Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

His name was originally John, a very common name.

He vaguely remembered living in a small village outside Grey Rock Fortress.

The house was drafty, his mother coughed severely, and his father died in a mine collapse that winter.

Later, during a famine, people in the village began sending their children to the "Garden of Mercy," saying they could at least get their fill there.

He was among the last batch to be sent in; at that time, his mother had only one breath left, telling him to be obedient and to live on well.

In that place, there was indeed good food and drink for a time; back then, he still believed that the people in white robes under the lamps were kind.

Until one day, he was pinned down on a metal table.

Cold instruments, restraint rings, needles piercing through his spine—his screams were stuffed back into his throat, like being submerged underwater.

Later, even the sound disappeared.

Sensation of pain was cut away, memory was hollowed out, and his name was erased. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Only a number remained: No. 2371.

His world was whittled down to just a few words: climb up, kill everything in the way, destroy—

Early this morning, he was pulled out of his cage, metal tubes were inserted into the interface between his sternum and collarbone, and as the medicinal fluid was pushed in, his entire body felt like it was ignited from within by burning coals.

A bottle of dark red potion, more turbid than any time before.

The tubes throbbed under his skin.

It was as if his blood was being infused with something foreign.

His heartbeat was forcibly accelerated, his stomach cramped, and his senses of smell and hearing turned into a chaotic mess.

This was merely a sample that had completed the final process.

The command buzzed in No. 2371's brain: climb up, climb up, climb up—

So he crawled onto the black-steel stone of the Imperial City's walls, his limbs splayed out in reverse joints, moving like a giant gecko with its vocal cords stripped away.

His nails embedded into the rock crevices, the "clack-clack" sound so faint it was almost inaudible.

No. 2371 caught the scent of blood—that smell made the mass of black mist in his chest grow restless.

A thin red mist seeped out from under his skin, surging along the blood vessels toward his limbs like a living thing.

That was a completely twisted blood-colored battle qi.

With every heartbeat, the red mist would expand half an inch around him, staining the shadows of the city wall crimson.

The muscles in his forearms tensed and deformed, and scale-like tissue could be seen trying to grow beneath his skin.

Like the remnant soul of some ancient dragon race, growling within his body.

The heat of the potion continued to burn upward.

A brief sense of emptiness would occasionally appear in his chest, like the moment a heart forgets to beat.

His breathing grew shallower, and his shoulders and back twitched slightly from time to time.

These were all manifestations of the "Final Dose."

With such a dosage, one could survive for two days at most.

But he did not understand this knowledge, nor did he need to.

He only needed to execute the command that Remont had personally ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) nailed into his consciousness.

Climb up.

Kill everything in the way.

Destroy.

So he continued to climb, his knuckles grinding sparks against the black-steel stone.

Suddenly, a scalding liquid was poured down from above.

Acid, Green Dragon saliva; under this substance, a normal human would turn into a pool of bloody water before they even had time to scream. Even the battle qi of an Elite Knight would be corroded by such acid.

However, No. 2371 did not move.

No, it could only be said that this level of attack could not even activate his surface-level instincts.

The acid landed on his shoulders and back, his skin letting out a piercing hiss.

But in the next instant, the hidden power within his body boiled as if provoked, and his bones creaked—

Under the coverage of the blood-colored battle qi, grayish-black keratinous scales grew wildly in a heartbeat, as if the shadow of an ancient dragon bloodline was awakening beneath his skin.

The scales not only hardened but also shimmered with a slight metallic reflection, like a second exoskeleton born for battle.

The acid was forcibly blocked at the surface the moment it made contact, leaving only faint white smoke where it fell.

When a scale was corroded, a new one immediately grew in its place.

Corroded again, grown again.

No. 2371 felt no pain; he was merely executing the command—keep climbing.

The light above the city wall suddenly brightened.

That was the sign of a magic circle being activated.

The golden lightning patterns of Divine Protection exploded above his head, and the lightning-like magic power scorched his scales, making a "sizzle-sizzle" sound like roasting meat.

Thunder pierced through his entire body from his spine; any other knight would have already had their breath disrupted, their five senses shattered, and even bled from their seven orifices.

But No. 2371 only paused for less than half a heartbeat.

His muscles and bones rapidly adapted and strengthened within the lightning, even beginning to memorize the current's path to further reduce the damage from the next bolt, but his movements did not stop.

He did not even know what pain was.

Where the scales were cracked by the lightning, new scales quickly bloomed, their hardness even greater than before.

Close.

The deployment node of the Divine Protection magic circle was right above, a silver magical tool embedded in the city wall, carved with complex patterns.

No. 2371 raised his palm; those were no longer called nails, but the prototype of dragon claws.

"Crack!" He snapped the metal clasp fixing the node.

He looked up and bit the exposed mana-conducting stone with his mouth.

His sharp fangs bit down deep, "Crack!" Magic power exploded in his mouth.

The deployment node was forcibly bitten off.

At that moment, the magic power of the surrounding nodes was completely paralyzed, as if a giant beast had bitten through their spines.

The mage on the wall was completely stunned: "A—A monster—!"

Just as his scream burst from his throat, No. 2371's vertical pupils had already looked up, locking onto his position.

The knights were originally just terrified of the group of Dragon-blooded Youthss climbing the walls, but that fear was soon swallowed by an even deeper tremor—

Because the darkness outside the city was being torn apart by new, more orderly sounds of iron hooves.

It was the sound of a knight legion marching in unison.

Thousands upon thousands—more and more armor reflected the faint light of the night, pressing toward the Imperial City walls like a tide.

An old knight stood behind an embrasure; though his eyesight was not as sharp as in his youth, the intuition honed on the battlefield was more accurate than any eagle eye.

—

He suddenly grabbed the arm of the knight beside him, his voice trembling: "Look—over there!"

The thick mist was blown away by the airflow displaced by the cavalry formation.

Below the city, a flag that was scorched, tattered, and mottled by fire, yet still majestic, unfurled in the wind.

A dark-gold dragon pattern, with dragon wings spread and dragon claws clutching an imperial longsword.

Only the personal army of the royal lineage was qualified to hang it.

A deathly silence instantly fell over the city wall.

That flag was personally held aloft by a tall knight.

He took off his helmet, revealing a face that every old knight in the Imperial City would never forget.

Years had carved deep lines into his face, yet his gaze remained as sharp as a blade's edge.

He roared, his voice piercing through the rain: "I am—Karien August!"

That name exploded on the city wall like thunder.

"Back when I was blocking the beast tide at the border! Many of you were standing behind me!"

He pointed to the dragon flag in his hand, his voice tearing through the air: "Now, for a few blood-stained gold coins given by that beast! You're going to shoot arrows at this flag?"

On the wall, a knight's fully drawn bowstring suddenly loosened, and the arrow flew off course, grazing the stone embrasure.

The vice commander of the Fifth Legion stood at a high point on the city wall, his armor elaborately decorated, the greed in his eyes brighter than the firelight.

He had taken the money from Rhine and received a death order, so he roared: "Don't listen to his nonsense! He is a traitor! I command you to shoot! Whoever kills him will be rewarded with ten thousand gold!!"

However, the rain of arrows—remained sparse.

Some knights merely hesitated, while some lowered their heads, not daring to look directly at that dragon flag, and still others had already quietly removed their arrows from the strings.

It was also during this brief hesitation.

The earth-shaking roar came from outside the city.

Over ten thousand border knights pressed upon the Imperial City like a tide!

The Dragon-blooded Youthss were climbing silently, while the true storm of steel pounced from the front.

"Charge!"

Kalian waved the dragon flag, his voice so heroic it seemed to be declaring war on the heavens.

His warhorse reared its hooves, neighing in the night.

Over ten thousand knights roared as they followed him in the charge, their battle qi igniting like fire in the darkness, illuminating every wavering face on the city wall.

The top of the wall had become a scene of chaos.

The first batch of Dragon-blooded Youthss to climb up had already vaulted over the wall's edge.

They moved extremely fast, as if catapulted up by silent strings, driven forward only by bone-chilling killing intent.

As soon as they landed, the blood-colored battle qi on their bodies exploded.

It was as if someone had suddenly splashed a bucket of fresh blood around them; the misty blood-qi swept through the air, making the throats of nearby knights tighten, leaving them unable to breathe as if being strangled.

These youths—were clearly not even fifteen or sixteen years old.

But their blood-colored battle qi was as thick as that of an Elite Knight who had experienced a hundred massacres.

Their appearance was more like something from a cursed abyss, with one side of their faces covered in grayish-black scales.

Their vertical pupils were lifeless, fine fangs were exposed at the corners of their mouths, and black runes vaguely pulsed under their skin.

All of this told the Imperial City knights that these were no longer human.

One knight reacted quickly, swinging his sword in a horizontal slash, cutting one of the charging youths across the waist.

But at the very moment the blade cut into his body, the youth actually grabbed the sword blade with his hand.

Scales flew from the sword's contact, and blood flowed down.

But he felt no pain, had no hesitation, and did not retreat.

Instead, using the fixed force of the blade embedded in his body, he took the opportunity to rush forward: "Ugh-ah—!"

His entire body pounced onto the knight's chest, and his fangs bit hard into the artery on the side of the knight's neck!

A pillar of blood erupted, drawing a horrifying arc in the air.

The knight's battle qi exploded in desperation, but it could not shake off this frenzied physical body.

Three nearby knights rushed forward simultaneously, but their movements were all a beat too slow.

The youth was like a hungry wolf, tearing out the knight's throat.

Fresh blood sprayed onto his face, which instead made his blood-colored battle qi even thicker.

"A—A monster!!" someone screamed.

Some retreated and knocked down their comrades, while more could not hold their weapons, their hands trembling.

Another Dragon-blooded Youths charged directly at a spear.

The spear tip pierced through his abdomen, but he did not stop for even a single step.

His intestines were churned, yet he slid along the spear shaft toward the knight, then grabbed the knight's helmet with his fingers and used force with both hands.

"Crack—!"

The knight's armor was pried open, and his head was twisted off.

A second later, he pulled out the spear stuck in his abdomen and swung it like a club, knocking a nearby knight clear off the city wall!

A rain of blood fell, and howls rose and fell.

As the torrent of monsters continued to surge, the psychological defense line of the Imperial City's defenders was instantly torn open with a huge gap.

"I didn't come here—to risk my life—"

"Don't come over!! Don't come over!!"

Some collapsed and threw away their weapons to flee, some knelt on the ground to pray, and some fell while retreating, only to be stepped on by their companions.

But the Dragon-blooded Youthss showed no expression of joy.

They were merely continuing to execute the implanted commands.

Upward, kill, destroy—becoming even more frenzied until they consumed the last of their life.

—

And the Imperial City walls, at this moment, truly began to disintegrate.

Taking advantage of the chaos on the wall, the prince's personal guards set up scaling ladders at the base of the wall, and the Second Prince was the first to jump onto a ladder with his sword.

An arrow grazed his cheek and pierced through his ear, but he didn't even blink.

Then, the commander of the Fifth Legion on the wall looked at the blood-soaked Second Prince, who was like a malevolent ghost, and didn't dare to look any longer, recalling the surge of passion he felt when charging behind the Second Prince at the border.

He also realized that the check given by the Fourth Prince could probably never be cashed anymore.

The storm howled on the city wall, and arrows flew wildly in the dark night and misty rain, but what truly shattered this section of the defense line was not the enemy's offensive, but the fear torn open within the defenders' own hearts.

A defending knight finally couldn't take it anymore.

He dropped his longsword and knelt heavily in the bloody water, tears sliding down along with the rain.

"Your Highness! We can surrender! Don't kill us—I've charged with you before!"

That voice was like the wail of a dying beast.

He thought the Second Prince would stop his pace and, as in the old days, pardon his sins, for he was after all just an ordinary knight caught up in the flow.

But the one who arrived was not the Second Prince.

Three Dragon-blooded Youthss landed in front of him without any warning.

Their movements were as light as shadows, yet they carried a nauseating power.

The concept of surrender did not exist for them; their world had only one directive—kill!

Before the knight could even let out a scream, the three Dragon-blooded Youthss pounced simultaneously; the sounds of nails, fangs, and crude tearing were exceptionally clear under the sound of the rain.

Flesh and blood exploded between the gaps in the armor, and shattered bone fragments splashed onto the stone bricks like scraps discarded at will.

His pupils dilated and rolled upward before death, his final gaze still seeking the Second Prince's pardon.

Kalian passed by his corpse without even a glance, his boot soles stepping on that heap of warm, bloody mud as he continued to climb upward as if walking up his own front steps.

The disciplinary squad drew their swords, trying to form a defense line, one of them roaring: "Stop them! Hold—"

Before they could finish their shout, Kalian had arrived.

His battle qi sword-light drew a silver line through the rain.

With a diagonal slash, the bodies of the three disciplinary knights were instantly split open, from the chest down to the abdomen.

Armor broke apart, blood splashed in the rain, and several pieces of corpses tumbled down the slope.

Kalian raised his broken sword tip, his voice cold and hard like iron pulled from a furnace: "Kill our way in."

His voice was not high, yet it drowned out all the wind and rain.

"Leave none alive!"

This sentence was like igniting gunpowder.

In the next instant, the Dragon-blooded Youthss, the border iron cavalry, and the defecting knights all pressed toward the gap like a flood.

The entire city defense line collapsed amidst a hum, the stone surface vibrating under the weight of the footsteps.

Scaling ladders were pushed against the walls, their metal hooks biting firmly into the embrasures.

Hundreds and thousands of knights began to climb, their iron armor constantly clashing, producing heavy thumping sounds.

Rainwater flowed down their armor plates, but it could not wash away the bloodlust and killing intent.