Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Lambert's cloak flapped in the wind, his visor covered in ash. He said in a low voice, "Finish up. Leave a few alive, and clean up the rest."

The Red Tide Knights launched a bloody suppression.

Near dawn, a sliver of white appeared on the horizon, and the Knight Regiment stationed outside the city, along with the logistics team, arrived one after another.

The crowd stopped amidst the ruins, the air filled with the nauseating smell of char and grease.

They looked at the scene before them: charred courtyards, collapsed statues, metal twisted by the flames, and snow-covered ground soaked with blood. The entire manor seemed to have been engulfed by hellfire.

A young soldier's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice trembling: "What... what happened here?"

The Red Tide Knights were now using their lances to neatly pick up the remaining corpses. Occasionally, a dying roar from a barbarian would be heard, quickly silenced by a finishing blow.

In the end, Red Tide only left a few captives who appeared to be of significant status.

The barbarian leader Wulu, bound by iron chains, and his two adjutants were spared; all other barbarians were executed.

After the casualty count was completed, Lambert stepped forward and knelt before Louis, saluting:

"My Lord, the count is complete. The noble faction suffered heavy casualties. Of the more than thirty nobles who attended the meeting, nearly half were affected, and seventy-five knights died.

Three nobles died within the manor, and two were shot by arrows while fleeing. The most prominent noble among them was Viscount Bolton, and Sixth Prince Asta... has also been confirmed dead."

Louis was slightly stunned by the news, his brows furrowed, clearly surprised.

His original plan was to use this attack to place the Prince under house arrest, forcing him to fully submit.

He hadn't expected Asta to die so easily; he truly had no ambition.

Louis was silent for a moment, deducing the chain reactions that Asta's death could cause. Slowly, his expression became calm, and a cold thought flashed through his mind.

If he's dead, he's dead. The goal is achieved, the effect is the same, and the impact is limited.

The Princes in the Imperial Capital were vying with each other and would certainly not bother with this matter. Asta's death might only provide fodder for a brief banquet conversation; no one would send people to investigate.

As for the Northern Territory, Louis didn't believe anyone else would dare to interfere with this matter.

Louis's gaze swept over the ruins, the blood-red morning light reflected in his eyes, as if he was calculating what to do next.

"However... the show must still go on," Louis said softly. "Since the Sixth Prince is dead, there must be an explanation."

He turned to Lambert and said flatly, "Gather all the uninjured nobles. We need to hold a meeting to conclude this attack."

Lambert nodded in response: "Yes, My Lord."

He turned and left, beginning to instruct the knights to gather the nobles.

The flames reflected on Louis's profile, his expression as cold as ice; no one knew what he was thinking... At dawn, the blood mist had not yet dissipated, and the smell of tar mixed with the stench of corpses, like an unfinished nightmare.

At this moment, a clean area had been temporarily cleared in the Frost Dragon Territory manor, with incomplete corpses still piled around.

The Red Tide Knights stood in a circle, blood on their armor not yet wiped away, creating an unusual aura of 肅殺. The air was so oppressive it seemed to solidify.

The nobles stood in a circle, their clothes disheveled and their expressions terrified. Several young noblewomen were protected at the back, their tear stains not yet dry. But they were relatively well off; several nobles had inexplicably died in the attack.

"Who dares to attack a Prince's meeting?!" an old noble's voice trembled.

"This isn't a rebellion... this is outright murder!" another roared, but his voice sounded so powerless in the empty ruins.

The crowd chattered noisily about the events of yesterday.

Just then, Louis slowly ascended the fire-scorched steps, without a sword, simply standing with his hands behind his back.

"Gentlemen, last night's tragedy not only caused bloodshed in the Northern Territory but also shamed the Empire! We must find the culprit! Without help, these barbarians could not have entered so easily!"

Louis's tone was sorrowful, yet subtly sharp.

He scanned the surroundings, and wherever his gaze fell, no one dared to meet his eyes: "If we don't find the true culprit, all of us will become the Empire's laughingstock! Nor can we avenge our friends!"

The nobles all echoed Louis's words.

"It must be investigated thoroughly!" Yoen was the first to shout excitedly, having also been greatly frightened last night. "My Lord is absolutely right! Such a despicable conspiracy must be investigated to the bottom!"

"Someone is playing a trick!"

"Must be punished!"

Voices rose and fell, many nodding in agreement, seemingly ignited by Louis's words.

But beneath the fervent response, undercurrents stirred, and their unease grew, fearing they would be drawn into a conspiracy.

Some nobles' eyes flickered, whispering [N O V E L I G H T] questions to each other, while others frowned, sensing that the atmosphere was wrong.

Several older lords coughed twice but said nothing more.

The sounds of discussion spread like a turbulent flow.

Just as the clamor reached its peak, Louis merely raised his hand lightly and pressed it down slightly.

The movement was small, yet it was like an invisible pressure descending.

The talking instantly ceased, and the lords lowered their heads, silently uneasy.

The surrounding chaos and the current order formed a stark contrast.

Although Louis was merely an invited guest, he had silently taken control of the order here.

The ruins of the manor beneath his feet seemed to have become Red Tide's territory.

And the nobles and knights of Frost Dragon Territory had subconsciously come to believe that he should preside over the overall situation.

Just then, Lambert hurried to Louis, his voice deliberately amplified: "This is an item found on the body of His Royal Highness, Sixth Prince Asta."

He held up a blood-stained wooden stick high, displaying it before everyone.

The surface of this wooden stick was carved with a barbarian blood oath pattern, a sacred object that only allies could possess.

The nobles looked at each other, and murmurs quickly spread: "This is a barbarian sacred object... how could it be on His Highness?"

"Could it be that..."

"This is impossible! How could the Sixth Prince..."

Louis remained silent, merely glancing indifferently at Camille, who stood in the corner.

That glance sent a cold sweat down Camille's spine.

He immediately recalled the secret letter that had appeared on his bed a few days ago: "When chaos descends, identify Asta, Holmes, Cran, Bolton, Harlov, Hyman."

Camille's breathing quickened, his heart pounding like a drum. At the time, he didn't understand why, but now he finally knew that this game had been set up from the very beginning.

Had Louis already calculated this far? How terrifying.

And he also knew that if he wanted to live, he had no choice.

A moment later, Camille steeled himself and with difficulty raised his hand, his voice trembling: "I... I have a clue. His Highness Asta once hinted to me.

He allied with Holmes, Cran, Bolton, Harlov, Hyman, and several other noble families, and also contacted the barbarians... planning to control the reconstruction meeting and asked me to facilitate things for him at the Imperial Capital's Censorate. At the time... I was forced to temporarily agree. Could this be related to this matter?"

Although his acting was a bit abrupt, everyone's attention was focused on the few nobles who were still alive.

The few men looked at each other, their expressions stiff.

Holmes forced a smile and said, "I... I don't even know His Highness's attendants. If there was any contact, it was merely a matter of courtesy!"

Cran added, his face pale: "We are also victims of this attack! All my knights are dead!"

Harlov and Hyman nodded repeatedly, muttering: "We have nothing to do with the barbarians, never..."

Their voices rose and fell, filled with panic, their words becoming more fragmented, not even believing themselves.

Their defensive words were torn apart by the cold wind in the empty ruins, appearing exceptionally powerless.

Louis coldly scanned them: "If truly innocent, then how about proving your innocence, gentlemen? Go search and see if there are any clues."

The faces of the four men turned pale, wanting to say something but unable to utter a sound.

Lambert had already led several Red Tide Knights forward, ordered to search their residences.

And they could only lower their heads, unable to refuse.

Just then, chains clanged, and Wulu was brought up, his face pale, his steps faltering.

He knew his wife and daughters were in the hands of Red Tide, and now the barbarians' hope was completely shattered. All he could do was confess everything to secure their safety.

Louis spoke indifferently: "Speak, who gave you the orders?"

Wulu looked up, glancing at the young lord, a look that reminded him of a wolf king on the snowy plains.

He lowered his head, his voice hoarse, confessing everything in detail: "It was His Royal Highness, the Sixth Prince... He ordered us to use barbarian strength to disrupt Red Tide, saying that as long as we created chaos, we would gain grazing rights, food, and salt and iron.

But knowing that all the important nobles of the Northern Territory were gathered here, we decided to turn the tables and planned to attack Frost Dragon Territory during the meeting."

The nobles instantly erupted in an uproar, discussions echoing through the ruins, though not as noisy as before.

Some gasped, while others whispered: If all this was truly related to the Prince, then there was no further explanation.

Several older nobles frowned, their tone tentative: "Perhaps it's a trick by those barbarians... dragging His Highness into it to cause infighting."

But there was still a hint of oppressive unease in the air, and some secretly exchanged glances.

This was Asta's territory, and the barbarians arrived too coincidentally. To say there was no connection at all, even they themselves wouldn't believe it.

Others had different thoughts: Could this matter actually be related to this Red Tide Earl? But no one dared to voice it.

Louis frowned slightly and said, "Don't speak nonsense! How could His Highness, a member of the imperial bloodline, do such a thing?"

Wulu struggled to look up, blood at the corner of his mouth: "I have proof."

Before long, he was led away and soon brought back.

Behind him, several Red Tide Knights carried a heavy iron chest.

Inside were neatly arranged a Frost Dragon Territory special envoy badge, a parchment scroll of oath, a food and salt allocation order, a hand-drawn map of Frost Dragon Territory, several signed documents, and two contract letters.

Lambert knelt on one knee and reported: "All were found in the barbarian hiding place."

Everyone's gaze focused on the badge. The Frost Dragon Territory special envoy badge was a token specially granted by Asta; its holder could represent Frost Dragon Territory in issuing official orders.

The back of the badge was engraved with His Highness Asta's mark, not appearing to be a forgery.

Another contract, with a barbarian totem as its preamble, stated the terms of the oath between the two parties: "By the blood of our ancestors, we swear that all who sign this document shall share honor and disgrace with their allies. Should this oath be broken, the clan shall be destroyed and the name erased."

At the bottom were Asta's signature and the Frost Dragon Territory seal.

Another scroll read: "Imperial Sixth Prince Asta August promises: After the Northern Territory Council, the barbarians may obtain grazing rights north of the Frost Dragon River.

If they assist in creating the Red Tide rebellion, they shall receive winter provisions, salt and iron, and permission to settle." Signed Asta August.

Everyone froze upon seeing these ironclad proofs, looking at each other, their eyes filled with fear and suspicion.

Asta's signature, the Frost Dragon Territory badge, the blood fingerprints on the contract—each was like a heavy hammer striking their hearts.

"If it were truly a forgery, why are the seals so complete?"

"How would barbarians know these document formats..."

Discussions rose and fell, the air permeated with the smell of char and blood, mixed with an indescribable emotion.

At this moment, they believed it seven or eight tenths.

Someone secretly looked at Louis, but saw the young Earl's calm expression, his gaze sweeping indifferently across the crowd, as if everything was under control.

However, Lambert's voice broke the silence again: "There are also two surviving assimilated barbarians, Frostfang and Nack, who are willing to testify."

The two were brought forward, their faces ashen, wearing tattered guard cloaks.

Lambert said in a deep voice: "They were originally barbarians, later incorporated into the guard by knights under His Royal Highness, the Sixth Prince. On the night of the attack, it was they who personally opened the secret northern passage."

These words were like a huge stone thrown, causing a stir.

The nobles all turned to look at the two barbarians, their eyes filled with disbelief and disgust.

Frostfang trembled all over, his hands bound by iron chains, his knees barely holding him up.

He lowered his head, his lips trembling, almost inaudible: "We... we acted on orders... the orders came from His Royal Highness, the Prince..."

Mid-sentence, a flicker of fear crossed his eyes, and he couldn't continue.

Nack's situation was worse; his face was still streaked with blood, his eyes bloodshot, and he was practically being pushed to stand.

He stammered, trembling, adding: "It... it was His Highness who gave us the badge and token... to let us... assist the barbarians in entering the city."

After speaking, he collapsed heavily to the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold stone bricks, sweat and tears mixing as they fell.

Their voices were pitifully weak in the silent ruins, yet they were like two nails, one by one, driven into everyone's hearts.

The nobles exchanged glances, and under the lingering glow of the flames, everyone's expressions were complex, belief and disbelief intertwined on each face, even the air seemed to solidify.

Soon after, Lambert's search knights returned, presenting several letters found in the nobles' residences.

The thick wax seals clearly read: Holmes, Cran, Bolton, Harlov, Hyman.

The letters detailed the seating arrangements for the meeting, the speaking order, the knight deployments, and the manipulation of public opinion against Red Tide, also including a sentence: "If Red Tide is attacked, it is the will of heaven. Seize power while the opportunity arises."