Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 71 Killed in Action
"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Several spell bullets landed on a corner of the city wall, and the magical corruption spread like vines, until a section of the city wall finally collapsed with a roar.

A breakthrough has appeared!

"Charge! Take it!" Barnes roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

The ranks of the Snow Oath warriors poured in through the breach like a flood.

The defending knights immediately engaged in battle, attempting to plug the breach.

But they soon discovered that the Snowsworn's formation on the opposite side was flawless in its advance.

A knight charged forward with his sword raised, only to have his armor pierced by a spear and thrown from his horse in the next second.

He struggled to his feet, but a second spear pierced his chest and pinned him to the stone slab.

As the battle line continued to advance, screams came from both flanks as wolf riders circled around and cut in, tearing through the defensive lines of the streets and alleys.

The knights guarding the street tried to intercept them at the alley entrance, but were crushed within minutes. Amidst the flames, only the sound of wolf hooves trampling corpses could be heard.

The worst damage was on the east side of the main gate.

A veteran Northern Knights garrison was caught in the chaos here. At first, they formed a strong defensive line and were able to organize a counterattack.

But the next enemy was a group of incredibly fast Snowsworn warriors, like wild dogs darting out of the darkness.

There were no commands, no formations.

They didn't utter a word, but their actions were synchronized: they tackled, slit throats, and dismembered.

One knight had just knocked his opponent to the ground when he turned around and was stabbed in the back by a short blade from behind, without even being able to utter a sound.

"Keep it straight! That's a Mad Wolf Warrior!" a well-informed captain shouted at the top of his lungs, but no one heard him.

More people were tackled to the street corner and dragged into the Naruto world.

The screams on the battlefield grew more frequent, but they were all short and swift.

It was as if those knights had never existed.

Within minutes, the entire position was cleared out, blood staining the ground and carrying a pungent stench.

The last resistance was extinguished at the city gate.

The knights of the empire began to scatter.

The Snowsworn continued their advance, like a silent grim reaper, inching closer and closer from the mist.

In the flames, the empire's flag finally fell.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Barnes stood at the edge of the ruins, looking up at the tattered gold and red cloth being swallowed by the flames, and laughed excitedly.

The Imperial Army's defenses couldn't hold out for more than an hour.

Resistance is like a piece of paper that has been set on fire; it burns briefly before turning to ashes.

With the main street breached and the inner city defenses collapsed, Snow Eagle City officially fell.

The knights, now without a commander, fled in panic, while the nobles, utterly devoid of dignity, scrambled to escape the city, even trampling over their fallen confidants as they fled for their lives.

"Don't stop me! I am a viscount! I am an imperial nobleman!"

"I can pay! I have gold!"

Wailing and screams mingled with blood and fire, but the Oath-Slayers remained silent, only relentlessly slaughtering.

Before a ruin, Viscount Fisher stumbled forward, his face full of obsequiousness, and blocked Barnes's path.

"Your Excellency! It is I! Fischer! I was the one who sent out the Snow Eagle City defense map!"

He patted his chest and said urgently, "I personally delivered that map! Without me, how could you have succeeded so smoothly?"

Barnes squinted at him, a look of near pleasure on his face.

"It's you!" he said with a smile as he approached, putting a hand on Fisher's shoulder. "What a good dog."

Upon hearing this, Viscount Fisher's eyes lit up with ecstatic joy, and his body stopped trembling.

“He deserves a reward,” Barnes said with a smile.

Just as Fisher was about to respond, a flash of silver light suddenly appeared.

"I'll give you a quick death." The long sword had already fallen.

The viscount's head rolled into a pool of blood, his face still bearing a triumphant expression, but frozen there forever.

On the other side, along an alleyway in the west of the city, Baron Zachary led his remaining knights, tumbling and crawling out of a side gate.

Although his knights were reduced to less than one-tenth.

After crossing the last line of defense, he finally leaped onto his horse and looked back at the burning city.

Flames engulfed the towers of Snow Eagle City, billowing thick black smoke and screams that could be heard from afar.

"As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn; as long as we're alive, that's good enough."

He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling fortunate to have survived, and then ran away into the distance.

They were afraid that if they ran too slow, they would be slashed by the Snow Oath Warrior.

In other directions, the blockade outside the city had already been set up.

The Snow Oath fighters blocked off alleyways, city gates, and sewers, and even laid ambushes at the entrances of secret passages.

A few noble family guards broke through the encirclement, but many more were killed in the chaos.

Cries of agony, pleas for mercy, and blood mingled with thick smoke and embers.

The entire Snow Eagle City has been turned into a slaughterhouse.

The city is no longer defensible.

On one side of the battlefield, Viscount Webster, clad in tattered plate armor, stood amidst the ruins, blood trickling from his forehead and dripping down his chin onto his cloak.

He gazed at the enemy army surging towards him like a tide, his hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes as cold as iron.

He gave the final command to the remaining knights:

"First team, escort Little Foss to break through, go as far as you can."

"Second team, set fire to the granary and treasure vault; those bastards won't get anything."

"Third team!" He paused, his gaze fixed on the mad wolf warriors charging towards them from afar. "Follow me, go and stop those wild dogs."

Without uttering a word, the knights mounted their horses, drew their swords, and broke out in different directions.

Webster gripped his sword tightly, took a deep breath, and stomped forward.

The next moment, the ground shook violently, and debris flew everywhere!

The battle qi suddenly erupted, and a conspicuous blue light tore through the mist, carving a chasm in the night.

Webster drew his sword, his figure transforming into a streak of azure light, instantly shattering the bone armor and throats of the three mad wolf warriors in front of him.

"Follow me and kill them!!!"

The royal guards roared and followed closely behind.

But he was too fast, like a bolt of blue lightning plunging into the enemy ranks alone.

The Mad Wolf Warriors were fierce and insane, but they fell one after another like straws before him.

Someone thrust a spear at him, and he turned and cut off the man's arm.

Several men lunged at him with a flurry of blades, but he deflected them with his fighting spirit and slashed them in half at the waist with a backhand strike!

Sweat and blood mingled as he fought against more than a dozen men, advancing relentlessly like a dying yet proud lion.

He even broke through the mad wolf formation at one point, heading straight for Barnes, his sword flashing as he approached.

But as time went on, the old extraordinary knight's fighting spirit continued to weaken, his wounds kept piling up, and he was covered in blood.

Until the final blow severed his knee, he collapsed to his knees in the shattered street.

Behind them were burnt-down granaries and occupied streets.

Before him stood the black tide of the Snow Oath and the deafening roars that echoed through the sky.

He looked up at the imperial dragon flag that had been trampled into the mud, his chest heaving violently, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Old brother… I’m sorry…” he murmured, his voice as low as the wind, “I hope that child… can escape…”

His eyelids slowly drooped, and the last bit of fighting spirit quietly extinguished on the edge of his sword.

(End of this chapter)