Louis watched the Snowsworn being dragged away for execution in the distance, while Yoen chattered beside him.
The guy was now full of admiration, his eyes shining like a puppy seeing its owner, circling Louis as if wagging his tail.
Yoen smiled obsequiously, "Boss! If it weren't for you this ti, I probably would have lost my life to these desperadoes!"
"You're truly my second parent! Back in the Imperial Capital, I knew you were no ordinary person! And now you're indeed this amazing!"
"Less flattery." Louis glanced at him, frowning, "Why are you here?"
"Huh? Didn't I co to be a pioneering lord?" Yoen said righteously.
Louis stared at him with so confusion, "Given your background, you shouldn't have been sent to the Northern Region."
Yoen pouted and replied as if it were obvious, "I voluntarily applied to co."
"Ha?" Louis was choked by his words, wondering if he had misheard.
"Anyway, my family's benefits wouldn't reach , so I might as well run far away." Yoen shrugged, saying casually.
"Besides, you're here too, I figured following the boss is better than being a boring younger son at ho."
"Your old man agreed?"
"Of course not! But I voluntarily submitted a pioneering application, and the Emperor approved it very quickly." Yoen snorted proudly, "Now I can't not co."
Louis was silent for a mont: "..."
The Northern Region, which others avoided, he actually volunteered to co?
"I've already chosen my territory next to yours, so in the future, we brothers will dominate the Northern Region together, making those who looked down on us unable to reach us!" Yoen patted his shoulder, grinning as he leaned closer.
This directly amused Louis, who shook his head and asked, "Alright then, how many resources and people did you bring?"
"You underestimate , how could I not be prepared?" Yoen patted his round belly, looking confident.
"Over six hundred people, including craftsn, soldiers, and serfs, basically self-sufficient, and the old man will send more later."
Then he looked left and right, leaned closer to Louis, and whispered, "And I also have four thousand gold coins."
Louis was stunned, instantly feeling as if he had been struck by lightning.
Four thousand? This was ten tis his current family fortune!
"Truly worthy of being a newly rich noble." Louis couldn't help but exclaim.
Yoen chuckled, clearly very proud of his wealth.
He pulled out a heavy gold pouch and ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) slapped it into Louis's hand with a thud, "These are just a small token, Boss, you must accept them, otherwise I'll feel bad!"
Louis looked down at the large bag of gold coins, which he estimated to be over fifty, his mouth twitching slightly, and he looked up at Yoen, "Do you take for a rcenary?"
"Don't say that! This is my respect for you, Boss!" Yoen waved his hands repeatedly, his face serious, "You saved my life, what are these gold coins?"
Louis sighed helplessly, but still accepted the gold coins, as he was indeed a bit poor at the mont.
"Then why don't you co to my place first and have a good al?"
Yoen waved his hand, "Not yet, I need to settle my people first."
"Alright, co over when you're done."
Then Louis chatted with Yoen for a while longer before preparing to lead his team back to Red Tide Territory.
Yoen stood in front of the camp, waving and laughing, "Boss, take care, I'll co find you for a drink once I'm settled!"
Louis looked back at him, smiled, said nothing more, and rode away with his knights.
Yoen watched them leave.
It wasn't until the figures of the team disappeared into the mountain path that he retracted his gaze and shouted excitedly to his knights, "Full speed ahead towards our territory! Let our conquest begin!"
The knights looked at each other, and could only reluctantly agree.
...
The cold wind howled, and the hidden camp of the Snowsworn was nestled among the Northern Region mountains.
Several Iron-Blood Empire nobles were hung upside down on a strange altar, twisting in pain.
Their mouths were gagged with rags, allowing them only to stare in despair, their bodies marked with several prominent wounds.
Blood seeped from the wounds, slowly flowing down their cheeks into the altar carved with strange runes.
"ancient god of the cold abyss, please grant us the blessing of revenge..." The priest chanted in a low voice.
Suddenly, a nauseating, low squirming sound ca from underground, seemingly responding to the priest's plea.
Imdiately following, a chilling cold perated from the fissure.
The corpses on the altar began to wither rapidly, their flesh seemingly devoured by an unseen presence.
The nobles' eyes burst, blood flowed from their seven orifices, turning them into shriveled remains.
Shiro, standing high above, looked down indifferently at everything on the altar, his face expressionless.
His gaze fell upon the pool of blood, as if through it, he saw his mother lying in a pool of blood many years ago.
Forty years ago, the Iron-Blood Empire's cavalry trampled their holand and burned their royal court.
He, as a young boy, huddled in the shadows, able only to watch his mother being dragged by soldiers, impaled by a sword, his eyes filled with resentnt and pain.
Thinking of this, his fingertips tightened slightly, and murderous intent surged.
Elder Grom walked slowly, draped in a heavy gray animal skin cloak, deep worry hidden in his cloudy eyes.
"Shiro, a team hasn't returned." His voice carried uneasiness.
Shiro's gaze returned from the altar, and he said in a low voice, "I know."
Elder Grom was silent for a mont, but eventually spoke, "If this continues, we will eventually run into trouble."
Shiro gave him a cold glance, "Blood for blood."
Grom sighed, then whispered, "That Northern Barbarian Witch has ill intentions, she's rely using our hatred to pave the way for her tribe!"
Shiro's gaze was cold, his voice low, "If she can give us weapons, give us a chance for revenge, then what does it matter?"
"Then what do we gain? I only see our warriors slowly diminishing!" Grom slamd his staff fiercely, his tone unusually sharp.
"Enough!" Shiro's face darkened.
Grom wanted to say more, but Shiro had already waved his hand, saying coldly, "Take him away."
Two Snowsworn warriors imdiately stepped forward, firmly seizing Grom's arms and dragging him backward.
Grom did not struggle, only looked deeply at Shiro, finally sneering, "You will regret this."
Shiro did not look at him again, turning his gaze to the gradually extinguishing bonfire.
His mother's dying monts resurfaced before his eyes: blood, screams, the cold smiles of Imperial soldiers...
"Blood... for blood." He murmured again, his voice as low as the icy cold wind.
The fire completely extinguished, and Shiro's eyes also faded into the night.
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