Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Her consciousness drifted between chaos and reality, like sinking into the deep sea, then being slowly pulled back to the surface.

Sif slowly opened her eyes, her blurry vision gradually becoming clear.

What greeted her eyes was an unfamiliar wooden ceiling, and the air was filled with a faint scent of smoke and fire.

Her body was wrapped in warm bedding, and her skin could clearly feel the comfortable temperature.

Instinctive caution made her quickly scan her surroundings.

It was a wooden house, with simple but clean walls and beams, a few basic wooden tables and chairs, and a fireplace with a warm fire burning.

Fortunately, there were no chains of captivity, nor any obvious weapons.

Sif tried to turn over, but she felt her body was completely unresponsive, too weak to even move slightly.

Damn it! This body can't move at all!

This made her heart sink.

Then, tragic memories flooded back like a tide.

The destruction of the Han Yue Tribe.

Her brothers, sisters, and parents all died tragically due to betrayal.

Her last elder brother sacrificed himself to cover her escape, perishing with the enemy.

She closed her eyes, grief washing over her, her chest feeling as if a huge rock was pressing down on it, making it hard for her to breathe.

“At least I’m still alive, and I still have a chance for revenge!”

She gritted her teeth, suppressing the soreness in her eyes, and tried to calm her emotions.

Just then, the wooden door creaked open.

Sif suddenly opened her eyes, looking warily towards the doorway.

She had expected to see unfamiliar soldiers, nobles, or the murderers who slaughtered her tribesmen.

However, what entered was a thin middle-aged woman, who looked to be in her forties, with wrinkles on her face.

She was dressed in simple cotton clothes, holding a tray with a bowl of porridge and a cup of warm water, the rising steam carrying a hint of food aroma.

Seeing that Sif was awake, surprise flashed in the woman’s eyes: “Oh, you’re finally awake, child, you’re so lucky to be alive.”

The middle-aged woman gently lifted Sif’s upper body, letting her lean against the soft pillow.

Then she picked up a cup of warm water and slowly brought it to her mouth, saying in a gentle tone, “Drink some water first to moisten your throat; you’ve been unconscious for several days.”

After a moment of hesitation, Sif finally parted her lips slightly, allowing the woman to bring the rim of the cup close to her mouth.

The warm water slowly flowed into her mouth, and the burning sensation in her throat finally received some relief.

Sif couldn't help but swallow gently, her consciousness gradually becoming clearer with the nourishment of the water.

“Slowly, don’t rush.” The woman’s tone carried a hint of pity, “Poor child, you must have suffered a lot...”

Sif’s eyelashes trembled slightly, a dark emotion flashing in her eyes, but she did not respond to the woman’s words.

“If it weren’t for the Lord sending someone to save you, you probably would have been carried off by wild beasts!” The woman began to chatter to herself while gently patting her back.

Sif lowered her eyes slightly upon hearing this, her fingertips subtly tightening.

The Lord?

Is he a noble from the south?!

Vigilance rose in her heart, but her face remained silent.

The woman didn’t notice her change in mood and continued to chatter: “Don’t be afraid. Although our Lord is young, he is a remarkable person, and kind-hearted; he can’t stand to see people suffer.

Don’t you know? He even saves injured slaves; we refugees have received a lot of care from him.”

She spoke casually, but Sif felt increasingly uneasy.

She had actually been picked up by a noble from the Southern Barbarians!

From childhood, she had heard countless rumors about the Iron-Blood Empire.

They were cunning invaders, each one cold-blooded and ruthless, fond of deceiving the weak with lies, then {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} mercilessly devouring everything.

And now she had fallen into the hands of such people, and Sif felt increasingly uneasy.

First and foremost, she must not let them know her true identity.

Although her family was now destroyed, her identity as the former princess of the Han Yue Tribe still held immense value.

To those in power, she was a very useful political bargaining chip.

She might even be sent to the Imperial court, becoming a plaything for some noble.

Sif could never accept such a fate.

So, what should she do now?

Her fingers curled slightly, her heart beating uneasily.

Escape directly?

Sif quickly dismissed this idea.

Her body was currently immobile, and she had no knowledge of the local terrain.

Fleeing rashly would either lead to her dying on the road or being captured and brought back, and her situation would only worsen then.

Pretend to be obedient?

Perhaps this was an option.

She could pretend to be obedient first, secretly observe everything here, and then look for a suitable opportunity to escape.

But in doing so, she would have to act cautiously, not letting the other party know her identity, nor letting them sense her intention to escape.

Of course, most importantly, she had to figure out what kind of person this “Lord” truly was.

If he was truly a kind person, as the middle-aged woman said, then perhaps she could have some breathing room.

But if he was only outwardly benevolent and inwardly just as cold and ruthless, then she had to prepare for the worst.

In any case, she could not sit idly by.

As she was lost in thought, footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, accompanied by a guard’s announcement: “The Lord has arrived.”

Sif’s body instinctively tensed, her fingertips clutching the bedding, holding her breath.

She had mentally prepared herself to face an Imperial noble with a fleshy face, lecherous eyes, and reeking of strong perfume.

She had even rehearsed the upcoming scene countless times in her mind.

If the other party humiliated her, she would pretend to be submissive and wait for an opportunity to escape.

However, when the door was pushed open, reality was completely beyond her expectations.

What walked in was a handsome young man with black hair.

He looked to be just over twenty years old, tall and upright, dressed neatly and elegantly, neither overly luxurious nor shabby; everything was just right.

He had no strong, pungent perfume, no exaggerated, flashy gold ornaments, and no brutal, bloodthirsty aura; he even exuded a refreshing and capable air.

His eyes held scrutiny, but it wasn't the condescending kind of disdain; there was even a hint of gentleness in his eyes?

Sif was stunned for a moment.

This is... a noble of the Iron-Blood Empire?

This was completely inconsistent with the education she had received since childhood!

In her perception, the nobles of the Iron-Blood Empire were either fat and greedy good-for-nothings or cold-blooded butchers; they were bloodthirsty, arrogant, and viewed the northern barbarians as livestock.

But this young man in front of her didn't look like that kind of person at all.

But she quickly came to her senses, an alarm blaring in her heart.

Don't be deceived by appearances!

This man might just be better at disguising himself than other Southern Barbarians.

His clean appearance and elegant demeanor did not mean he lacked ambition or cunning.

Therefore, she had to be even more careful!

Sif suppressed the doubts in her heart, her eyelids lowered, silently observing his every move.