Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Bone Gorge, a long, crack-like scar of the gods, stood deep within the White Bone Mountains of the Northern Territory.

Its two walls were covered in ice and snow, never melting year-round. This was the final burial ground during the fall of the Snow Country Dynasty a hundred years ago, rumored to inter a hundred thousand unwilling war souls.

Today, this was the battlefield chosen by Duke Edmund, the last line of defense in the Empire's Northern Territory, and a desperate gamble forged from the flesh and blood of fifty thousand men.

“Bury all Magic Bombs along the first line! A fire oil trench every fifty paces, running the entire length, leaving no gaps!” The Duke’s stern command echoed through the white snow.

Within seven days, all allied forces were organized into three defensive lines:

The first line consisted of light cavalry, acting like needles lurking beneath the ice, responsible for igniting traps, waiting only for the barbarians to step in.

The second line was composed of the Ninth Legion and the knights of other nobles, with the main cavalry forces of the Silverfang Army and the Broken Blade Army deployed in staggered layers, forming a triple-penetration defense, like a dense net woven from steel, ultimately used to harvest these barbarians.

The third line was personally guarded by the Cold Iron Army and the Duke’s personal guards, each clad in heavy armor, with shields like mountains and hammers like thunder.

They would clash head-on with the Frost Giants, serving as the true flesh-and-blood bulwark in this bloody battle.

Letters of last will from knights were handed to Edmund, their rough envelopes filled with hopes for their children, instructions for their wives, and regrets for their old mothers. He accepted each one, every letter heavy as a mountain.

“I will not let you die in vain,” he raised his head, his gaze piercing through the rolling mist.

In his final speech, Edmund raised his warhammer, his voice like thunder: “This battle is to the death! If the blood of the Northern Territory runs dry, then our blood shall be the boundary!

For the barbarians to destroy the Northern Territory, they must step over our corpses!”

At his command, fifty thousand warriors roared in unison, shattering the cold clouds!

The mountain wind howled, and snow mist sealed the sky.

In front of Bone Gorge, a team of several hundred Elite Knights moved against the wind.

Every knight’s hair was white, yet their steps never faltered.

They wore tattered cloaks, their silver-white armor long since mottled, covered in bloodstains and scars.

This was the allied vanguard suicide squad, and truly a group of old veterans of the Northern Territory.

“Having come this far, what’s there to be afraid of death?” The leader was Old Vak, an Extraordinary Knight from the Broken Blade Army.

The knife scars on his face crisscrossed like dry rivers, his left eye was already blind, yet he still held his greatsword high and walked at the very front.

No one understood better than them that this journey was a one-way trip.

But they voluntarily took on the most dangerous task, using their flesh and blood as bait to lure the barbarian main force, consumed only by rage and corruption, into the trap of Bone Gorge.

They had once slaughtered countless corpses during the insect plague and had defended border fortresses until only ten men remained.

Now, they were willing to embark once more on a path of near-certain death, just to draw in those monsters from the Abyss of Wrath, even if it meant burning their lives to ignite this blood trap.

“Kill! Kill them!!” 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Old Vak shouted, charging forward, cleaving down a vine-armored beast that lunged at him with a single sword strike.

They attacked these monsters with all their might, attracting their attention.

Then, they fiercely kicked their warhorses, turned to flee, constantly interspersing between fierce fighting and retreating, continuously leaving behind the corpses of both their own and the enemy, creating a bloody guiding line for sight and smell.

They never stopped, but their numbers continuously dwindled.

Finally, amidst the howling gale, the outline of the gorge appeared before them.

“Finally here...”

Old Vak stood at the gorge entrance, practically dragging his broken body.

He looked back, and the entire wasteland was a furious red glow. Tens of thousands of the barbarian main force, driven by rage, had lost their tactical judgment and were charging recklessly.

He spat out a mouthful of blood and chuckled softly: “Sending you to hell.”

He raised his sword one last time, turned, and charged towards these monsters.

At the end of Bone Gorge, dark shadows finally broke the pristine white silence.

At that moment, the earth trembled.

Hundreds of Frost Giants tore through the mist, their bodies wrapped in blazing vine armor, like war gods emerging from hell, approaching the gorge with roars like muffled thunder.

Beneath their feet was a tide-like barbarian legion.

The raging berserkers were naked, their muscles bulging, vines writhing out from beneath their skin, and furious flowers blooming on their backs.

Rift-jawed dogs, Icefield Wolves, and other magical beasts moved like shadows of the night, their teeth still retaining undigested bone and flesh.

Red mist spread across the snowy ground, and rage howled in the air.

At this moment, it felt as if death had truly arrived.

On the high platform of the gorge, Duke Edmund quietly watched the towering dark tide, whispering, “They succeeded...”

As the monster army drew closer, some trembled, some prayed softly, and some pulled out amulets hidden in their chests, clutching them tightly, as if holding the shadows of their loved ones.

The oppression was so suffocating it made it impossible to breathe.

Fifty thousand allied forces stood in silent formation, ambushed along the three defensive lines of the gorge, dormant and waiting like an iron torrent.

Once the enemy stepped in, it would be a collision of life and death. From within the snow mist, a dull drumbeat first echoed, like the heartbeat of a giant beast, shaking the cliff snow loose.

Immediately following, monster legions, one after another, came treading through the snow.

It was the barbarian main force, no longer even resembling humans.

Frost Giants led the vanguard, ten-meter-tall behemoths clad in black iron rage-vine armor, dragging blood-stained giant logs, roaring like thunder.

Groups of berserkers followed closely, their naked bodies covered in furious flowers and vines, their eyes blood-red like fire, wielding bladed weapons and rushing directly towards the front lines.

Magical beast armies were distributed on both flanks; packs of Rift-jawed dogs with bone-crushing fangs, Icefield Wolves treading through the snow, and blood-feathered lizards with carapace-like woven vines, twisted faces, and bone-sprouting backs, soared and roared in the sky.

This was not an army; it was a catastrophic tide forged by blood and fury!

“Drums.” Duke Edmund gave a brief command.

“Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!”

In that instant, ten thousand drums thundered in unison, and battle flags surged like a tide. At that moment, the previously silent and oppressive front line suddenly came alive.

Some wavering pioneer knights tightened their grip on their short spears and took a step forward, gritting their teeth.

In the Silverfang Army, a young knight, whose palms were slick with cold sweat, suddenly drew his longsword as if pushed by a mighty hand upon hearing the drumbeat.

An older knight, who had been muttering prayers with his head bowed, now looked up at the monsters on the horizon, his rage reignited, as if transported back to the glacial front line thirty years ago.

Fifty thousand warriors all moved half a step forward, their iron will condensing into an unshakeable wall of resolve.

The gorge wind whistled like a torn throat, and the world was left with only the colors of snow and blood.

Edmund stood on the command platform, frost congealing on his cloak and armor, his great hammer slowly rising.

“They’re in,” he whispered. “Light the hell.”

Just as the first Frost Giants stepped into the depths of the valley floor, a crisp “clack” sounded, like a war god opening his eyes.

“Boom!!!”

Instantly, the entire Bone Gorge was torn apart as if by thunder. Flames and rock fragments shot skyward, Magic Bombs ignited the trap belt, followed by the burning of fire oil. Black flames danced wildly like snakes, devoured like dragons, spreading hundreds of meters along the valley floor.

More than a dozen charging giants, caught off guard, were violently thrown into the air by the explosion. Their bodies disintegrated in the raging fire, black vines burst apart, furious flowers withered, and blazing flames rained down like blood!

“Fire arrows!!!”

On the cliffs on both sides, the firing squads were already waiting. Over a thousand mounted archers simultaneously drew and fired their bows.

A rain of arrows descended like meteor showers in the night sky, aimed directly at the giants’ furious flowers and eyes!

Snap—!

The sound of furious vines breaking echoed in unison, and crimson vine sap surged like a poisonous mist, obscuring tens of meters.

Giant after giant cried out in pain and fell to their knees, their steel knees smashing into the icefield, directly crushing the barbarian elite formations that had not yet managed to move behind them.

Berserkers were sent flying, magical beasts shrieked and wailed, and the once dense, tide-like barbarian front line instantly plunged into chaos!

They began to push, shove, and trample each other, trying to avoid the falling corpses of their comrades, only to be forced into deeper frenzy by the red mist of the furious flower domain!

Boom—!!

As the second batch of Magic Bombs detonated at the bottom of the valley, a large number of barbarian warriors and magical beast corpses were blown to pieces, fragments raining down.

However, this did not end the enemy’s madness; instead, the true horror had only just begun.

Those corpses began to move.

They split open, peeled away, and amidst the writhing blood and muscle, dark red vines grew wildly from within, coiling around bones, clinging to the ground, like snakes or tentacles.

Amidst the surging flesh, flesh-colored furious flowers bloomed, in clusters and patches, like a feast from hell unfolding in the snow.

What followed was a tide of blood mist.

“Cover your faces! Bite the medicine! Don’t look at the flowers!” The urgent roar of a messenger came from the allied forces.

The warriors almost reflexively took out cracked herb blocks from their chests, stuffed them into their mouths, chewed repeatedly, and then pulled down their face masks.

Bitterness spread, but it suppressed the hallucinations that had begun to appear in their minds.

These plants, called “furious flowers,” were releasing a red mist, polluting the mind, inciting anger, and provoking slaughter.

The allied forces were well-prepared; these soldiers were not facing the power of the Rage-Burning Thorns Garden for the first time.

Every combatant carried medicine made from calming herbs, which, though somewhat crude, was enough to temporarily sever their connection to the rage.

Roaring, burning, shrieking, the aura of death surged wildly through Bone Gorge.

Carefully placed Magic Bombs tore the earth, flesh and furious flowers exploded together, and in an instant, the entire valley floor seemed to be dyed a searing red hell.

“Hiss—!!!”

The corpses of barbarian warriors twitched in the flames, their abdominal cavities bursting open. Sharp, writhing tendril-thorns erupted from between their bones, igniting sparks of flesh and blood, like living fiery vine furnaces.

What followed was a suffocating crimson thick mist.

Furious Flower Pulse activated!

These flesh-flowers pulsed like beating hearts, waves of pulse spreading from the blood vine's center to all directions. All barbarian soldiers touched by the mist instantly had their pupils turn red, their muscles bulged, and they let out bestial roars.

Under the influence of the red mist, their anger continuously swelled, their muscles rapidly surged, their strength increased severalfold, their speed soared, their skin cracked, yet they felt no pain. Even those with severed arms dragged their bloody bones to continue charging, as if the entire army had transformed into enraged devils.

But just as the pulse spread, a dull explosion pierced the resonant rhythm of the rage.

“Throwing squad, fire!”

Blue-striped, short-stick-shaped objects arced gracefully through the air, accurately smashing into the center of the furious flowers.

“Cold Breath Hammer Bomb detonation!”

This batch of Cold Breath Hammer Bombs was not standard military equipment but was made from the Take Frost to Devour Soul Bomb recipe sent by Red Tide Lord Louis.

Unfortunately, there was no alchemy material repository like that of the Red Tide Territory here, nor an alchemy workshop capable of full replication, let alone enough time.

It lacked the precise strike of the Take Frost to Devour Soul Bomb, which could instantly freeze emotional nerves and directly shatter the rage core, but it was enough to cause interference and temporary paralysis, which was sufficient.

A pale blue-white airwave exploded at the core rage point. The barbarian soldiers, who were in a frenzy, seemed to be struck by lightning; their rage was suddenly cut off.

Some fell straight down, some stared blankly around, and others uncontrollably plunged their claws into the chests of nearby comrades, letting out blurred roars.

“Listen—Ah ah ah ah!!!”

The void after the emotional connection broke transformed into a more primitive chaos.

Groups of barbarian soldiers tore at each other where the furious flowers extinguished, turning on their own, and blood mist splashed back into the rear formations, causing more confusion and shock.

On the allied command platform, a deputy general’s Adam’s apple bobbed with excitement: “It hit! And the rage resonance was broken!! It works!”

“The Northern Territory must not be lost; life and death depend on this battle.” Seeing this, Edmund felt the time was right and gave the order.

With his command, the fifty thousand allied knights, like an awakened steel torrent, pressed forward in unison in three lines. Their war boots crushed the ice and snow, and the snowy ground let out a low moan, as if bones were cracking.

In {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the trap zone, fire oil ignited again, a line of fire snakes shot out, spewing flames like a dragon, isolating the gorge from the death zone.

In the dim world, it was suddenly dyed red by the light of the flames, reflecting countless enemy shadows.

Barbarian warriors wrapped in blood vines rushed forward, roaring like evil spirits crawling out of the abyss.

Magical beasts with bone spikes on their backs charged like angry thunder, crimson mist spewing from their cracked vine armor.

On the front line, a Frost Giants that had not yet fallen roared and swung its hammer, sweeping away a row of knights!

“Charge!!!”

The Silverfang Army was the first to break out, knights roaring as they charged towards the monster front line. The Broken Blade Army followed closely, infantry heavy shields pushing aside furious vines, short blades piercing twisted flesh, splashing crimson hot waves!

Flames, blood mist, snow, and roars mingled in the gorge, forming a roar from hell.

An old knight fought until his helmet was shattered and his armor cracked, yet he still swung his sword, cleaving open the skull of a skin-faced beast.

Another young mounted archer leaped onto the cliff wall, firing six arrows in quick succession, piercing the furious flower eye-cores of a giant!

But the enemy would not retreat.

Every barbarian warrior who died had their corpse split open, growing vines that entangled other fallen comrades.

Amidst the putrefying flesh, the ground began to writhe, vine walls quietly formed, crimson mist surged again, and the power of madness spread.

“Chew the herbs!”

Allied soldiers bit down on the bitter herbs in their mouths, resisting the mental corruption.

At the same time, Cold Breath Hammer Bombs flew out, accurately striking the furious flower cores, dispersing the red mist. Several barbarian armies instantly collapsed emotionally, turning to tear at their own, howling like mad dogs!

The battlefield changed in an instant, good and evil, reason and madness, collided fiercely.

This was the boundary line between life and death.

Bone Gorge, as its name suggested, would become the staining point of everything.

But at that moment, fifty thousand allied forces built an unyielding wall with their flesh and blood, attempting, with the knight’s oath, to hold back the monsters from the Abyss of Wrath beyond their final border.