Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 463 Temple
The remaining Red Tide Legion was still clearing out the remaining monsters and spores on the outskirts of the Holy City, deliberately slowing down their advance.

Louis, leading a hundred elite Crimson Tide warriors clad in standard red armor, was the first to step through the gates of the Holy City.

There were no streets in the city. Underfoot was a soft, slippery pink material. With each step, the soles of my boots would feel sticky and pull, making a barely audible but uncomfortable sound.

The air was heavy and murky, filled with a pungent artificial fragrance to mask the stench of corpses and rotting flesh seeping from the depths.

Red Tide's crimson armor stood out starkly in this alien space. Nearly a hundred extraordinary knights advanced at standard intervals, their gun muzzles and long-handled weapons always pointing forward and to the flanks. Their footsteps were deliberately slowed, creating a dangerous sense of dislocation with the writhing fleshy ground.

Meanwhile, the filter canister beneath the Red Tide Knight's visor was also operating.

The Frostleaf Type III gas mask emitted a soft, steady hiss, and a faint blue light illuminated the dimly lit corridor of fleshy walls. Otherwise, he would have already suffered a mental breakdown.

Suddenly the corridor ahead shook, and then the fleshy wall at the end was forcibly torn open.

A torrent of golden-green energy surged forth—the Frankenstein heavy cavalry, and clearly far more powerful than those outside the Holy City.

They trod on the soft ground, splashing pink slime with every step, their roars echoing repeatedly in the corridor, as if approaching from all directions at the same time.

The Red Tide formation did not retreat; their red shields rose simultaneously, the heavy tower shields interlocking to form a tight shield wall.

The shield was lowered, the butt of the gun rested on the shoulder, and the long-handled weapon protruded from the gap, its blade aimed at the approaching deformed figure.

Will stood at the front, drew his greatsword, and plunged it into the slippery, pink fleshy ground beneath his feet.

As the sword pierced through, the ground twitched slightly, as if its internal organs had been pierced.

"Form ranks."

The next second, the battle qi circuits within his body lit up simultaneously.

Crimson light radiated outwards from his chest cavity, like a heat wave that had been compressed and then suddenly released, forming a semi-transparent hemispherical shield around him.

The first wave of Frankenstein's monsters crashed into us.

"Thump—!!!"

A dull, resounding boom echoed repeatedly in the corridor, and visible ripples spread across the surface of the shield.

The enormous impact traveled up the ground, and even the knights in the back row felt a jolt beneath their feet.

Will didn't retreat an inch; his feet seemed to be welded to the ground, and his battle aura shield absorbed all the kinetic energy from the front.

On the contrary, the first few stitched monsters that crashed into the shield lost their balance due to the reaction force, their bones making a crisp cracking sound, like flies being swatted in the face, and slid all the way to the outside of the shield.

Will's gaze remained calm: "Stab."

Behind the shield, the Crimson Tide Knights simultaneously took half a step forward, thrusting their spears forward.

The tip of the Demon-Slaying Spear precisely pierced the most incongruous parts of those monsters' bodies.

The spear tip pierced flesh, and the stitched monster convulsed and collapsed, its limbs losing control. Its attempt to regrow was forcibly interrupted by the anti-magic properties, and then it was instantly engulfed by the flames from the flamethrower.

The battle line advanced steadily, and just then, a dark blue figure swept out from the side of the shield.

Saco wielded a greatsword, its deep blue aura coiling around the blade like a wild beast, accompanied by irregular vibrations.

An eight-armed Frankenstein's monster tried to close its arms and pull Sako into its embrace.

That thick layer of fat and muscle was enough to withstand a heavy machine gun.

Sakho cut in just before it closed in, getting so close it was almost touching.

"Fuck-"

The sword swept across and severed the monster's two bottom supporting legs, causing its massive body to lose balance and tilt forward.

Sako took a step back and turned around. The blade fell, splitting open the crookedly stitched head like a ripe melon. Blood and mucus splattered out, only to be immediately evaporated by his fighting spirit.

The surrounding Crimson Tide Knights quickly followed, but they couldn't kill the monster as effortlessly as Saco.

They do not pursue individual kills, but strictly adhere to a three-person battle formation.

One person blocks the monster's attack from the front, stabilizing its center of gravity; another person severs its lower limbs, disrupting its mobility; and the last person finishes it off, either decapitating it or destroying its core nodes.

Before long, the battle formation centered on Will had completely transformed into a highly efficient meat grinder.

The monster's corpse was piled up in layers on the ground.

Severed limbs, dissected torsos, and still-twitching fragments were mixed together, and the Red Tide Knights repeatedly trampled on them, squeezing out turbid and viscous fluid.

But even so, the number of monsters did not decrease at all, and they continued to emerge in an endless stream. The fleshy walls on both sides bulged up and were torn apart by the internal forces.

The new Frankenstein monster was squeezed directly out of the building structure, its body still attached to blood vessels and fascia that had not yet completely detached, and it continued to charge forward, trying to tear a gap with chaos.

"Hold the formation!" Will's voice cut through the chaos of the battlefield. "Don't scatter!"

The crimson battle aura shield remained firmly deployed, blocking the frontal attacks time and time again.

Although the Red Tide Knights suffered no casualties, their advance has slowed significantly.

They were forced to repeatedly clear the area, as if they were going against the current in a narrow river channel that was constantly being filled with silt.

Every step forward requires significantly more time to clear the area.

The monsters in this living city seem endless; the stitched monsters crawl out of every crevice like cockroaches.

“Damn it…” Will gritted his teeth, the hilt of his sword scraping softly against his palm. “Sakho! Clear the right side! Don’t let them get near the adults!”

Throughout this tense stalemate, Louis remained standing in the center of the team.

He could sense something taking shape deeper within the holy city.

That aura instinctively disgusted him, yet it precisely resonated with his primal heart.

Louis muttered to himself, "Indeed... everything here originated from there."

He stepped forward, directly over the edge of the shield that Weil was desperately maintaining.

A very brief period of disorder occurred behind the lines.

"Lord Louis!"

Will turned around abruptly, his battle aura shield pulsating violently: "It's too dangerous up ahead, I'll handle this..."

“You stay here.” Louis’s voice came through the protective mask, devoid of any emotion.

He simply took that step calmly, stepping out of the absolute defensive circle that the crimson shield could cover.

Will's pupils suddenly contracted: "My lord—!"

Several giant stitched monsters that had been hovering around the edge of the shield immediately noticed the lone target.

They emitted excited and piercing screechs, and three bone scythes the size of door panels, carrying a foul stench, simultaneously slashed at Louis's head from the top, left, and right corners.

But Louis didn't flinch, he didn't even lift his eyelids, and he didn't seem to sense any danger.

He merely turned his head slightly, and a gleam of molten gold instantly shone in his originally deep eyes.

That was from the primordial era, the absolute condescension of predators at the top of the food chain, looking down upon lower life forms. Louis's lips moved slightly: "Get lost."

Invisible ripples spread out from him.

The shock to the soul descended at that moment. The three giant stitched monsters that were pouncing in mid-air froze instantly, and then their bodies burst open with foul-smelling green bile.

No physical attacks hit them.

It was simply that their nervous systems, unable to withstand the fear from the depths of their instincts, overloaded and burned out.

"Clap."

Three enormous bodies, like puppets with broken strings, crashed heavily at Louis's feet, like dolls whose will had been drained.

Louis ignored him and continued forward. With each step he took, the invisible golden pressure pushed forward a step further.

The dense, bloodthirsty horde of stitched monsters ahead now resembled a swarm of rats encountering their natural enemy.

They let out low, broken whimpers and scrambled to retreat to both sides.

Those who retreated slower had their bodies disintegrate under the pressure, their internal organs burst, and they turned into a shapeless mass of flesh.

The originally congested corridor was forcibly separated.

A straight and wide passageway took shape beneath Louis's feet.

Behind him, Will's hand, which was maintaining the shield, froze in mid-air. The crimson aura barrier seemed more superfluous than ever before.

He looked at the figure ahead, whose back was swaying slightly in the non-existent air currents around Louis, causing all strange things to scatter in its wake.

The surrounding Crimson Tide Knights also stopped what they were doing, their hands gripping their weapons tightening and then loosening unconsciously.

Sakho muttered something under his breath, his voice almost completely swallowed by his helmet: "...Just what is our lord?"

Will took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the surging emotions in his chest.

"Don't stop." He steadied the shield again, his voice regaining its usual coldness. "Advance and follow Lord Louis's route."

However, even though the Crimson Tide Guards had done their best to advance, and even though Will's crimson aura shield remained as solid as ever, the distance between them and Louis continued to widen.

That's not a difference in speed, but a difference in level.

The place Louis is heading to is not a battlefield they should be setting foot on.

…………

Louis paused briefly before stepping into the temple.

From afar, it is a massive structure made of white and gold, standing in the heart of the city.

The towering dome still exists, but it is tightly entwined by layers of intertwined golden thorns.

Thorns slowly creep along the original, rigorous architectural lines, precisely replicating the temple's former symmetrical aesthetics.

This cold and restrained religious aesthetic has not disappeared; it has simply been fully transplanted into flesh and plants.

Louis's gaze lingered on the building for a moment before shifting away.

He reached out and pushed open the door in front of him.

This massive white stone gate, once the temple's heaviest structure weighing tens of thousands of tons, has now been completely corrupted, covered by countless bones and chunks of flesh.

The door felt warm to the touch, with a regular pulsation, as if it were responding to the touch, as if the door was still fulfilling some kind of welcoming duty.

This sacred temple, once renowned for its white stone pillars, platinum arches, and endlessly extending dome, has completely lost its architectural concept and has instead collapsed into a huge living chamber.

This is not a metaphor; the entire hall is breathing.

Through the membrane, one could even see the murky golden blood flowing inside.

The liquid circulates along established pathways, with occasional shadows flashing through the depths, like the reflexes of organs yet to be awakened.

Louis's gaze moved along both sides of the hall.

The original location where the sacred decrees and doctrinal reliefs were hung has now been completely transformed. Most notably, like a doll display on a shop counter, twenty-four shriveled corpses are neatly nailed to the fleshy walls.

They wore robes that represented authority; the gold threads had long lost their luster, but the patterns that once symbolized power and glory were still visible.

Countless glowing green thorns grew from inside the flesh, piercing their limbs and firmly fixing the corpses in mid-air.

These people have obviously been dead for many years.

However, their facial muscles did not relax.

Every face was frozen in the same expression: extreme pain and an uncontrollable jealousy.

Those were the frozen emotions left behind by the losers at the last moment, preserved forever in this living temple.

Louis's gaze passed over the collection and landed at the far end of the hall.

That should have been the location of the white throne.

Now only a twisted golden tree that grew from the ground remains.

The tree trunk is thick and has a sickly golden sheen, as if it has been forcibly coated with a sacred shell.

Under the luster, countless fine, thorn-like patterns spiral and grow along the trunk.

These thorns contracted at an extremely slow pace, with pale green sap occasionally oozing from their tips, as if undergoing some kind of internal circulation.

Through the gaps between the thorns, one can see golden liquid flowing along fixed veins, perfectly synchronized with the neural network of the entire hall.

Eduardo was in the middle of the tree, and it took Louis a while to recognize his once somewhat overweight older brother.

His lower body had disappeared. From the waist down, his body was completely transformed, decomposed into countless tiny golden thorns that grew backward into the trunk.

His upper body still retained a human form, but appeared unusually fragile.

Fine, golden veins spread out along the direction of the thorns, like wires forcibly connected, interlocking with the veins inside the tree trunk.

The golden thorn and feather crown on its head is the core of the entire Holy Curtain Temple.

Its roots had long since pierced Eduardo's scalp and skull, deeply penetrating his brain and finally connecting with countless golden nerve fibers inside the hall.

The thorn-like wings open and close at an extremely slow frequency, and each movement causes the entire chamber to vibrate synchronously.

His eyes were open, but unfocused. What flowed from his eyes were not tears, but slowly seeping golden pus and blood that slid down his cheeks.

The entire hall fell into a suffocating stillness.

Only the pulsating of the fleshy membrane, the low hum of the flowing nutrient solution, and the sound of the golden tree's continuous and patient growth could be heard.

Louis stood there, watching it all unfold.

Suddenly, the golden thorny feather crown lit up!
A blinding emerald green poisonous light burst forth from the depths of the feathered crown, causing the entire living palace to contract violently.

The twenty-four corpses on the wall suddenly opened their eyes!
(End of this chapter)