Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 57 Ambush
White Feather Canyon.

The wind howled from high above, stirring up fine dust.

On a secluded high ground, Yorn lay prone behind a rock and whispered to Louis beside him, "Boss... are you sure there really will be Snowsworn passing through here?"

They set off before dawn, leading knights and soldiers, bypassing the main road and turning into this complex canyon.

Then they were busy all day long.

For example, set up barbed wire traps in narrow passages, burying steel cables and iron hooks among grass and gravel.

They also dug rockfall channels on the high ground on both sides, fixing the rocks to the top of the cliff, waiting for a push to send them rolling down into the valley.

Louis personally inspected every location, and even laid out three evacuation routes.

They don't want a fight to the death, but an ambush, preferably without casualties.

Even if something unexpected happens, we must be able to escape unscathed.

But even as the setting sun painted the cliffs red, the canyon entrance remained empty.

Not even a bird flew in to poop.

Yorn was getting restless. He lowered his voice and muttered, "Boss, did you receive some false information? What if we've been fooled..."

"Shut up." Louis didn't turn around, he just said two words.

"Oh," Yorn wisely shut up.

Louis stared at the pass below and added, "We're almost there."

Louis's confidence was not unfounded.

The source is the daily intelligence update from three days ago.

"It is estimated that thirty Snow Oath warriors will cross the northern pass of White Feather Canyon in the late afternoon of three days later."

Jon was squatting behind a rock, looking at the empty canyon, clicking his tongue listlessly.

"Will they really come?" he muttered. "Could it be that the boss got played by someone...?"

He glanced furtively at Louis, who stood calmly on a high place not far away. Louis looked composed and not nervous at all.

Just as Jon was about to make another complaint, a faint sound of horses' hooves came from the woods at the bottom of the canyon.

"...?"

He suddenly raised his head, frowned, and listened intently.

Another clear echo of hooves came, and it wasn't just one horse, but an entire troop!

Yorn immediately perked up, almost jumping up: "Holy crap...it really is!?"

He quickly ducked back behind the rock, his face filled with disbelief: "Boss, you're a prophet?!"

Louis ignored him, staring intently at the canyon entrance.

At the north entrance of the canyon, a team passed by silently.

They wore dark leather armor and iron shoulder guards, with most of their upper body muscles exposed. Their weapons varied, including heavy axes, spears, and even dilapidated imperial lances.

But everyone's eyes were like those of a ferocious wild beast.

Silence, vigilance, and a murderous aura.

This is an elite warrior unit under the command of the Snowsworn, although their equipment is crude.

They were not ordinary wandering bandits like the Snow Oathmen, but rather well-trained and ferocious hunting dogs.

Even with individual strength, he is only a mid-level formal knight in the Iron-Blooded Empire's power system.

The lead soldier reined in his horse, his gaze sweeping across the canyon ahead, and muttered, "This place... is too quiet."

The other person grinned and said, "What's there to be afraid of? The useless nobles' army has only just assembled. We're here today to give them a taste of their own medicine."

Their mission was to cut in from the north and launch a surprise attack on a noble reinforcement force that was gathering.

This swift and ruthless action is a tactic commonly used by the Snowsworn. In their eyes, this mission was nothing more than a well-practiced decapitation strike.

They were long accustomed to launching surprise attacks at dawn or dusk, trampling the territories of invaders.

Just then, the lead Snow Oath warrior suddenly pulled on the reins, and the horse's hooves tightened abruptly as soon as they touched the ground.

With a snap, the barbed wire hidden under the soil sprang up.

The iron hook coiled around the horse's leg like a snake, and with a pull, both man and horse staggered forward.

"Whoa!" Several warhorses around them cried out and retreated, and some even fell off their horses, rolling in the dust.

Metal barbs embedded themselves in the armor, producing a screeching sound, and blood seeped from the horse's legs.

A brief period of chaos erupted in the canyon, with the clatter of hooves and the billowing of dust.

The Snow Oath-taker immediately realized what was happening.

They leaped off their horses with swift and decisive movements, rolling and tumbling on the ground, drawing their swords, turning around, and forming ranks in one fluid motion.

There was no screaming, no panic.

These people had cold, beast-like eyes and almost instinctively sensed that something was wrong.

“A trap,” the lead soldier whispered.

From the moment the tripwire is triggered to the restoration of order, only a few seconds elapse.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense, and the previously steady marching rhythm was cut off by an invisible blade.

They realized they had fallen into a trap, though they didn't know who had set it up.

In the center of the formation, several warriors drew their longbows and quickly aimed at the cliffs on both sides, while the rest guarded the middle, with longswords, battle axes, and spears arranged in a circular defense.

The sound of swords clashing against iron armor echoed throughout the ranks.

Without a single command, everyone silently switched modes, as if they were travelers on their way and hunters the next second.

The leader of the Snowsworn warriors slowly drew his greatsword and whispered, "Prepare to meet the enemy."

Just then, a short command rang out from above the valley: "Attack!"

Before the sound had even faded, the stone wheel on the cliff spun violently, and the crudely made chute released the boulders.

Click——click——

A dull thud shook the mountainside, and several boulders crashed down from the cliff top with a roar.

They accelerated along the pre-set chutes, faster and faster, with a terrifying, oppressive force that seemed to tear through the air, crashing head-on into the Snow Oath warriors at the bottom of the canyon.

"Watch out above!" someone roared.

However, no sooner had the sound faded than the first boulder crashed into the group!

boom!
One soldier was caught off guard and was struck by a boulder the size of a horse cartwheel. His heavy armor twisted and deformed instantly, and he was thrown into the air, crashing heavily into the canyon wall, his blood splattering onto the stone surface.

"Damn it!" Another Snow Oath warrior tumbled into his comrade's defensive circle in a sorry state.

More boulders, like the scythe of death, rained down from the sky, crashing into the formation with a destructive roar. Shards of rock flew everywhere, warhorses neighed in terror, and the sounds of armor cracking mingled with the deafening noise.

A cloud of dust billowed up, and the entire canyon instantly descended into chaos.

"Formation! Maintain formation!" the captain shouted, his voice piercing through the dust.

These Snow Oath warriors were not a mob; even when ambushed, they maintained their discipline.

Several experienced soldiers quickly assessed the terrain and led their team to avoid the main direction of the falling rocks, preventing them from being completely crushed.

Although they were temporarily suppressed, their focus became even stronger.

Amidst the chaotic dust and smoke, the captain squinted, his gaze sweeping coldly across the surroundings.

The ambush will not be dealt with by falling rocks alone; the real battle has only just begun.

(End of this chapter)