Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 67 Attack
The cold night wind swept through the valley, scraping against my face like a knife.

Louis led his men onto a path leading to Qingyu Territory.

The mountain path is narrow, with vertical rock walls on both sides, just wide enough for one line of people to pass through.

The horses could no longer pass, so everyone dismounted, pulled hard on the reins, and walked forward in a line, one after another.

“How…how can there be a mountain path?” Yorn gasped for breath, looking down at the deep valley below, his scalp tingling. “It’s not marked on the map at all.”

“It’s probably an old smuggling route,” Louis replied casually, his expression calm. “An old hunter told me.”

He didn't explain further and continued leading the team forward.

Meanwhile, Bond silently observed the advancing procession from behind.

He was a secret envoy sent by the governor, ostensibly to provide military advice, but in reality to monitor whether the nobles were outwardly compliant but inwardly defiant or betraying the empire.

He had been observing the team the whole way.

Each soldier carries a spare weapon. Although the equipment is not fancy, it is clean and efficient, and all designed for actual combat.

Moreover, the ranks were perfectly orderly, and even the supply soldiers responsible for bringing up the rear showed no sign of panic.

As soon as Louis gave the order, even the lowest-ranking soldier responded immediately, without needing to be urged.

“Like a well-trained army,” Bond thought to himself, “not like a hastily assembled force, and certainly not like those pretentious noble soldiers from the South.”

Of course, what surprised him the most was Louis himself.

Despite his young age, the boy was genuinely respected by his subordinates.

He always walked at the front of the group. He had no attendants or many words. Occasionally he would stop to check the terrain, his expression as focused as a hunter.

“Turn left, there’s a fork in the road over there.” Louis personally led the pioneers onto a narrower, sloping path.

Bond couldn't help but look up at Louis.

This nobleman's son didn't seem like someone who had just arrived here; rather, he seemed to be inspecting his own backyard, exuding a sense of control.

What's most surprising is that the mountain path they're on now is clearly a hidden route that almost no one has ever discovered.

It wasn't marked on the military's map, and with the surrounding weeds, it looked like no one had ever walked there.

But Louis walked without hesitation, as if he already knew every turn and every stone.

"If I had to point out any shortcomings..."

Bond frowned, his gaze falling on the belated supply convoy at the end of the mountain path.

The marching speed was noticeably slower, as if they were deliberately stalling for time.

Just then, as the group had stabilized at the end of the road, two scouts rode up.

"Report!" They dismounted before Louis and knelt in salute: "A Snowsworn outpost has been discovered three miles ahead, with approximately two hundred troops stationed there."

Louis simply nodded slightly: "Two hundred men...we can handle them. I need the enemy's defensive lines, patrol routes, and the surrounding terrain."

"Yes!" The scout knight mounted his horse again and quickly disappeared down the path.

Bond stood to the side, his brows furrowing unconsciously.

"He actually found the Snowsworn's stronghold," he murmured to himself.

This outpost has a long history and has long been controlled by the Snowsworn, making it a persistent problem for the Governor of the North.

Because its location is extremely crucial.

Between Xuefeng County and Binghai County, there are crisscrossing mountains and complex terrain, and Qingyu Ridge is a rare shortcut.

If we can control this place, it will be equivalent to controlling the vital passage for the Snow Oath Warriors' northward retreat and reinforcements.

They also dispatched troops several times to try to wipe out the area.

However, their stronghold was too well hidden and easy to defend, making them difficult to attack. Several attempts to attack failed.

If Louis can really take this place, he will at least be awarded a first-class merit!

The problem is that he didn't ask for reinforcements, didn't observe the situation, and didn't even hesitate for a moment. Did he really intend to just take it all down with a simple "we can fight"?
That's incredibly bold...

Bond watched the boy's retreating figure as he walked ahead, his heart churning with emotion.

But he soon realized something else.

How could such an important stronghold as Qingyu Ridge only have two hundred people?
This number doesn't seem right.

In such a strategic location, the Oath-Sworn could not possibly number only two hundred.

Where did the rest of the troops go?

Bond suddenly had a bad feeling.

…………

Night fell in the banquet hall of Snow Eagle City, where candles still burned and cups lay scattered about.

A messenger knight, travel-worn and dusty, burst through the door and almost stumbled as he rushed to the main table:
"Report! Scouts at the front report that a large number of Snowsworn cavalry are approaching Snoweagle City, and they appear to be... over a thousand!"

Count Firth's wine glass trembled, spilling half of it onto himself.

"One, one thousand?" he asked again, thinking he had misheard.

"A large number of Snowsworn cavalry, approximately one thousand strong, have been spotted approaching Snoweagle City," the messenger knight repeated.

"Impossible... How is this possible!?"

He almost staggered to his feet: "Weren't we supposed to be sending troops to wipe out the Snowsworn? How come they've turned the tables?"

Before he could finish speaking, another messenger knight rushed in: "My lord, Viscount Webster is on the city wall and needs you to go see him immediately!"

As night fell, only a few scattered lights remained on the walls of Snow Eagle City.

Viscount Webster had already climbed to the top of the city wall, draped in a thick cloak, gazing at the distant snowfield.

Amidst the undulating snowfields, a black tide was rapidly approaching.

Those were not ordinary cavalry; they were Snowsworn Wolf Riders.

The snow wolf ran like a shadow, its footsteps silent, yet it stirred up a cloud of snow dust.
The rider was clad in animal hides and scale armor, gleaming silver, exuding a sinister aura.

Each mount was muscular, with gleaming blue eyes and protruding fangs, as if it could pounce on its prey at any moment and tear it apart.

That frenzied aura was so overwhelming that it was almost impossible to breathe.

“Snowsworn Wolf Riders,” Webster said in a deep voice.

A young knight beside him instinctively gripped his weapon, frowning as he said, "Only a few hundred people..."

Webster shook his head, his eyes hardening: "This is the vanguard. There are definitely more behind them."

He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly at his waist, his voice low and somber: "They're going to attack the city."

Footsteps sounded, and more nobles rushed over, crowding onto the city wall.

Count Firth, panting, climbed the steps and immediately saw the group of dark figures in the snow. His expression changed drastically: "What...what's going on?"

The nobles on the city wall were immediately thrown into chaos.

"How did they turn around and attack us instead!"

Why wasn't there any advance notice?

"Can this city be defended?"

Some of the nobles, pale-faced and on the verge of collapse, were talking amongst themselves.

Especially Firth, gripping the battlements, his voice trembling: "Oh dear! What... what are we going to do..."

Webster remained standing in the snowstorm, his gaze calm.

"Concentrate the archers and spearmen at the north wall, and bring in a few hundred more knights," he ordered. "Hold the first wave of attacks."

(End of this chapter)