Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Seventy-two hours after Fourth Prince Rhein ascended to the position of Regent, the air in the Imperial Capital was as taut as a fully drawn bowstring.

The torrential rain had yet to arrive, but the wind outside the west city walls was already kicking up dust.

From the distant mountain ranges came a vibration like war drums; the allied forces of Duke Remont and Second Prince Kalian were approaching.

Meanwhile, the west wall of the Imperial Capital had been completely sealed off.

All drawbridges were raised, the triple gates lowered, streets cleared, and the Imperial Guard and Censorate guards were on standby in full armor.

The entire city was like a giant beast huddling its massive body, waiting for the first bite to tear flesh.

Rhein stood atop the highest command tower of the west wall, a thick crimson carpet beneath his feet forming an absurd contrast with the muddy battlefield outside.

One hand held a teacup, the aroma of red tea appearing particularly out of place in the damp, cold air before the rain, while the other held a silver-plated telescope, looking down at the dense mass of the allied forces below.

The tower was crowded with civil officials and nobles from the Imperial Capital.

They all wore ceremonial light armor, and most of their faces couldn't help but turn pale upon seeing the scene outside the city.

Duke Simmons stood behind Rhein, gripping his cane with both hands.

His eyes were fixed on the churning shadows on the horizon: "Your Highness—that—it looks like more than just one army—"

Rhein turned his head and glanced at him, his tone so calm it was almost casual: "Duke, be calm."

He raised his hand to signal Simmons to look at the outer side of the city wall.

On the outside of the wall, a faint golden film of light shimmered, like a vibrating shield covering the entire city.

"Do you see it?" Rhein gently swirled his teacup. "This is the Imperial Capital's Holy Asylum Array; it burns two thousand gold coins every minute.

The array is maintained by fifty-seven Court Archmages. Their fees and the cost of the mana crystals are borne by me personally. Lately, even mana crystals have gone up in price."

Simmons swallowed hard. "Your—Your Highness, spending so much money, is it really—"

"Of course it's worth it." Rhein interrupted him, continuing to look outside. "Unless the allied forces have the Hammer of the Gods, they can forget about cracking this layer today."

He raised his hand to signal an official to open an observation port.

On the wall, rows of newly installed heavy crossbows and curved giant shields glinted with metallic light.

Gears and chains were connected to large catapults, and the stones were engraved with magic runes, making them three times heavier than ordinary rocks—

Rhein said flatly, "Every weapon is more expensive than one of Remont's old-fashioned lances by an entire barony."

Then he looked toward another part of the city.

"The Fifth Knight Regiment is stationed in the inner city," Rhein said softly. "The Eleventh Knight Regiment guards the walls. The Eighth Knight Regiment is arrayed on both sides of the Royal Road."

Rhein continued, "These three regiments total seven thousand men, the most elite knights in the Empire. They didn't have a good impression of me originally, but after hearing about my reward system—they've become surprisingly loyal."

The nobles in the tower visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Simmons bowed his head and spoke respectfully, "Your Highness—how exactly did you make these knights so wholeheartedly convinced?

As expected—only you could achieve this."

This flattery had a sycophantic curve to it, clearly unnatural, yet it suited Rhein's mood perfectly.

Rhein's fingertip tapped the side of the cup as if he were savoring the taste of being acknowledged.

"It's simple." He raised his cup in a toast, his gaze calm yet sharp. "I told them that with me, loyalty can be sold for money."

As he said this, the nobles in the tower nodded one after another, smiles piling up on their lips as if they had just heard some brilliant political wisdom.

The air was filled with echoing compliments, yet it somehow made the atmosphere even more stifling.

Through the telescope, the dense mass of the allied forces was trying to adjust their formation before the storm, like a giant beast ready to pounce.

Rhein slowly closed the telescope tube, his tone as light as casual conversation. "They look strong."

"But to take this city—" He looked up at the light of the golden array shimmering in the sky, his voice low and certain. "It would likely take several months. However, in less than half a month, other Knight Regiments stationed outside will arrive as reinforcements. We only need to hold out. Besides, the Imperial Capital is the strongest fortress in the entire Empire."

He took a small sip of his red tea.

"Rest assured, Simmons." Rhein smiled. "The Imperial Capital cannot be breached. At least, not today."

No sooner had he spoken than the shadows outside the west wall began to churn. The sound of war drums beat heavily through the rain, as if some gargantuan beast was being awakened.

The nobles held their breath and leaned out to look beyond the city.

Rhein raised his telescope again. Reflected in the lenses was a legion breaking away from the allied formation, marching through the mud toward the Imperial Capital.

He gave a light scoff. "Remont is finally willing to make a move?"

Kalen stepped closer, his brow furrowing slightly. "It's the Tenth Border Legion, Your Highness. They seem to be testing the city's defenses."

"Fodder." Rhein spat out the word coldly, his tone teasing yet carrying a hint of anger toward the rebellion. "These border curs, instead of guarding the borders, dare to come to the Imperial Capital to revolt."

The nobles in the tower immediately nodded in agreement.

"Your Highness is absolutely right!"

"Those boors aren't even qualified to set foot in the Imperial Capital!"

Rhein listened with satisfaction, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.

"I don't need to give the order." He set down the telescope and swirled his teacup. "The defense system is already prepared."

In the next instant, a dull roar like thunder came from below the wall, as if the entire Imperial Capital was breathing.

The faint golden film of light suddenly brightened, so blinding it seemed to split the night open.

Dense thunder patterns emerged on the shield's surface, each one flashing with violent electrical light, like a swarm of golden snakes clinging to the city wall.

Over twenty Archmages stood at the array's nodes, their robes fluttering in the wind.

Their hands were pressed against mana-conducting stones as mana flowed like molten steel along the magic lines, pouring into the shield and making the air vibrate.

A noble couldn't help but cry out, "Holy Asylum—it's starting!"

The air outside the shield was churned by high-pressure mana, and the thunderclaps merged into a single line, like heavenly thunder guarding the Imperial Capital.

That layer of mana was compressed into what seemed like an invisible wall; anyone who approached would have their battle qi thrown into chaos by the vibrations.

Once any knight stepped within thirty paces of the shield, the outer membrane would begin to vibrate violently, causing their breath to falter and their vision to black out, as if they were being knocked down by the roar of a giant beast, making it impossible to approach.

At the same time, the mechanisms on both sides of the city gate were activated, heavy chains coiling with the sound of clashing metal and sparks flying.

Then, rolling down from the battlements were stones compressed and stabilized by alchemy: Rock-Burst Stones.

Their surfaces were engraved with swirling magic runes, and their interiors contained concussive explosive potions.

They were specifically designed to deal with knights protected by battle qi; while ordinary stones couldn't penetrate battle qi, these alchemical stones would explode upon impact into hundreds of sharp fragments imbued with mana vibrations.

The sound of breaking wind was like a pack of hungry wolves pouncing, tearing the first wave of knights who tried to approach into a bloody mist, with shattered armor and severed limbs flying through the mud.

However, their drawback was that they were extremely clumsy and expensive, but on these walls, that hardly counted as a disadvantage.

As for what was poured from the battlements, it wasn't common boiling oil, which was almost meaningless against battle qi knights.

What splashed down was a dark green, resin-thick alchemical solution: Green Dragon Saliva.

"This stuff—a few barrels could buy a castle—" a young noble's voice trembled.

When the green liquid hit a knight's battle qi membrane, it immediately caused the battle qi to emit a piercing screech, as if being eaten alive. In the next breath, the green solution penetrated the protective film and invaded the armor; the metal melted as if licked by flames, and skin and flesh rotted and slid off.

The knights fell to the ground screaming, rolling in the mud, but unable to find any escape from the corrosion.

Before the shield, the once-charging front line collapsed within a few breaths.

With their battle qi countered and their armor corroded, the knights of the Tenth Border Legion were like they had crashed into a breathing slaughter machine.

After several rounds of testing, the ground was already covered in churning mud and blood.

Hundreds of knight corpses lay before the shield, layered like harvested stalks of wheat.

Finally, they blew the retreat horn amidst the chaos.

In the rain, rows of shadows retreated awkwardly, pushed and dragged by their own comrades.

The retreating figures stumbled through the rain, as if being chased and torn by some invisible terror.

A thunderous cheer erupted from the walls.

Seeing the enemy's pathetic state, the nobles laughed out loud, and some even excitedly raised their cups in celebration.

Rhein merely took a small sip of tea, his expression as composed as if he were enjoying an opera.

"War—at its core, it's a business." He raised his cup slightly so Simmons could see the pleasure in his eyes. "As long as the investment is large enough, it's hard to lose."

With a wave of his hand, the messenger immediately left to carry out the order: "Tonight, send roasted meat and ale to all the regiments; let them eat their fill. Tell them they'll continue killing beggars tomorrow."

As night fell, Rhein fulfilled his promise. Large bonfires were lit on the walls, making the entire defensive line as bright as a festival.

Carts brought up whole roasted oxen, their fat sizzling in the firelight.

Barrels of chilled ale were opened, and the knights ate meat in large gulps and played loud drinking games, as if they weren't defending a city but were out on an excursion.

Even more enticing were the gold coins handed out to them; everyone received a large sum, making the knights overjoyed.

Rhein stood at the highest point of the firelight, looking down at it all.

He was in no hurry. As long as the walls weren't breached and the array didn't stop, he could hold out for three days, five days, ten days—until the other legions around the Imperial Capital came to the rescue.

"Let them try." His voice was as light as the wind, yet it carried over the sound of the bonfires.

"The Imperial Capital isn't that easy to invade."

Outside the Imperial Capital, the night rain was heavy, but inside the main tent, it was as hot as if a fire were burning in the shadows.

The candlelight flickered in the draft, shadows twisting into uneasy shapes on the canvas walls.

Second Prince Kalian sat by a chest, knees apart, slowly wiping his sword with a cloth.

The blade reflected the candlelight, cold ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) and straight, like his suppressed emotions at this moment.

His movements were steady, but a hint of disappointment was hidden deep in his eyes—not over the defeat, but for the city that should have belonged to the majesty of the imperial family, now armed by Rhein with money and arrays like a steel prison.

——————

The adjutant lifted the curtain and entered, his voice low: "Your Highness—the Holy Asylum Array is currently unsolvable. The Eleventh Legion—lost three hundred and thirty-one knights."

Kalian stopped wiping his sword and let out a soft breath. "I understand."

He placed his sword on his knees and looked up to ask, "Has the letter been delivered?"

The adjutant immediately straightened his posture. "It has been delivered, Your Highness."

Kalian nodded but didn't ask further. Just as he was about to speak, a guard's announcement came from outside the tent.

"Your Highness! Duke Remont requests an audience!"

Kalian's brow twitched slightly; his expression tightened at first, then softened into a smile.

"Let him in."

Duke Remont lifted the curtain and entered, rain dripping from his cloak.

He glanced at Kalian's face, a flash of insight crossing his eyes—it wasn't fear of battle, but impatience with the stalemate.

Remont bowed. "Your Highness, conventional siege methods are indeed useless. Rhein has turned the Imperial Capital into a prison. Without a key—no one can get in."

Kalian sighed. "We don't have a key."

The corners of Remont's mouth slowly rose. "I have one."

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

A knight pushed in a heavy iron cage, the iron wheels leaving wet tracks on the ground.

The cage was covered with a black cloth, and something could be seen moving slightly inside.

Kalian frowned. "This is?"

Remont stepped forward and reached out to pull off the black cloth.

The moment the black cloth hit the ground, Kalian instinctively took a step back.

Kalian whispered, "What—what on earth is this thing?"

Remont showed a satisfied smile.

"This is the battering ram I've prepared for you."

He took an iron key from his bosom and handed it to Kalian, his tone respectful yet carrying a seductive power:

"

It's for you to decide: to use it, or not."

The tent fell silent for a moment.

The sound of rain drumming on the tent was like countless erratic heartbeats.

Kalian looked down at his right hand, which had once been broken.

After a long while, he said softly, "This is war."

He raised that hand and gripped the key. "The guilt—I will bear it."

On the late-night city walls, alchemical candles were lit in rows along the battlements. Their flames, tinged with pale blue, could dispel the dampness but couldn't scatter the thick, impenetrable darkness outside.

Rain and mist swirled in the distance, like the breath of some gargantuan creature.

A knight leaned against a battlement, his armor open, boredly flipping the gold coin he had been given the night before.

——————

The gold coin bounced between his fingers, and when caught by the moonlight, it flashed as if it were alive.

"Want to make a bet?" he said to the knights beside him. "Will a wave come tonight? If they do, this gold coin is yours."

"His Highness has let us eat and drink our fill. If they dare come, they must be tired of living," someone yawned.

Just as they were talking nonsense, a slight movement came from below the wall.

It was a dense, faint, teeth-gritting rustling sound.

The knight captain frowned and leaned over to look down. "What the hell—?"

The thick fog was pulled aside by the wind for an instant, and in that moment, he saw it clearly.

Densely packed, pale bodies.

Thousands of bare-chested Dragon-blooded Youths were clinging to the wall. Their backs were bent as if broken, and their limbs were twisted at unnatural angles. Their movements were eerie and swift.

Their fingernails, like animal claws, dug deep into the cracks of the black steel stones; every time they exerted force, the stones would emit a faint cracking sound.

They slithered upward silently.

Like an entire sheet of living wall skin—crawling up.

The moonlight shone on their eyes; they weren't human eyes but eerie vertical pupils, blank and cold, as if staring at prey.

Every one of them held a short dagger in their mouth, making not a single sound.

The gold coin the knight had been playing with fell to his feet with a "ding."

His throat felt as if it were blocked, and he only managed to squeeze out, "What—what on earth are these things?"

The knight captain suddenly reacted and slammed his hand against the battlement. "Quick! Go get reinforcements!"

But below the wall, that pale wave of flesh had already climbed halfway up.

Silent, swift, and lethal.