazes a mix of scrutiny and expectation.

Emily stood at the edge of the hall, as if she was nervous for him, and also as if she was silently proud.

He spoke softly, "Then let's begin."

The atmosphere in the meeting hall quieted, even the crackling of the fireplace seemed much softer.

Herman took a small transparent funnel from the test box and handed it to Louis.

"Here, this is the first testing instrument our magic apprentices use," he explained with a smile, "A Siphon Hourglass. Mages call it the 'Bottle of Patience.' If the magic is too strong, it will explode; if it's too weak, it won't flow. To make it stable, you have to guide it like drawing water through a thread."

Louis looked down at the instrument.

The hourglass was crystal clear, with tiny greyish-white sand particles suspended inside, as if frozen in time.

Faint blue magic patterns were inscribed on the surface of the funnel, quietly emitting a faint cold light in his palm.

He flicked a finger, the fine sand trembled slightly, then he took a deep breath and slowly drew in magic power.

The next moment, the Siphon Hourglass vibrated gently, and the still sand particles seemed to awaken, slowly beginning to rotate and float in the air, as if awaiting their master's guidance.

Louis concentrated his magic power at his fingertips, gently pulling it, like plucking an extremely fine string.

The first trickle of sand slowly descended, falling into the glass chamber below.

The air seemed to solidify for a moment.

Everyone's gaze was focused on his hand.

That tiny hourglass, that almost imperceptible thin line of sand, and that hand gesture as steady as still water.

Louis's face was focused, faint beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, as if he was concentrating completely on controlling every single grain of sand.

However, only he knew that all of this was just the tip of the iceberg of his magic control.

He even deliberately created a slight fluctuation in the middle, the sand flow suddenly paused, then stabilized again, as if 'barely salvaged'.

Several young Mages gasped, someone whispered: "He... he hasn't studied meditation, has he? How is his control so stable?"

"This level of stability, even apprentices who have been in the academy for three years might not be able to achieve it."

"And he didn't use any incantations at all."

Herman narrowed his eyes slightly, stroking his grey beard and nodding gently: "Very good, very good. A rare genius among wild Mages."

Emily stood by, her eyes fixed on Louis, gleaming with admiration.

When the last grain of sand fell to the bottom of the bottle, the Siphon Hourglass emitted a crisp "ding," as if announcing the end of the test.

Herman chuckled as he took the instrument, carefully putting it away, and teased: "Kid, when it ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) comes to talent, you're set."

Herman chuckled as he took the Siphon Hourglass, carefully putting it back into the test box, his movements as slow as his aged appearance, yet showing great respect for the tool.

He stroked his beard, a smile playing on his lips: "Kid, your magic control is quite good. You didn't follow the traditional path, but you're steadier than many Mage apprentices."

His tone was relaxed, with a hint of praise, yet also seemed to be probing.

Louis merely smiled faintly and said in a low voice, "Perhaps it's because I messed around a lot when I was young and happened to grasp some tricks."

He spoke modestly, his tone gentle and unhurried, without a trace of self-satisfaction.

"Control is one thing, but we also need to see if you have explosive power." Herman's smile didn't fade; he waved his hand, "Come, prepare for the second round."

He took a grey-black round stone from the accompanying Mage, about the size of a palm, with a rough surface, faintly revealing silvery-white veins like cracks running through it.

"The second round tests magical explosive power." He placed the stone on the table and tapped it gently. "Coalstone Burst. If you hit its internal structure with overheated magic, it will explode. Of course, this requires a large amount of magic; if there's not enough magic, it won't ignite at all."

With that, he winked at the Mages behind him.

Two young Mages quickly ran forward, skillfully setting up protective barriers around, and cordoned off a safe distance with red ropes, even politely asking Emily to step back a couple of paces.

Louis looked at the coalstone, exhaled softly, and took a step forward.

He raised his right hand, fingers slightly spread, and in his palm, a tiny fiery red glow quietly gathered.

To outsiders, it looked like a slow, laborious gathering of magic, even fluctuating unsteadily multiple times due to unfamiliarity.

But only Louis himself knew that he was suppressing the magic power that almost instinctively surged out, reducing it to less than one-fifth.

The flame slowly took shape, not large, but intensely hot and oppressive.

He steadied his feet, focused his attention, and cast the fire towards the center of the coalstone, at the silvery-white crack.

"Bang!!!"

It was as if a thunderclap had exploded.

The coalstone instantly swelled violently and then burst with a roar.

Black smoke billowed out, and a scorching blast of air roared, sweeping in all directions.

"Sealing spell!" Herman reacted extremely quickly, sweeping his sleeve to form a silver-blue light shield in the air, perfectly covering the splashing fragments and heat wave.

Even so, some smoke still dispersed, filling the hall, and the air was momentarily filled with the smell of sulfur and charcoal,

"Cough... cough."

Louis took a step back, slightly flustered as he shielded himself from the dust, then lowered his head and gasped a couple of times, his expression perfectly controlled.

It didn't look like exhaustion, but it was certainly not easy, like a newly advanced Mage who had pushed his power to the limit, even he admired his own acting.

But the Mages present were even more shocked.

"This explosion was too fast, wasn't it? The heat focusing process was almost imperceptible—"

"He didn't use any auxiliary spells, nor any incantation guidance, how could he hit the vital point in such a short time?"

"The fire directly struck the crack—was that instinct?"

Herman pondered for a moment, lightly tapping his staff with his finger, an undisguised look of admiration in his eyes.

"Extremely high affinity with fire elements, explosive power no less than Copper Face." He paused, then added with a smile, "And extremely accurate judgment, able to find the crack point at a glance. Good, very talented."

As the smoke from the coalstone gradually dispersed, the guards cleared the area, and the Mages also stood firm again.

Herman stroked his somewhat disheveled beard, ruffled by the explosion, and said with a smile, "The third test is simple; no tools needed."

He looked at Louis, his tone relaxed: "Just cast a few spells you're good at, let us see your fluency in application. Like Illumination, Wind Blade, Fireball—pick whatever you like."

"Just remember to be coherent and natural, don't be too constrained, relax."

Louis nodded. He raised his right hand, gently brushed his palm, and whispered: "Light spell."

A soft ball of light rose from his fingertips, like a lamp, suspended in mid-air, emitting a steady and warm glow.

The halo was not dazzling, but it clearly outlined his entire body, like the prelude to some kind of stage performance.

Immediately after, he waved the five fingers of his left hand, and the light ball was suddenly swept up by the wind.

A Wind Blade sliced past his palm with a whoosh, tearing through the thin mist in the air, making a clear cutting sound.

He shifted his feet lightly, flipped his hands, and a ball of fire leaped from his fingertips—a Fireball.

The Fireball rapidly expanded in the air, then was precisely compressed by him to the size of a fist, spinning, rolling, leaping, as if endowed with life and agility.

He spun it at his fingertips for a moment before flicking it out with a crisp sound.

The Fireball arced gracefully through the air, landed lightly, and extinguished silently, without a single spark flying out.

He smiled faintly, retracted his hand, and stood, his breathing as steady as before, as if he had merely done a casual stretch.

In that instant, the council hall was silent.

Several young Mages' mouths were slightly agape, even forgetting to close them,

"...He didn't use standard incantations, nor did he channel magic patterns to guide it, he just released it by instinct?"

"Too proficient, isn't it? The Illumination spell didn't flicker, the Wind Blade didn't stray, the Fireball didn't explode—this can't possibly be just 'crude magic' level."

"His movements are like the instinctive release learned in combat, completely unlike the traces of systematic academy education."

Herman also paused, then burst into laughter, walking a few steps closer with his staff:

"You, young man, are truly a prodigy! To be able to use it so steadily just by intuition—this isn't talent, it's innate comprehension."

He paused, clicking his tongue: "It's like—a genius of wild enlightenment."

Emily stood at the side of the hall, her eyes practically glowing: "This man is simply omnipotent—"

But Louis merely smiled faintly, seemingly unfazed by his recent display.

Herman patted his shoulder, half-jokingly saying: "Why don't you just skip the assessment and come directly to our Magician Forest as a lecturer?"

Louis smiled gently: "When I was young, I met an old wild Mage in my family—he saw I had good talent and taught me some basic things."

No one knew that the so-called "basic teachings" were actually the final legacy of the deceased legendary Mage Lokken.

At this moment, he just wanted to get a pass, allowing him to legally use magic and access other magical information.

He didn't need to be overly dazzling.

Just enough to be astonishing, enough to "pass exceptionally" in a reasonable manner.

If he were to truly display his full strength, the Mages present today would probably be scared into requesting instructions from their superiors: "A monster has appeared here."

As the last flicker of the spell slowly extinguished in the air, Herman gently applauded, and the surrounding Mages also nodded in approval.

This was not a perfunctory applause, but a genuine acknowledgment of a genius not shaped by tradition.

Herman walked forward, leaning on his staff, and announced with a smile:

"Louis Calvin, you have exceptionally passed the Magician Forest's basic entry test. Effective immediately, you are granted the title of 'Iron Mask Mage.'"

With that, he took out a dark grey mask from his robe sleeve, simple in design, engraved with the silver-white magic patterns symbolizing the Magician Forest.

"This is a magic mask, symbolizing your formal recognition by the Magician Forest, though it is still entry-level."

He waved his hand again, and a young Mage stepped forward, handing him a small, gold-edged scroll and a black-covered personal notebook.

"This is a pass signed by the Supreme Mage himself, allowing you access to some of the outposts established by the Magician Forest in various locations."

"Furthermore," Herman added, "considering you are in the North, and it's impossible for you to personally visit the Magician Forest headquarters in the short term, we have already prepared a batch of beginner magic books for you to study and use."

An accompanying Mage opened a book box nearby, inside which several magic books with thick covers and magic patterns printed on them were neatly arranged.

Louis took the Mage mask, and the moment his fingertips touched the metal, there was no sudden joy in his heart, but rather an indescribable sense of distance.

This object carried not just weight, but also rules, acknowledgment, and the constraints of some external order.

He certainly understood what this symbolized: a legitimate magical identity, the initial recognition of the Magician Forest, a path to more knowledge and magical resources.

But he knew in his heart that this path would not change his goal, nor would it determine his height.

He had reached this point not by the grace of others, but by his own calculations and decisions, and his own golden finger.

But Louis would not show this detachment.

He looked up, his gaze steady, his tone appropriately expressing the gratitude and decorum expected of a young lord:

"Thank you, Lord Herman. I know this mask is not just recognition for me, but also trust. If you encounter any difficulties in the North, I will do my utmost as a member of the Magician Forest."

These words held no humility, yet conveyed a sense of proper measure.

Herman smiled faintly upon hearing this, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.

He patted Louis's shoulder: "This is just the most basic entry-level identity. If you wish to advance to a formal Mage, whether it's Copper-Pattern, Silver-Pattern, Gold-Pattern...

Then you will have to personally go to our Magician Forest core area and undergo formal trials and contracts. After all, most high-level information cannot be lent out; that's the rule.

However, we will all be staying in the Red Tide Territory for a while this winter, as the North is not a suitable place for Mages to travel long distances in winter. If you have any questions, you are welcome to come to our temporary outpost and ask. My door is always open for you."

Louis put away the mask and bowed solemnly to Herman: "Thank you, Lord Herman. After this period, I will definitely visit the Magician Forest myself."