The morning light in the North was always late, and outside the window, the snow scene remained silent.
But Louis, the Lord of Red Tide Territory, was already awake.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing that ca into view was a head of blue hair, like the reflection of an ice lake, softly draped over the quilt, resting quietly in his arms, breathing evenly, with a slight curve to her lips.
He turned his head slightly, and there was another touch of white; a short-haired silver-haired girl was curled up on his other side, still holding his arm, sleeping soundly, with a slight frown, as if feeling the cold.
“Ah, the morning of a North Lord is just this simple and unadorned,” Louis sighed.
He did not disturb his two wives beside him, quietly turning over and sitting up.
The heavy snow was still falling, and the underfloor heating rolled beneath his feet, warmth enveloping the bedroom; he put on a thick cloak and walked barefoot to the desk.
Snowpeak County had indeed stabilized quite a bit recently.
Since most of the Mother Nests were attracted to Frost Halberd City, the entire North's focus was now concentrated there.
And Louis’s “remote mountain range” had, instead, beco the only safe zone where one could still breathe.
The Worm-Eaten Household gradually diminished, and the defensive line was stable, making him, the Lord, uncharacteristically idle.
Of course, this “idleness” was limited to not having to rush around.
Louis rubbed his temples, and in his mind appeared piles of urgent letters from various nobles in the surrounding counties, with their “requests for support” and “letters of surrender.”
But he didn’t have the spare capacity to expand, nor the interest in being the North’s savior.
“Expansion? Rescue? I’m not part of the Imperial Knight Order; guarding my own small territory is the right path.”
Louis knew very well that being able to guard his own small territory in Snowpeak County was the greatest victory at present.
And during the period when his own “defense system” was fully operational,
Louis could finally withdraw from the front line, return to Red Tide Territory, and fulfill his duties as a husband.
To save precious ti, he even worked two shifts every night.
Emily quickly accepted, and Sif was initially a bit shy, but with Emily's persuasion, she also joined in.
Of course, besides the task of procreation, Louis had an even more important daily compulsory course: recording daily intelligence and then deducing the overall war situation.
More than a habit, it was his ultimate weapon in this world’s struggle.
Louis raised his finger and lightly tapped the void.
Accompani ed by a slight hum, a blue-white translucent interface appeared in the air.
“Daily Intelligence System Update Complete”
“1: Dragon Blood Legion will arrive at Frost Halberd City in seven days.”
“2: Supre Mage personally led the Archmage group to Frost Halberd City and will assist Duke Edmund in dealing with the Doomsday Mother Nest.”
“3: Fifteen days later, the Doomsday Mother Nest was destroyed by multiple parties working together, but at a heavy cost.”
“Hmm.” Louis was not surprised by the first item. “They’ve already been traveling for twenty-seven days since leaving the Imperial Capital; arriving in seven days counts as full speed.”
Louis murmured to himself, quickly jotting down this intelligence in his notebook.
The second piece of intelligence made Louis pause slightly.
He certainly knew that Archmage Flora had contacted Magician Forest for help several days ago, and according to her words, a support team composed of high-ranking mages would indeed co to reinforce Frost Halberd City.
But what he didn't expect was—
“Supre Mage?”
This na was not the first to appear in the intelligence system, but this ti its aning was completely different.
Louis repeated it softly, his eyes gradually narrowing.
This na was the true “pinnacle” of the mage world, not a subordinate of the Empire, nor a guest elder of so Grand Duke’s family, but the “Supre Being” in the mouths of many mages in that mysterious forest.
It was said that he was both the guardian of Magician Forest and the judge of all magical principles, mastering the oldest and most powerful spells accessible to humans.
“One of the strongest mages in the world, actually ca out personally.” He leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his fingertips on the desk.
“Has the threat of the Doomsday Mother Nest reached this level?”
However, Louis recalled what he had seen firsthand on the front lines: ruined noble castles, entire knight orders swallowed, and those tide-like Worm-Eaten Household corpses, and the Mother Nest emitting ntal attacks.
If he hadn't relied on the system’s early warning to get the Duke and Frost Halberd City to enter a state of readiness, this disaster would have probably spiraled out of control long ago, even affecting the entire world.
“At that ti, this wouldn’t be a regional war, but a ‘world-class magic disaster’.” Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but exhale a cold breath.
“Having such powerful assistance isn’t a bad thing.” At this thought, Louis involuntarily smiled slightly, “At least he’s not on the Mother Nest’s side.”
He marked this intelligence as °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° “high-level” and recorded it in his notes.
Then his gaze fell on the third seemingly calm piece of intelligence, which was like a sharp blade, instantly cutting off his thoughts:
“15 days later, under the combined efforts of multiple parties, the Doomsday Mother Nest was destroyed, albeit at a heavy cost.”
He froze for a mont, then suddenly stood up.
The chair slid open with a screech, and he stared at this information, the expression on his face becoming more complex than ever before.
“The Doomsday Mother Nest—was eliminated?”
“Fifteen days later?”
He murmured softly, as if confirming this wasn't so illusion.
Then, he slowly revealed a smile: “We—won.”
That North land, which had driven countless people to despair, those cities and villages groaning in the night, would finally usher in the end of this war.
The Red Tide defense line he personally built had held!
He had held on!
This nightmare, which seed to swallow everything in the North, could ultimately be endured.
Louis pressed one hand on the desk, lowered his head, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, as if exhaling the gloom that had weighed on his heart for several months.
But his brows did not relax.
“Heavy cost—” He slowly sat down, repeating the last word of the information again.
These four words were more unsettling than any bad news.
Who sacrificed? Which legion? Which lord? Was the Duke still there? Did Frost Halberd City still exist? Was Red Tide Territory also...
The Doomsday Mother Nest would eventually be destroyed; this was good news.
But the question was, by whom was it destroyed?
And at what cost?
More importantly, since victory was possible in the future, did he, in the present, have a way?
After much thought, Louis finally decided to personally travel to Frost Halberd City.
“How could the Doomsday Mother Nest be eliminated so easily?”
He stared at the concise text displayed by the Daily Intelligence System, his gaze as sharp as a knife.
The more understated the victory, the more often a chilling price was hidden behind it.
Logically speaking, that vague future intelligence most likely didn't refer to the instant destruction of the Mother Nest.
It was very possible that after being besieged by the Dragon Blood Legion and the Supre Mage, it fell into a severely damaged state, and then the Frost Halberd defense line delivered the final blow.
At that critical juncture, the fruit of victory would erge from a pool of blood.
And at such a ti, if soone could “arrive on the battlefield” at just the right mont, “make an effort” at just the right mont, and then “survive” at just the right mont—
Then, whether from the Empire’s military rit system or the noble reputation chanism, it would be a surefire profitable deal.
To put it simply—he indeed intended to “gain military rits” in the chaotic battle.
If the North’s chaos were to be quelled, all the generals and soldiers who participated in the campaign against the Doomsday Mother Nest would be recorded in history.
If he could gain the title of “Participating ritorious Official,” it would be of significant importance for him and Red Tide Territory’s future influence within the Empire.
But this wasn't all.
To put it broadly, this was his chance to contribute his last effort to this war.
Could he help his difficult but truly reliable father-in-law, Duke Edmund?
Could he save so of the remaining North forces that were on the verge of being swallowed?
More importantly, he held the most unfair trump card on the entire battlefield:
The Daily Intelligence System.
This system had allowed him to escape countless disasters, avoiding fatal destinies ti and again.
He believed that as long as this blue-white interface existed, he would survive.
The worst-case scenario?
“Just run.” He smiled unreservedly, even going through the retreat route in his mind.
Of course, Louis couldn’t just set off so foolishly.
Relying solely on the Daily Intelligence System to “gain military rits” on the front line? That would be underestimating himself too much.
He never believed in fate, nor would he completely entrust life and death to vague future prophecies.
If he was going, he had to prepare.
And the first step, naturally, was the Fire Scale Magic Bomb.
Frost Halberd City was facing the Doomsday Mother Nest; ordinary fire weapons might not even scorch its skin.
He had to bring sothing “fierce, hot, and big enough.”
So, he walked into Silco’s laboratory.
The entire room was filled with various pungent slls, and that dangerous atmosphere as if “one more drop of lamp oil and this place would go up in flas.”
On the laboratory table, crucibles were gurgling, and a reagent bottle with a silver tube inserted was bubbling purple.
Silco was concentrating on concocting so mysterious liquid, muttering like a madman.
“Silco, how many materials do we still have for Magic Bombs?” Louis asked directly. Hearing the familiar voice, Silco turned: “We still have so materials. If we exhaust our resources, we can probably make five or six large Magic Bombs.”
Louis pondered for a mont, his tone surprisingly calm: “Don’t make five or six.”
“...Huh?”
“Concentrate the materials,” he raised a finger, “and make only one.”
“Use every ans at your disposal to make this one the biggest, strongest, and hottest. I want an ultimate Magic Bomb that can blow through an entire valley.”
As his words fell, the air was silent for half a second.
The next second, Silco trembled, as if he saw the Goddess of Bombs reaching out to him from the flas.
“...Your request is truly inhumane, Lord.”
Then he slamd the table, making the bottles and jars jump high, excited like a child who had just received a torch: “Good!
I, Silco, guarantee to complete the task! If this thing doesn’t explode a miracle—I’ll write my na backward!”
“Get to work.”
“Yes, Lord! Get ready for fireworks!!!”
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