Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Twilight in the Buried Bone Canyon, snow and wind lashed at their faces like shattered iron, carrying the scent of blood.

Louis overlooked the battlefield from a high point in the canyon, his gaze sweeping over the purgatory where red and white snow intertwined.

Days ago, he had already known today's outcome through his Daily Intelligence System.

Duke Edmund would launch his final offensive here and fail.

Thus, he spared no expense, even leaving the Red Tide Territory's defenses open, and brought two hundred carefully selected Elite Knights. He traveled day and night without rest, to see if he could change the predetermined outcome, and indeed, he made it.

Of course, Louis was also well aware that even if all two hundred of these men were thrown into the fray, they would only be swallowed up faster.

But he brought more than just these two hundred Knights; he also brought weapons to counter the rage that the Northern Alliance Army lacked.

Each of these Knights wore anti-rage potions and Frostleaf Masks, whose formulas he had personally supervised, and carried high-purity Cold Breath Mist Cannisters on their backs.

They even carried a limited number of concentrated Frostleaf Explosive Bombs and Take Frost to Devour Soul Bombs, all of which were unique and powerful weapons that the Northern Alliance Army could not produce.

These were weapons Louis had invented based on intelligence provided by the Daily Intelligence System and continuously improved in combat, specifically designed for the Rage-Burning Thorns Garden.

Of course, upon reaching the battlefield, Louis did not immediately order an charge, as the battle was too large, and these weapons needed to be used at the most critical moment.

What could truly change the outcome was not a reckless death struggle, but breaking the enemy's spine at the peak of its strength.

So, all two hundred of his men hid in the shadows of the canyon, awaiting a signal.

Their existence was invisible to the Alliance Army.

To the enemy, it was an invisible long sword hanging over their heads.

The roar of the battlefield continuously echoed, and Louis could even see Duke Edmund leading his army to resist the Frost Giants and the beast hordes of Rage Thorns.

The Red Tide grew thicker, the air seemed to be soaked with burning blood, the warriors' roars became distorted, and even the clang of steel carried a hint of madness.

Finally, that moment arrived—

Titus, who had fallen from the giant's shoulder, erupted with a concentrated, rage-red mist.

Even Duke Edmund's figure was affected by the red mist, his body beginning to slightly sway as he knelt.

Louis's pupils suddenly contracted, and he raised his hand, waving it.

“All units, fire!”

Dull, continuous roars exploded in the valley, as concentrated Magic Bombs, like Frostleaf Vines, transformed into a silver-blue tide of mist, tearing a gap in the red mist.

The aura was cold and pungent, yet it could cut off the spiritual resonance of the Rage Flower like a blade.

At the same time, under Louis's gesture, two hundred Red Tide Elite Knights, like a crimson lightning bolt, split into the edge of the battlefield. The thundering hooves of their warhorses in the bloody mud stirred up a wind that cut through the Red Tide like a knife.

They did not engage the enemy head-on but maintained high-speed riding, forming a semicircular arc around the core of the battle, and occasionally launched light Take Frost to Devour Soul Bombs to prevent the approach of the vine monsters.

Everyone had special sprayers attached to their waists and both sides of their saddles, continuously releasing an ice-blue mist as they galloped.

That mist, carrying the bitter fragrance of cold breath and herbs, caused the Red Tide to dissipate as if crushed wherever it passed.

Knights, whose eyes had been red like beasts just moments ago, clutched their heads and wept, as if waking from a nightmare.

Knights, who had been in a frenzy, abruptly stopped their long blades, tears blurring their eyes as they gasped, their sanity slowly returning.

Of course, these were people who hadn't fallen too deeply; those barbarian Knights who were already gravely ill were beyond saving. The Red Tide Knights' route was extremely precise, avoiding the densest areas of combat while covering the widest possible range of the Red Tide.

Their galloping figures intertwined like weaving, as if using cold-blue threads on the battlefield to forcibly sever the madness that had been boiling.

On the other side, the Red Tide's cold-blue mist had just swept past Edmund's face, and his mind felt as if a basin of ice water had been poured over him.

The violent whispers were abruptly cut off, and his breathing became clear again.

He looked up through the swirling smoke and saw the Red Tide banner fluttering in the distance. That touch of red, in this world dyed red by the Rage Flower, made his heart tremble.

It was Louis!

But there was no time to think, Titus was right ahead.

Titus stood in the center of the battlefield, his entire being like a terrifying idol carved from blood vines and raging fire.

The Rage Flower bloomed on his spine and the crown of his head, its petals slowly trembling as if breathing.

Thick blood vines extended from his limbs, tearing his shattered armor into sharp vine blades, their cold light reflecting the dark red veins, writhing like living things.

His eye sockets were completely filled with the Rage Flower, devoid of any human emotion, driven only by the will of the Rage-Burning Thorns Garden.

At this moment, he was no longer Titus, but a weapon forged from rage, possessing the speed and strength of a High-Tier Peak Knight.

His movements were unsettlingly bizarre; each strike was not from the strength of his arms, but from several whip-like blood vines lashing out simultaneously, accompanied by the piercing shriek of tearing air.

Eight Extraordinary Knights and Duke Edmund formed an iron ring, yet they were forced to retreat step by step with each breath, as if being swallowed from all directions by a blizzard.

A shield-bearing Elite Knight of Cold Iron attempted to approach and seal his flank, his thick shield blocking the way like a city wall.

But the blood vines beneath Titus's feet suddenly exploded, their thorns piercing through the snow, throwing the Knight several feet into the air.

His heavy armor shattered mid-air, and upon landing, only a mixture of blood and snow remained.

Seeing this, Edmund roared, his massive hammer thundering towards Titus's head with the force of lightning.

Blood vines instantly intertwined ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ to form a domed vine shield, and the impact of the hammer strike caused the surrounding snow to collapse.

As the vine shield shattered, Titus backhanded a vine thorn, launching it like a javelin straight at Edmund's throat.

Edmund could only block with the hammer handle, his tiger's mouth aching with pain. Using the force to land, he immediately pressed forward from the left and right with two Extraordinary Knights.

The 'Flame Spirit Slash' on his left flank bloomed with scorching light at Titus's waist, carving charred cracks into the vine armor.

The 'Wind Fang Consecutive Slash' on his right flank cut open half of Titus's shoulder armor, splattering a liquid mixed with petals and flesh, and a strangely sweet scent filled the air.

Yet, he did not retreat, instead letting out a beast-like growl as the petals of the Rage Flower violently trembled, and a crimson shockwave erupted.

Three Knights were directly thrown to the ground, painful roars emanating from within their armor, as the Red Tide began to re-erode their sanity.

The eight-cavalry encirclement pressed in like a tide, yet they could never force him into a corner.

His movements were a combination of beast and hunting vine, irregular and unpredictable, his limits of strength and speed pushed to inhuman heights by the rage.

The blood vines beneath his feet were even more pervasive, as if trying to drag everyone who approached into a purgatory of vine flowers.

This battle was not like besieging a barbarian warrior, but rather a struggle for life against a sentient, murderous plant.

And just when everyone thought Titus's attention was firmly held by Edmund and the eight Extraordinary Knights...

He suddenly stopped his offensive at a certain moment.

Those hollow eye sockets, filled with the petals of the Rage Flower and glowing crimson, slowly turned towards a spot on the periphery—

It was precisely where Louis was located.

All the surrounding Knights were stunned. Without warning, and without any logic, this monster seemed to be driven by some mysterious will, directly locking onto the Red Tide Lord.

“What grudge do I have with you?!” Realizing that this monster was rapidly approaching, Louis couldn't help but blurt out, but his eyes were wide open.

Bloodline Talent: Trajectory activated!

A trajectory line extended from Titus's shoulder.

It traced his left-side spear-vine thrust, the twist of his waist, and the direction of his next sweeping attack, all forming in Louis's mind beforehand.

“Thrust left—then slash right!”

He instinctively yanked the reins, his warhorse whinnying as it sharply leaped to the right, while he suddenly ducked down.

“Bang!”

That steel-like vine thorn grazed his cheek, bringing with it a scorching mist of blood, and tearing a gash in the armor over his left ear.

Snowflakes and blood spatters fell simultaneously, coldness and burning pain invading his senses at the same moment.

Although he dodged the blow, his chest still felt stuffy from the aftershock, and his arms were numb.

The disparity in strength was too great; after expending so much effort, he had only barely managed to roll one step away from the Grim Reaper's scythe.

“That was close! Half a second slower and I'd be headless!”

Louis cursed inwardly, the chilling sensation in his chest from the fright not yet dissipated, forcing himself to suppress the chaotic pounding of his heart.

A head-on confrontation now would be suicide; the gap between him and a Peak-tier was an unbridgeable chasm.

He could only stall him, so he quickly chanted, instinctively casting his most familiar spell.

“Binding Spell!”

Silver-white rune light suddenly shot from his palm, like a binding chain wrapping around Titus's legs.

The vines stiffened for an instant.

“Fireball!”

A blazing orb of flame followed, exploding with a roar on the flank of the vine armor.

It didn't wound any flesh, but it was enough to force Titus's vine attack to pause for half a breath.

“Guard Formation!”

Lambert roared, and five Extraordinary Knights immediately closed in around Louis, the clash of steel and blood vines erupting.

He stood at the very front with his sword, sparks flying as his longsword struck, entangling with the blood vines that were comparable to steel whips, blocking the opponent's attacks at the edge of the death line with every step.

Louis retreated, clinging to the cover of his guards, regretting it to death in his heart.

“Why did I try to act tough? If I had just stayed on that hillside watching the show, I wouldn't be in this mess now—.”

Titus's Rage Flower pulsed faster and faster, the Red Tide swirling closer, like the throat of a giant beast, ready to swallow Louis and his guards whole.

Louis dodged like a fox, while continuously using magic to force the vines to change direction, barely maintaining this precarious path to survival.

Lambert gritted his teeth, holding his sword horizontally, the guard formation already on the verge of collapse.

Just as the blood vines coiled up from the ground, bringing with them a deadly intent.

“Louis! Fall back!” That was Duke Edmund’s voice, deep as thunder.

Accompanying the roar, eight blazing streaks of battle qi, like meteors, tore through the Red Tide.

The Extraordinary Knights of the Cold Iron Knight Order, in their blood-stained armor, came alongside the Duke.

The snow beneath their feet turned to steam from the high temperature and battle qi impact, their charge like a burning river of steel.

They pressed in simultaneously from both flanks and the front, flames, lightning, and ice intertwining to form a moving wall of death, forcibly carving out a breathing space between Titus and Louis.

Louis was roughly pulled out of the battle circle by Lambert. When he looked back, he saw fourteen Knights, like fate's last gamble, clashing head-on with that monster.

Each of Titus's strikes not only possessed strength beyond a Peak Knight but was also accompanied by blood vines shooting out from all directions, as if the entire battlefield was acting on his behalf.

As the vine thorns swept, armor shattered, and blood splattered, yet none of the Knights retreated. Instead, they burned their battle qi to the limit, even overdrawing their lives, in exchange for even a moment of weakness.

Flames scorched through the vine armor, lightning spears pierced the Rage Flower, and ice locked his joints.

The fourteen Knights, working together, pushed Titus deeper into the snow, forming a tightening vortex of death.

And Titus's movements gradually slowed.

The petals of the Rage Flower trembled in the strong wind, the color of the vines gradually darkened from blood-red, becoming withered and cracked, and the pulsation deep within the flower's core began to become erratic, like the last gasps of a drowning person.

Edmund stepped on a broken blood vine and leaped high, blue light surging over his massive hammer: “Die!!”

Boom!!!

The hammer strike heavily smashed into the twisted core on Titus’s chest—the Rage-Burning Thorns Garden.

The next moment, the Rage Flower violently burst, the vines turning to dust in the air, swallowed by the wind and snow.

Titus's body collapsed into the snow, no longer making any sound.

The battlefield fell into a brief silence.

As if some invisible tether had been severed, the blood flowers blooming on the giants' chests suddenly closed, withered, and the vines turned into a pile of ash, their massive, unsupported bodies crashing to the ground, shaking the snow.

Those barbarian soldiers whose roars had ceased also stiffened as if their souls had been extracted the moment the Rage Flower withered, then all fell into the snow, never to make a sound again.

The red glow in the eyes of the scattered magical beasts on the battlefield extinguished, as if their lives had been drained, and they collapsed heavily.

The Red Tide no longer churned, dispersing with the wind.

All the Knights understood that they had won.

The Northern Territory had also survived.

But at this moment, no one cheered.

The sound of loose longswords and warhammers was particularly crisp in the silent canyon.

They merely breathed heavily, their bodies like hollowed-out iron shells after their battle qi had burned out.

Some sat slumped in the snow, letting the ice and snow fall into the crevices of their armor, others held their already blunted longswords, staring blankly at the fallen enemy.

Still others looked up at the gray sky, their eyes as hollow as if they had aged decades.

The wind swept through the canyon, stirring up a swirl of withered vine dust, like a silent elegy.

This hard-won victory was not glory, but a price.

And in the heart of the battlefield, Louis's horse slowly came to a stop, but the next moment, he fell heavily.

“My Lord!”

“Louis!”

The exclamations of the Knights and Duke Edmund rang out almost simultaneously, and five Red Tide Knights quickly surrounded him.

Lambert didn't even sheathe his sword, directly dismounting, one hand supporting Louis's helmet, the other reaching for his neck.

He held his breath until he felt a steady, faint pulse, then slowly exhaled a plume of white mist.

“He's fine—just fainted, probably from the stress of battle and the exhaustion of the rush.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

On today's ledger of achievements, no one shone brighter than Louis; the 'clear mist' he brought had almost saved the core strength of the entire Northern Territory.

Everyone thought he was just exhausted and would wake up after a good rest.

Only Louis knew that a wisp of red mist, like a wisp of silk, had silently entered his mind.