The cold night wind whipped through the valley, slicing across faces like a knife.
Louis led the team onto a path leading to Qingyu Territory.
The mountain path was narrow, with vertical rock walls on both sides, just wide enough for a single file of people to pass.
The horses could no longer proceed, so everyone dismounted, pulling the reins forcefully as they queued up one after another to move forward.
"How... how is there a mountain path here?" Yorn gasped, glancing at the deep valley below, his scalp tingling, "It’s not marked on the map at all."
"It might be an old smuggling route," Louis responded casually, his expression calm, "An old hunter told ."
He didn’t explain further and continued to lead the team forward.
anwhile, Bond silently observed the advancing team.
He was a secret envoy sent by the Governor, ostensibly to provide military advice but in reality to monitor whether the nobility was superficially compliant or betraying the Empire.
He had been observing this team all along the way.
Each soldier carried a spare weapon; the gear wasn’t flashy, but it was clean and efficient, all designed for actual combat.
The formation was orderly, even the supply soldiers responsible for bringing up the rear showed no panic.
Whenever Louis gave an order, even the last soldier responded imdiately without needing urging.
"It’s like a well-trained army," Bond thought, "Not patched together temporarily, and certainly not like those noble troops from the south who only put on airs."
Of course, what surprised him the most was Louis himself.
Young, yet genuinely respected by his subordinates.
He always led at the very front without attendants swarming around him and with no unnecessary words, occasionally stopping to confirm the terrain, as focused as a hunter.
"To the left, there’s a fork there." Louis personally led the vanguard down an even narrower slope.
Bond couldn’t help but look up at Louis.
This noble scion didn’t seem like soone new to this place, instead moving with a sense of mastery, as if patrolling his own backyard.
What was most surprising was the path they were on, which clearly was a hidden route almost nobody had found.
It wasn’t marked on the military maps, and from the state of the weeds around, it seed like no one had trodden it.
Yet Louis tread the path without hesitation, as if he had known every turn, every stone beforehand.
"If there’s any flaw..."
Bond frowned, his gaze falling on the slowly advancing supply team at the end of the path.
The marching speed was noticeably slower, as if deliberately stalling.
At this mont, while stabilizing the team at the path’s end, two scout riders galloped up.
"Report!" They dismounted hastily before Louis, saluting on one knee: "Three miles ahead we discovered a Snow Swearer outpost, approximately two hundred troops."
Louis rely nodded slightly: "Two hundred n... we can take them. I want details on enemy defenses, patrol routes, and surrounding terrain."
"Yes!" The Scout Knight mounted his horse again and quickly disappeared down the path.
Standing to the side, Bond’s brow knitted unconsciously.
"He really found a Snow Swearer outpost," he muttered to himself.
This outpost had existed for a long ti, controlled by the Snow Swearers, always a thorn for the Governor of the Northern Territory.
Because its location was extrely crucial.
The mountains between Snow Peak County and Ice Sea County were crisscrossed and complex, with Qingyu Ridge being one of the few shortcuts.
Controlling this place was tantamount to seizing the throat of the Snow Swearers’ retreat and reinforcent routes to the north.
There had been several military attempts to eliminate this place.
However, the outpost was too well-hidden and easy to defend but hard to attack, leading to multiple failed attempts.
If Louis could truly capture this place, it would rit serious recognition, starting with at least a first-class rit!
But the question was, he hadn’t requested reinforcents, hadn’t observed the situation, not even a hint of hesitation.
Just a simple "we can fight" and he intended to take it directly?
Such audacity...
Bond watched the silhouette of the young man walking ahead, his heart in turmoil.
But he quickly realized sothing else.
How could such an important outpost at Qingyu Ridge have only two hundred n?
That number, it seed off.
This strategic location, the Snow Swearers couldn’t possibly have only two hundred troops.
Where were the other forces?
Bond suddenly had a foreboding feeling.
......
Night fell, and within the banquet hall of Snow Eagle City, the candles burned brightly amidst scattered cups and plates.
A winded Order Knight burst through the main gate, almost stumbling as he rushed to the main table:
"Report! Scouts from the front lines report a large force of Snow Swearer cavalry approaching Snow Eagle City, seemingly... over a thousand strong!"
Count Fos’s hand trembled with the wine cup, spilling it over himself.
"A-a thousand?" he asked again, thinking he misheard.
"A large force of Snow Swearer cavalry approaching Snow Eagle City, about a thousand n." The Order Knight repeated.
"Impossible... how can that be!"
He almost staggered to his feet: "Weren’t we supposed to send troops to eliminate the Snow Swearers? How did it turn out they are attacking us?"
Before he could finish, another Order Knight hurriedly pushed the door open: "My lord, Viscount Webster is on the city wall, he asks for you urgently!"
The night was descending, and the city walls of Snow Eagle were lit only by scattered torches.
Viscount Webster had long stood atop the wall, draped in a thick cloak, gazing out over the snowy field.
Amidst the undulating snow, a dark tide rapidly approached.
Those weren’t ordinary cavalry; they were Snow Swearer Wolf Riders.
Snow wolves ran like shadows, their footsteps silent but stirring up a blizzard of snow.
The riders were clad in furs and scale armor, gleaming silver and exuding an aura of nace.
Each mount was muscular, with glowing blue eyes and exposed fangs, as if ready to pounce on prey and tear it apart.
Their insane montum was suffocating.
"Snow Swearer Wolf Riders," Webster spoke in a low voice.
A young knight beside him instinctively tightened his grip on his weapon, frowning: "Just a few hundred..."
Webster shook his head, his gaze steely: "This is the vanguard. There must be more behind them."
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, his tone somber: "They’re intent on laying siege."
Footsteps echoed as more nobles hurriedly arrived, crowding onto the city wall.
Count Fos ascended the steps, panting, and upon seeing the black shadows in the snow, his face changed drastically: "What on earth is happening here?"
The noble assemblage on the wall descended into chaos.
"How did it co to them attacking us?"
"Why wasn’t there prior information?"
"Can the city hold?"
Various nobles spoke over each other, their faces pale and on the brink of collapse.
Especially Fos, clutching the parapet, his voice trembling: "Ah! Wha-what should we do now..."
But Webster remained standing amidst the wind and snow, his gaze steady.
"Concentrate the archers and spearn on the north wall and bring over a few hundred knights," he commanded, "Hold the line against the first wave."
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