Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Daily Intelligence Update Complete:

1: Asta August is touring the Northern Territory out of boredom. Red Tide Territory is one of his key targets for inspection.

2: A young apprentice craftsman named Hamilton in Red Tide Territory possesses rare combined talents in machinery and alchemy, potentially becoming a master craftsman in the future.

3: Titus of the Frostflame Tribe led three thousand elite soldiers to launch an offensive against the Shattered Axe and Red Rock tribes with the aid of the Scorching Pain Vine Garden, achieving a decisive victory despite being outnumbered, and forcibly integrating the barbarian armies of both tribes under his command.

4: The vanguard and scout units dispatched by the Frostflame Tribe have quietly crossed the border and are secretly stationed in a canyon not far from Red Tide Territory.

Seeing the first piece of information, he didn't even lift an eyelid, his mouth twitching imperceptibly.

There wasn't much surprise, nor was there any tension.

“Let him come if he wants,” Louis leaned back on the cushion, his expression indifferent. “He was bound to see it sooner or later anyway.”

“Given the current scale of Red Tide Territory, there’s nothing left to hide. Towns, roads, factories, thermal energy centers—let him see everything that can be seen.”

He paused, his tone calm with a hint of sarcasm: “Of course, what’s truly valuable won’t be displayed at the front door.”

The original formula for Frostleaf Potion, the structure of the Magic Bomb, the plan for the Honey Aura Potion—

He never intended to show these to anyone, let alone the Sixth Prince of the Iron-Blood Empire.

He tapped his knee with his knuckles. “But letting him see the order and efficiency of Red Tide isn’t a bad thing.”

His gaze then fell on the second piece of information: “A young apprentice craftsman in Red Tide Territory...” This time, his eyes noticeably narrowed.

“Oh?”

His eyebrows rose, and a long-absent hint of interest appeared in his eyes.

He reached into the side pocket of the seat and pulled out a thick small booklet—his “Talent Roster,” which he kept with him specifically for capturing this type of intelligence.

The booklet recorded various names filtered from the daily intelligence, from Agricultural Affairs Officer Mike, to Craftsman Valentine, to Administrative Officer Knight Green—most of whom had now become indispensable backbone forces on various main lines of Red Tide Territory.

“Being able to get several industries running so quickly... it all relies on this intelligence,” he thought to himself, flipping through a few pages and stopping at the most recent entry to write:

No. 147: Hamilton, Craftsman Apprentice, Mechanical/Alchemical Dual Potential

He closed the booklet and lightly tapped the cover: “Another treasure found.”

Louis’s gaze lingered on the third piece of information for an unusually long time.

He had been half-leaning on the carriage seat, holding the intelligence booklet in one hand, his expression relaxed and lazy.

But upon seeing this news, his eyes instantly tightened, and he sat up straight.

Intelligence from a few days ago still reported Titus’s continuous defeats, with the Frostflame Tribe on the verge of collapse.

He had thought the Frostflame Tribe was about to withdraw from the Northern Territory's struggle, but in just one night, they had staged a comeback and even swallowed two barbarian armies?

This turn of events was too drastic, too fast, and too unsettling.

His brow furrowed slightly, and his finger tapped the words “Scorching Pain Vine Garden.”

“Scorching Pain Vine Garden? What is that?”

He had never heard this term, nor had any records mentioned such an existence.

A completely unfamiliar “trump card” that could rewrite the war suddenly appeared.

It only reminded him of the mother nests emerging from underground—a nightmare he didn't want to relive.

“Another ancient magic...”

His eyes grew cold, and his vigilance instantly reached its peak. Regardless, it was time to redeploy Red Tide Territory’s military system.

This so-called “Frostflame Alliance” would likely integrate a new military order in the Northern Territory before long.

Once they unified, Red Tide, as the most stable developing force in the Northern Territory, would undoubtedly become one of the battlefields.

Preparations must be made in advance. He then calmly scanned the fourth piece of information.

“Scouts crossing the border, stationed at the edge of my territory—”

Louis narrowed his eyes, pondered for a few breaths, then lightly tapped the carriage window frame: “On the way back, detour near that canyon and ‘invite’ that group of people over.”

His gaze shifted to Sif, who was still sound asleep beside him.

Her white hair was scattered messily on the blanket, her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and her face was serene.

Wasn't the predecessor of the Frostflame Tribe the Han Yue Tribe?

If those vanguards were truly remnants of Han Yue, Sif might still recognize them. At that time, it wouldn’t hurt to let her talk to them first.

After reading the intelligence, Louis closed the intelligence booklet with swift, decisive movements.

Even while traveling, he never slackened his daily cultivation.

He closed his eyes slightly, sat cross-legged in the center of the carriage, slowly circulating the aura breathing technique within his body, while guiding the flow of magic from meditation in his spiritual domain.

The two intertwined, and with each breath, blood and spiritual energy resonated, immersing his entire being into a state of quiet, iron-like cultivation.

He had maintained this cultivation for many years; it had long integrated into his life, as natural as eating and sleeping.

After finishing his cultivation, he opened his eyes, his spirit even more restrained and sharp.

“Mmm, are you finally done cultivating?” A familiar girlish voice echoed inside the carriage.

Sif had risen at some point, changed her clothes into a clean, light travel dress, and her white hair was tied into loose pigtails, making her look vibrant yet a little lazy.

She walked over, holding a small silver tray with a delicate breakfast: perfectly toasted bread rolls, hot pies with cheese filling, and Red Tide Territory’s special fruit jam and smoked meat.

“I specifically asked them to prepare it beforehand. If you didn't get up soon, it would all be cold.”

Sif turned her head, a slight curve to her lips: “You start cultivating as soon as you wake up. It’s rare to have someone eat breakfast with me.”

Louis reached out and took the tray, watching her with a smile in his eyes: “Isn’t it because someone was here to prepare it for me so early?”

“Hmph, sweet talker.” She pouted, sitting beside him, and picked up a piece of jam bread herself, taking a bite and chewing it very seriously.

The two ate quietly, the atmosphere for a time warm and leisurely.

“Oh, right,” Louis suddenly spoke halfway through eating, “The barbarians have started fighting again.”

Sif’s hand, holding the fork, paused, her expression subtly tightening.

“...Mm.” She softly responded, lowering her gaze.

Louis watched her, his expression unchanged, but meticulously observing her every subtle reaction.

Two years ago, she had told him her identity: the last princess of the Han Yue Tribe.

She still hated those who had killed her father and destroyed her tribe, but to this day, she didn't know who had done it, or which blade had taken her father’s head.

At that time, blood flowed like rivers, and the truth was long buried in the tribal warfare.

This hatred had no clear target, no means of revenge; it could only be sealed in her heart, like an unsheathed blade, silently drinking away at her every day.

“—I know someone among them harmed my father,” she said softly, her eyes gazing out at the misty mountains beyond the carriage window. “But who exactly, I still don’t know.”

She paused, her voice growing even softer: “And no one remembers the name Han Yue anymore.”

Over the years, she had assisted Louis step by step in managing Red Tide, evolving from a small secretary to a de facto administrator. Political affairs, mining, defense line deployment—she personally handled everything—and that hatred was covered layer by layer by these mundane tasks.

But it wasn't forgotten; she just tried her best not to think about it.

“If I could—” She lowered her head, a little shy, but still spoke frankly, “I just want to be with you now, have a son with you, and stay by your side properly—” 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

The carriage fell silent for a moment.

Louis raised an eyebrow slightly, a faint sigh and pity flickering in his eyes.

“This isn’t like your constantly gritting-your-teeth look from two years ago.”

“Do you want me to be like that? Are you a pervert?” She gave him a gentle glare, rebutting softly.

“No,” Louis reached out and stroked her hair, smiling slightly. “But since they’ve appeared again, you’ll have to face them sooner or later.”

Sif didn’t speak, only nodded gently.

This scout squad, though only a dozen or so strong, were all clad in heavy furs with sharp eyes.

Their appearance differed slightly from typical barbarians—more silent, more restrained.

Their animal hide battle robes weren't adorned with exaggerated bone ornaments but were muted in color, making it easier to move stealthily through the snowy forests.

Leading the way was a woman.

She was tall, carrying a double-bladed war spear on her back, with a ring of faded silver wolf fur wrapped around her shoulder armor, and a feathered bone hairpin stuck in her temple.

That was a traditional ornament of the old Han Yue Tribe, symbolizing “unextinguished fire beneath cold frost.”

Her face was sharply defined, her eyes like blade edges beneath ice, and though she said nothing, she instinctively made the rough men behind her rein in their levity.

Her name was Visa, and she was the temporary leader of this small squad.

They were remnants of the old Han Yue Tribe, forced to surrender after Frostflame’s decisive victory over Han Yue. Now, they were merely a marginal remnant within the Frostflame Tribe, barely even listed on the official military roster.

Visa and her squad belonged to the loyalist faction of Han Yue, sent by Titus to scout the Northern Territory. Nominally vanguards, in reality, they were merely marginalized pawns.

They knew that true trust had been buried with the blood on the snow the day Han Yue fell.

But if they could achieve military merit here, perhaps they could regain some initiative,

For themselves, and for that shattered old banner.

So they traveled south.

The first sensation upon crossing the border was desolation.

Withered yellow grass, dilapidated camps, half-rebuilt villages that had been burned, and uncleaned white bones drifting in the wind along the road.

The disaster brought by the mother nests had almost plunged the entire Northern Territory of the Empire into hell.

After all, the mother nests were initially planted by the Despair Witch within the Empire's borders, and the first wave of impact was fully directed at Frost Halberd City.

Conversely, the barbarian tribes outside the Northern Territory, being too far from the mother nest's center, only experienced minor ripples.

Thus, the current situation became extremely ironic—the wilderness remained intact, while the Empire's Northern Territory was heavily damaged.

They began to converse in low voices: if Frostflame could truly achieve tribal unification and then advance south, this broken Northern Territory might indeed be swallowed whole.

One scout licked his chapped lips: “If that day comes, we won’t have to beg the Empire for winter provisions anymore.”

Visa remained silent, but her gaze grew increasingly resolute.

For the tribes, this was a turning point; for them, the marginalized, it might be the only path upward.

They walked and observed along the way.

The desolate scenery almost numbed them.

Occasionally, they would see a few noble territories still operating, but whether it was soldiers or farmland, facilities or roads, they all seemed to be barely holding on, clinging to their last ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) breath, full of decay and on the verge of death.

But at the end of such a wasteland, they finally encountered an unexpected sight.

When the mountain path suddenly opened up, revealing an entire city cluster before their eyes, even the well-traveled Visa couldn't help but instinctively tighten her reins.

Red Tide Territory.

The city walls were neatly repaired, watchtowers stood tall, and passing carriages moved in an orderly flow.

Tall towers reflected a faint silver light in the sunlight, and distant workshops emitted regular white smoke.

Pedestrians on both sides of the road walked quickly but without any panic.

Even the patrolling cavalry were clad in uniform armor, their discipline so strict it didn't resemble what one would expect in the Northern Territory.

“Is this even real? In the Northern Territory, there’s a place like this?” a young scout murmured in disbelief.

“Frost Halberd City isn’t even this good,” another whispered, adding.

Visa said nothing, only staring at the signs, outposts, and road layout outside the city, her face gradually sinking.

This was no ordinary defense line; it was a war machine meticulously designed, continuously expanded, and maintained for years.

And clearly, it was still operating, even growing stronger.

They exchanged glances. No one spoke.

In the broken Northern Territory, this stable, complete, and even outrageously prosperous territory stood out starkly.

This was not a refuge for survivors; it was more like the beginnings of a new order.

“Set up camp nearby,” she finally spoke, her voice low but without hesitation. “Don’t alert them for now; let’s get a clearer look first.”

This was the most prosperous Northern Territory she had ever seen, and also the most dangerous.

They found a hidden campsite in a canyon outside Red Tide Territory.

It was a natural rock trench formation, the canyon long and narrow, surrounded by scaly rock walls, which provided both windbreak and concealment, and facilitated night post.

Visa and her team worked through the night to set up camouflage, keeping cooking fires low and rotating sentry posts, trying their best not to alarm any patrols.

She was extremely cautious; even if an unowned hawk flew by, she would track its trajectory without a moment's pause.

Because she vaguely felt that something was very wrong here.

Over the next few days, they took turns going out, constantly infiltrating the outer mountain areas, approaching the city defense routes, and even attempting to record the daily changing of guards and formation shifts.

“This couldn’t have been built in just a few years,” Visa murmured in a low voice, staring at the outline on the drawing board.

“A few years ago, this area was wasteland,” an old scout beside her whispered. “I remember, that year we were stealthily moving along the southern line, and we even camped here overnight. There was nothing then, just a stretch of marsh grass and dry bones.”

“But now,” the young scout lowered his binoculars, his voice hoarse, “it’s city walls, streets, workshops. This place looks like it just dropped out of the sky.”

What startled them most wasn't the prosperity, but the discipline.

Red Tide’s defenders showed no signs of laxity or idleness.

Sentries remained at their posts, patrols changed shifts on time, and each squad even coordinated with messenger hawks and light-pattern flag signals. Everything was as precise as a model drill from the Empire’s regular army command.

Even stranger, they hadn’t seen any obvious signs of “post-war reconstruction.”

There were no ruins, no burn marks, no traces of migrating refugees, and almost no casualties caused by the mother nests.

“—The mother nests didn’t reach here then?” someone speculated in a low voice.

Visa remained silent, repeatedly pondering the question.

How had they accomplished all of this in just a few years?

And then, on the evening of the fifth day, the situation suddenly changed.