Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

Under the cover of night, Bond and Louis crouched behind a high slope shrouded by dense forest, below which lay a temporarily erected ruin.

The knights were hidden on either side of the slope, and the archers were already in position.

But at this moment, Bond was uneasy.

He looked at the silent mountain path and lowered his voice, “Baron, I advise you to stop.”

Louis didn't respond, merely continuing to observe the terrain and confirm the scouts' reports.

Bond frowned and continued, “We are not sure if the enemy passed through this mountain path, nor do we know when they will arrive.

Even if they do come, can your hundred-plus knights, even if the ambush succeeds, stop eight hundred Snowsworn elites?

If this battle is lost, not only will the entire army be annihilated, but we will also hand over Qingyu Ridge, the most crucial choke point.”

His voice was low, but his tone already carried a hint of urgency: “We should return to defend the fortifications, hold the pass, and wait for the reinforcements sent by the Duke.”

“Stop talking,” Louis finally spoke, his tone not light, but extremely steady, “I am the commander.”

Bond was startled.

That tone held no anger, not even an emphasis on authority; it was merely a statement of fact.

Yet, it left no room for rebuttal.

“You...” Bond wanted to say something but ultimately gritted his teeth and fell silent.

He silently watched this young man, much younger than himself, feeling a sense of helplessness and frustration.

“He’s gotten carried away. A young noble, after winning a few battles, thinks he can take on eight hundred elites?

He will bury this entire unit in this wilderness.”

Bond even entertained a crazy thought: kill him and take over command.

But he quickly dismissed the idea.

These soldiers and knights already viewed Louis as their faith; if he acted rashly, his only outcome would be death.

So Bond could only grit his teeth, staring blankly at the bottom of the mountain path.

A subtle, almost imperceptible sound came from the forest path below.

Following that was a continuous patter of hooves, the friction of metal, and the soft rustle of leather armor.

Bond’s entire body tensed, his pupils contracting sharply.

“They... they really came?”

He suddenly looked at Louis, his heart a mix of shock and an inexplicable chill.

“He had anticipated this all along?”

He suddenly realized that this young noble, perhaps, had held a complete grasp of the situation from beginning to end.

... ... ... ...

A cold wind blew down from the ridge, kicking up dust from the ground.

Eight hundred Snowsworn elites rapidly advanced along the rugged mountain path.

They were mostly Wolf Riders or Snowsworn Knights, their purpose being to reclaim the stronghold of Qingyu Ridge as quickly as possible.

“Just a small group of two hundred knights, is it really necessary to make such a fuss?”

Garrett rode his black-silver war wolf, a hint of weariness on his face.

He was one of the few veterans among the Snowsworn; three extermination campaigns hadn't buried him, but instead had turned him into a warrior who crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

He had originally hoped to rest a bit in Snow Eagle City.

To enjoy those noblewomen with their fair skin, to satisfy his cravings.

But as soon as the order arrived, he was urgently dispatched to the front.

“Tsk, truly rotten luck,” he muttered, pulling on the ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) reins, and the war wolf bared its fangs, quickly stepping forward.

He wasn't the only one displeased with the order.

Throughout the vanguard, a restless mood quickly spread.

The young Snowsworn Knights were all impatient, only wanting a quick victory so they could return to Snow Eagle City to enjoy the spoils of war.

“Just a mountain pass, guarded by two hundred men, making it seem like we’re attacking the imperial capital,” one knight grumbled, clicking his tongue.

“Exactly, a waste of time.”

“Sir, we’re almost there,” the adjutant prompted.

Garrett raised a hand to signal a slowdown, his eyes fixed on the other side of the valley.

A charred ruin lay silently in the valley.

Tent frames lay twisted on the ground, battle flags were broken, and frozen, hardened animal hides were ruffled by the wind.

“That’s the spot,” he murmured, a cold sneer playing on his lips.

The scene looked exactly like a phantom conjured by the Hidden Mist Mirror.

Garrett had personally used such things many times.

“It looks real from a distance, but get within dozens of meters, and you can spot the flaws,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “Do they think they can fool us with this thing?”

He waved his hand, coldly ordering, “Accelerate! Encircle them from both sides, and before they can react, swallow this nest of rats whole!”

“Yes!”

The Wolf Riders roared in unison, their war wolves leaping forward.

Eight hundred Snowsworn cavalry split into two wings, and with the heavy thud of hooves on the snow, they surged like a cold current towards the ruined camp.

The vanguard had entered the valley mouth, the rear wing followed closely, their formation spreading out into a “semi-encirclement.”

They believed it would only take a few minutes to engulf that ruin in a bloody storm.

They were now less than a hundred meters from the ruins.

In the wind and snow, those broken tents, twisted wooden stakes, and charred earth suddenly... felt too real.

“...No.”

Garrett yanked on his reins, his gaze suddenly sharp, his brow instantly furrowing.

This was not a phantom!

This was not a mere illusion from the Hidden Mist Mirror, but a real ruin.

A genuinely and deliberately arranged trap, carefully disguised as an illusion!

They had fallen for it!

But that instant of realization was already too late!

At that moment, Louis, standing in the shadows of the mountain wall, slowly raised his right hand.

“One, two, three,” he gently waved his hand down, “Detonate.”

The next second, the air seemed to be instantly sucked out.

Boom—!!!

The roar was like a bellow from the depths of hell, tearing apart the silence of Qingyu Ridge.

The Magic Bombs buried in the mountain’s belly detonated in a chain reaction, unleashing a monstrous gale and raging flames!

The Wolf Rider contingent in the canyon was swallowed before they could even react.

First, a dazzling blue light flashed suddenly!

Extreme cold currents swept like blades, instantly freezing the air.

Dozens of riders in the front row, without even a cry of agony, were frozen in their charging postures, knights and war wolves alike becoming twisted ice sculptures, instantly dragged by suction into the center of the explosion!

Following that, the magma essence ignited!

The blue frost transformed into raging fire, and rolling waves of flame surged out like a tornado, engulfing large numbers of warriors.

Blazing flames and explosive air currents surged wildly within the valley, tearing open fiery red cracks along the snow surface.

War wolf fur ignited, knight armor charred and burst, one by one they rolled on the ground, roaring, turning into fireballs consumed by the inferno.

“Awooo—!!”

The scorched war wolves shrieked and fell, their limbs flailing, their flesh turning to charcoal in the flames!

In the final wave, corrosive poisonous mist rose.

The black mist was neither fast nor slow, yet it subtly spread with deadly toxicity.

The first knights to inhale it convulsed violently, vomited blood, and fell to the ground howling.

“Cough, cough ahhh!!!”

The knights writhed on the ground, the skin beneath their armor rapidly corroding and peeling away, their flesh a bloody mess!

But it wasn't over yet.

With the roar, the valley floor structure collapsed, and the vibrations of the explosion finally triggered a change in the terrain!

“Retreat quickly!”

The Snowsworn who had not yet approached the center were about to turn their horses when they saw the mountain walls on both sides tremble violently, and large rocks rolled down like rain!

Rumble—!!

Giant boulders whistled down, bringing ice and debris, smashing into the cavalry formation like divine punishment.

One war wolf had its spine directly broken, and its rider, horse and all, flew several meters, crashing heavily into a nearby comrade, the sound of exploding bones mixing with wails echoing through the valley.

“Ahhh!!! My leg!!”

“Save... save me...!”

Dismembered limbs flew, horses neighed, beasts roared, one after another.

Once the most formidable Wolf Rider elites of the snowy plains, they were now like ants swallowed by a storm.

Disheveled, miserable, and utterly defenseless.

Inside and outside the valley, there was nothing but tragic wails and the stench of charring.