Louis slowly walked out of the banquet hall. The cold wind blew, carrying away the sll of alcohol and the greasiness of roast at from indoors.
He gently exhaled, a slight curve on his lips.
This banquet was even more boring than he had anticipated.
Zachary Diaz was indeed nothing special.
He thought he could control these pioneering nobles, relying on a few nice words and so small favors to make them willingly charge into battle for him.
But what was the reality? The look in those nobles' eyes had already begun to change.
At first, they did indeed flock around and fawn over Zachary, like a group of obedient sycophants.
But with his words, the seeds of doubt had been planted.
Was what Zachary said truly for everyone? Or was it just for himself?
Once such a question arose in their minds, it was difficult to ignore.
"Hahaha, Boss, you were so cool just now!"
Yoen hurried to catch up, his face full of excitent, "You didn't see Zachary's face, it was glowing green! I bet he wanted to bite you to death right then and there!"
"Oh?" Louis raised an eyebrow, "Too bad, he doesn't have the guts."
"Of course!" Yoen nodded repeatedly, laughing gleefully, "After all, you are a young master of the Empire's Eight Great Families, even if he is too, it's just so-so."
As he spoke, he imitated Zachary's manner of holding a wine glass, raising his chin in a feigned noble gesture: "Oh, Duke Calvin, unity is very important!"
Then he imdiately changed to an expression of disdain, waving his hand: "Bah, what's with the act, it's disgusting!"
Louis couldn't help but laugh out loud.
This guy was quite good at adding fuel to the fire.
Thinking of Zachary's ashen face just now, Louis's mood brightened a bit.
However, he shouldn't be too smug.
This was just the beginning.
If Zachary was smart, he would try to repair his image.
He might even turn around and use this banquet incident to slander him, further solidifying his position.
But if he was foolish, he would rush to retaliate against him.
"Hey, Boss, do you think he'll send soone to cause you trouble?" Yoen leaned over and asked in a low voice, "The more I think about it now, the more I feel like he might be planning sothing big."
Louis swung onto his horse, smiling softly: "I hope so."
"Huh?" Yoen looked confused.
Louis didn't rush to answer, but instead looked around at the knights and soldiers of the various noble families stationed outside the banquet hall.
Although the knights' armor wasn't luxurious, it was at least well-maintained, and their cloaks were embroidered with their family crests, clearly showing so sense of honor.
But their mounts were not good; many warhorses looked underfed.
As for the common soldiers, they were even worse off; their armor was tattered, and their weapons were rusty.
Not to ntion their ntal state; so soldiers huddled in corners to keep warm, while others leaned listlessly against the wall, their eyes unfocused.
Those on guard couldn't stand steadily, and those on patrol were listless, as if they could be blown over by a gust of wind at any mont.
Could such an army fight against the Snowsworn?
Louis shook his head and couldn't help but laugh: "Yoen, what do you think, what kind of combat power can such an army have?"
Yoen followed his gaze and scanned around, then imdiately scoffed: "Haha, Boss, now that you ntion it, it's true!"
Although his own knights and soldiers were in pretty much the sa condition.
But he had seen Louis's troops just a day ago.
The armor of the Red Tide Territory knights was shiny and clean, their weapons were as sharp as new, and every warhorse was plump and strong.
Even the common soldiers could follow orders strictly and quickly change formations.
They were simply worlds apart from these soldiers and knights.
Listening to Yoen's flattery, Louis smiled faintly.
He knew very well that Zachary Diaz was able to win over these southern nobles not by strength.
But by their shared predicant, being abandoned by their families.
These pioneering lords were basically marginalized individuals within their respective great families who were not valued.
They were sent to the North, not for them to achieve great deeds.
Rather, they were abandoned to the North by those families to comply with the Emperor's Northern Expansion Order.
Louis knew this so clearly because he himself was one of them.
Of course, he was different from them now.
Others were truly abandoned when thrown into the North.
But he, relying on his efforts, knowledge from his previous life, and the Daily Intelligence System, had embarked on a path to greatness.
His father, Duke Calvin, also increased investnt in Red Tide Territory after seeing his achievents.
His territory was as barren as this place, and his soldiers were as undisciplined as these.
But after a year of training, rectification, and planning, the Red Tide Territory's army had begun to take shape.
The Red Tide Territory's army was no longer an ordinary pioneering army, but a force capable of fighting even in the North.
After laughing, Yoen leaned in closer, lowering his voice: "Boss, I don't an he'll send soldiers to fight you, but that he'll go to Countess Firth and report you."
Louis scoffed: "Report ? Let him say what he wants, I already have a counter-strategy."
He tugged on the reins, his tone relaxed: "Let's go, gather your knights, and I'll take you to earn military rits."
"Military rits?" Yoen was stunned, then imdiately reacted, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) "Wait... wait! What exactly are you going to do?"
Louis didn't answer, but instead squeezed his horse's belly directly, urging it forward.
"Hey, hey, hey, Boss, at least explain clearly! Hey! Wait for !"
Yoen hurriedly pulled his reins tight and chased after him.
Thus, the two, with their knights, headed straight for their camp.
...
Shiro sat at the long table in the tent, his fingers unconsciously tapping the edge of the wooden table.
His gaze fell on the intelligence in front of him, which clearly stated: "Duke Edmund is gathering the Northern lords, preparing to march out and eliminate the Snowsworn."
Shiro repeatedly read these words, his eyes revealing a nearly hysterical light.
"It's finally here..."
His voice was hoarse, as if forced out from deep within his throat.
Then he slowly extended his hand, looking at his slightly trembling fingertips.
These hands had personally buried his mother.
Countless painful mories flooded his mind, yet he smiled.
He laughed softly, then louder and louder, until it was almost maniacal.
"It's ti, it's ti for blood debts to be paid with blood!"
However, a sudden gust of cold wind lifted a corner of the tent, and the coldness pierced to the bone.
Shiro's laughter abruptly stopped, his body stiffening slightly.
In his ear, a soft male voice sounded, with a hint of reassurance: "Don't rush, Shiro."
He turned his head sharply.
The candlelight flickered in the tent, illuminating a slender and graceful hand gently resting on his shoulder.
The fingertips were icy cold, as if without a trace of warmth.
The eerie male voice slowly sounded again: "The ritual to awaken the ancient god of the cold abyss is still missing the last step."
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