Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports Chapter 187: Preparation before the expedition

As soon as Louis stepped out of the reception room, before he had walked more than a few steps, he heard a rapid sound of footsteps behind him.

He didn't turn around, but stopped at the corner of the corridor.

The wind blew in from the high windows, the curtains trembled lightly, and sunlight spilled onto the stone-tiled floor, reflecting a pair of familiar boot shadows.

“You—are you really going yourself?” Emily’s voice held a carefully suppressed anxiety.

She stood beside him, her lips tightly pressed, yet she feigned calmness.

Louis didn't answer imdiately, only saying faintly, “I should do [N O V E L I G H T] this.”

Emily bit her lip, her eyes fixed on him, as if trying to discern a hint of wavering on his face.

“You heard what Karl said—it’s not an ordinary monster.” Her voice trembled slightly, “Why does it have to be you when we could just send people to investigate?”

There was no coquetry or tantrums in her eyes; only genuine fear.

The fear that he might go and never return, the fear of watching him throw himself into a reckless danger.

“We just got married—” she whispered, her eyes reddening, “I haven’t even had a chance to—talk to you properly.”

The wind gently ruffled her hair, a few strands clinging to her cheek, making her appear fragile yet stubborn.

Louis said nothing more, only reached out and gently held her cold fingers.

At that mont, the corridor was so quiet that only the sound of the wind remained.

Emily froze for a mont, then subtly turned her head and leaned gently on his shoulder.

She closed her eyes, as if secretly hiding the wetness at the corners of her eyes.

“Then at least—you have to promise ,” she whispered, “that if anything goes wrong, you’ll retreat imdiately.” “Mm.” Louis’s grip on her fingers tightened slightly.

A mont later, Emily released his hand, took a shallow breath, and regained her usual composure: “Go, my hero. Go gather your Knights. Don’t keep them waiting too long.”

She turned and left, without looking back.

After bidding farewell to Emily, Louis did not linger, his steps decisively turning towards the castle’s training grounds.

Lambert was patrolling the drill ground with a few adjutants. As soon as he saw Louis approaching quickly, he imdiately stopped and saluted.

“My Lord?”

“Lambert,” Louis said gravely, “Imdiately gather all Elite Knights and Formal Knights currently stationed in Red Tide Territory. All personnel are to don their armor and assemble, preparing for the expedition.”

Lambert’s expression shifted, and his gaze instantly beca serious.

“All of them?” he instinctively confird.

“All of them.” Louis nodded, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, “I want to see them fully ard on the training ground in half an hour.”

“Understood.” Lambert asked no further questions, turning sharply and leaving quickly to relay the order.

Louis, anwhile, imdiately mounted his horse and galloped directly to the Alchemy Workshop in Red Tide City’s South Street.

Two apprentices in thick smocks were moving equipnt out of the door. Seeing that it was the Lord himself, they quickly bowed in salute.

“Is Silco here?”

“Yes, yes, he’s inside dealing with Magic Bomb reagents!”

Louis pushed the door open, and the familiar pungent sll assailed him. Alchemy furnaces hissed, and various test tubes and tal instrunts filled three long tables.

Silco was adjusting sothing, wearing goggles. He looked up, saw Louis, and hastily removed his gloves: “You’ve co at just the right ti!

I’ve just experinted with a new batch of Magic Bomb bases; I only need to—”

Louis interrupted him, speaking very quickly, “Tell , how many finished Red Platinum Magic Bombs do you have left?”

Silco paused, then instinctively replied, “Finished ones? About sixty-odd, I haven’t had ti to classify and number them all yet...”

“Take thirty of them and send them to the training ground.” Louis ordered directly.

“Are you crazy?!” Silco almost jumped up, his eyes wide, “Thirty! Are you going to use them to flatten Frost Halberd City?! Are you planning to rebel against the North?”

“I don’t have ti for your jokes.” Louis’s voice was icy.

The air solidified for a mont. Silco looked at his steady, unruffled, yet sharp eyes.

He realized that Louis truly intended to use these bombs, and the target was probably even more troubleso than he imagined.

“I understand.” Silco licked his lips, “I’ll personally seal them and deliver them to the training ground within half an hour.”

“The sooner the better.” Louis nodded, then pushed the door open, leaped onto his horse again, and galloped away.

The rare sumr sun of the North fell on the shoulders of the armored, arrayed Knights, but no one was distracted by it.

A total of one hundred and forty Knights stood solemnly on the training ground.

Steadfast faces looked towards the high platform in front.

Louis stood upon it, clad in a red Lord’s battle robe, holding several hand-drawn blueprints.

“Gentlen.” He began, his voice not loud, but it instantly quelled all restlessness in the field.

“I know this assembly is sudden. But before you depart, I must let you know that the enemy we are about to face is not ordinary.”

He unfolded the blueprints, revealing a terrifying drawing: a honeycomb structure like intertwined flesh and blood, with a giant, suspended “flesh sac” drawn at its core, and dense “corpses” being thrown into it below.

This was a drawing he had commissioned in advance.

“This is our enemy, the Broodmother.”

He paused for a second, allowing everyone to clearly see the drawing, before continuing:

“It is not a simple monster lair, but a living, constantly evolving intelligent structure. The hive body presents a honeycomb shape, protected by an outer shell of bone and flesh, and the core is this high-hanging ‘Conversion Sac Core’.”

Then he turned to the next drawing, which depicted an even more shocking monster:

Human corpses fused with insects, their bodies twisted, bones exposed, eyes hollow, but still clutching broken Knight’s swords and shields.

“These are called Worm-Eaten Household.” His tone was calm, “They are ford from infected human dead, retaining their combat instincts from life, and can even use weapons and defensive stances.

The parasitic insects within them make them almost impossible to completely kill. Even if cut in half, they will try to crawl towards you.

More importantly, they are contagious. If you are accidentally parasitized by these insects, you will also beco a mindless walking corpse. Therefore, you must wear full armor and helts.” A murmur ran through the field below; even battle-hardened Knights couldn't help but frown.

“I speculate that the unified command of the Worm-Eaten Household cos from the Broodmother’s ntal link. Just as a queen bee controls a swarm, it is not a scattered group of stragglers, but an entire army with tactics and coordination.”

“Therefore, our goal is only one: to destroy the Broodmother’s Sac. That is its heart, the central hub of the entire system.”

He scanned the crowd, his eyes sharp, his tone suddenly changing: “I will not deceive you about how dangerous it is.

One team, twenty Elite Knights led by an Extraordinary Knight, were all annihilated; only one escaped.”

These words poured into everyone’s hearts like a cold current.

After a mont of silence, a few young Knights swallowed hard and tightened their grip on their longswords.

But more people straightened their backs in silence.

This was not the first ti they faced a terrifying enemy; they were no longer the abandoned Knights from Red Tide Territory’s humble beginnings.

They were Red Tide Knights, the iron guards who had followed Louis through mountains of corpses and seas of blood to win Qingyu Ridge.

Duke Edmund, standing not far away, watched quietly, with a hint of surprise and so admiration in his eyes.

He had originally thought this young man was rely daring and aggressive, with occasional cunning, but he never expected him to be able to piece together such a complete and reasonable enemy profile from re fragnts of information.

The Duke subtly curved his lips. “Truly, a talent for command.”

Eduardo, who had co to watch the excitent, listened to his brother vividly describe the structure of the “Broodmother” and the “Sac Core,” and frowned slightly.

“Like a beehive, with a collective consciousness, creating soldiers by converting corpses.” He seed to recall a familiar mory from his mind. “This design—I seem to have seen it sowhere before.”

Eduardo lowered his eyelids, took a shallow breath, and muttered softly, “That missing Archmage—could he be involved?”

He suddenly looked up and approached the platform: “When do you plan to depart?”

“Noon,” Louis replied.

Eduardo nodded gently, a faint smile playing on his lips: “Then I’ll go too. I don’t have anything else to do lately anyway.”

“You?” Louis hesitated slightly.

“Don’t forget, I’m also an Extraordinary Knight.” Eduardo shrugged.

“Alright.” Louis pondered for half a second, then nodded, “Then you’ll stay and join the expedition.”

Louis then unrolled the blueprints on the platform again and began the tactical deploynt.

“Regarding the Broodmother’s weaknesses, here are my speculations.” He scanned the crowd below, his tone unwavering:

“First, the Broodmother has no long-range attack capability. It is too massive, too slow, and its structure is not suitable for long-range strikes beyond supporting the Worm-Eaten Household.

As long as we maintain mobility, it can only stare blankly.

Second, the Broodmother’s central Sac Core is extrely fragile. It is wrapped within the deepest flesh sac, which is the core of the entire Worm-Eaten Household’s ntal link.

Once destroyed, it is highly likely to paralyze, disrupt, or even cause the entire Worm-Eaten Household system to turn on itself.

Third, it cannot move. The Broodmother is a sessile parasite, deeply reliant on the current terrain to maintain its structure.

Once we confirm its coordinates, we can encircle and advance, gradually compressing its combat radius.”

As he spoke, his finger tapped the area circled in ink on the center of the map.

“Therefore, our action plan is ‘lure, divide, penetrate, destroy’.” He flipped the map to the next page,

revealing a detailed tactical diagram.

“Formal Knights, five to a group. Your mission is not to engage in decisive battle, but to disrupt.

Constantly attract the attention of the Worm-Eaten Household on the periphery, draw them to diverge, and absolutely avoid head-on clashes. Even if the Worm-Eaten Household are fast, they cannot catch up to your warhorses.

Do not linger in combat; prioritize your own preservation.”

The Knights nodded below the platform; this was a tactic they regularly practiced and were more than familiar with.

“Next, the Elite Knights will be divided into two groups.”

Louis turned and pointed to the arrows surrounded by two red lines: “The first group, the Frost Halberd City squad, is responsible for fla blockade.

Each of you will be equipped with three flasks of flaming oil. This is newly refined high-temperature distilled oil, and once ignited, its temperature is sufficient to burn through the Worm-Eaten Household.

Your objective is to set up a fire line around the Broodmother, blocking large-scale counter-attacks by the Worm-Eaten Household, creating a ‘The siege illusion’ (illusion of encirclent), forcing them to deploy their elite to the periphery, thereby opening a central breach.”

“The second group, the Red Tide Territory squad, will assault the core.” His finger pointed heavily at the deepest part of the map.

Louis took a wooden box wrapped in black cloth from under the table and snapped it open.

The bright red bomb bodies glead coldly in the sunlight, like so heart brimming with death energy.

“These are Red Platinum Magic Bombs, an alchemical achievent of Red Tide Territory.

They contain compressed high-temperature magic essence. Once detonated, they can create super-hot waves and impact within a three-ter radius. Even steel would lt, let alone a flesh-composed sac core.

Each assault Knight will carry two, and be equipped with short-barreled power cannons for launching.

You will infiltrate through the gaps in the Worm-Eaten Household, assault the core at the fastest speed, and retreat imdiately after completing the mission.”

He closed the blueprints, his gaze sweeping across the entire field, his voice firm:

“This is not a reckless gamble with your lives, but a rhythmic, coordinated, and winnable hunting operation. Of course, the most important thing is to complete the mission while preserving yourselves.”

After explaining the last page of the tactical map, Louis put down the pen in his hand, his gaze sweeping over every Knight present.

They did not speak, but all looked up at him, their expressions solemn and focused.

The air was filled with solemnity.

Duke Edmund, seated beside the main seat, had initially been observing quietly.

But now, his fingers unconsciously tapped the armrest of his chair.

The emotions in his heart were hard to calm.

“Such a complete tactical system, from battlefield structure, enemy and self-analysis to division of labor and cooperation—even I couldn’t have thought of a better counterasure.

I had thought he was just a fledgling youth; if he only charged recklessly, I could reclaim military power later. But now it seems—”

He smiled faintly, his eyes showing appreciation and relief.

This son-in-law could already stand on his own.

So the Duke was the first to applaud without hesitation.

The applause was not boisterous, but like a trumpet blast.

The Knights paused, then applauded one after another.

The applause went from scattered to uniform, armor clashing, the sound like mountain wind rolling snow, echoing throughout the entire training ground.

So Knights’ eyes had already lit up, with that long-lost gleam of willingness to die for a worthy lord.

Louis did not move, only raised one hand, palm down, and slowly pressed it down.

The applause ceased abruptly, as if the entire air also reined in its sharpness, condensing into a force about to erupt.

He looked at everyone, his voice not loud, but carrying a steady sharpness:

“I know you are all battle-hardened Knights, who have killed real enemies and seen the blood of comrades run dry.

But this enemy is different. They have no fear, no anger, no pain, and no surrender.

But we do. We have will, honor, and comrades to protect.”

He paused, his eyes sharp: “So we are not going to die; we are going to hunt a monster, sever its lifeline, and save the lives of everyone in the North.

But do not underestimate them, and do not retreat. So of us may be wounded, and so—may fall in the darkness.

But please rember, we are Northern Knights, the shield standing between this North and the abyss.

We do not fight for death; we fight for the living.”

Louis paused slightly, his gaze sweeping over the formation: “Now, return to camp and prepare. We depart at noon.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a unified response echoed from below the platform: “Yes!!!”