Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 128 Numbness
"So, Lord Louis, why did we have to escalate things to this point?"

Seeing that Louis remained silent with a cold expression, McKinney became even more certain of her thoughts.

He immediately raised his head, revealing an extremely obsequious smile: "I am truly repentant! If you would be so kind as to grant me money, women, territory, and resources, I will give them all to you!"

Red Tide Territory and we've always been good neighbors, there's no need for this little misunderstanding..."

"Kill him." Louis, somewhat annoyed, simply uttered two words.

The voice was so calm it was almost imperceptible, as if it were reading an insignificant announcement.

"Huh? I'm a nobleman! You...you can't just kill me like that..." McKinney froze instantly, his smile seemingly shattered by a slap, standing there with his eyes wide open.

But as soon as he said those words, even he felt they were hollow.

He only inherited his brother's barony by luck; he was young and no one had ever taught him how to govern or how to fulfill his responsibilities.

He thought that as long as he put on the skin of a nobleman, no one would dare to touch him, just because he saw his father and brother looking so imposing.

He bullied men and women and oppressed the common people, and no one ever punished him for it, so he thought that this was the privilege of the nobility.

Until today, until that young nobleman, younger than him, who had fought his way out of his fiefdom on the battlefield, stood before him and issued the order to behead him.

"puff!"

The blade slashed down cleanly, and blood splattered high into the air, spraying onto the snow.

McKinney's head rolled onto the snow, his face still frozen in a look of utter horror.

His mouth was open as if he wanted to argue again, and his wide eyes were fixed on the front, as if he never understood why, even in death.

How could this be...? This isn't following the expected pattern!
The Crimson Tide Knight shook his sword, flicking away the blood, glanced coldly at the corpse, and then silently retreated to the side.

McKinney's head finally came to rest at the feet of the remaining knights.

The pool of blood slowly spread, revealing faces filled with utter shock.

"This...this is impossible..."

"He...he actually killed Lord McKinney!"

An older knight swallowed hard, then immediately dropped his weapon and knelt down: "I surrender! We are willing to submit to the Red Tide!"

"Lord of the Red Tide Territory! We...we surrender! We are willing to pledge our loyalty! We...we are willing to serve you to the death!"

"Lord Calvin, spare us! We had no choice!"

"Yes, yes, we were forced by McKinney! We will swear to serve you to the death from now on!"

At this moment, their eyes no longer held any semblance of knightly dignity, only endless terror and humble pleading.

But Louis merely glanced at it, his eyes full of disdain.

These people are not qualified knights at all.

Their swords had long been corrupted by wine and meat, and their minds had long been rotten to the core by extravagance and greed.

They may seem humble and submissive now, but given the chance, they will surely turn into venomous snakes that retaliate.

Moreover, each of them had personally attacked the Red Tide Territory's grain convoy.

Keeping such people around will only corrupt the morale of other soldiers and sow the seeds of future trouble.

“Leave no one alive.” Louis’s tone was as indifferent as still water as he waved his hand.

"Yes!"

The Crimson Tide Knights charged forward like a whirlwind, their swords gleaming with a chilling light.

"Run! Run!" a knight under McKinney's command roared, his voice trembling.

Before he could finish speaking, a spear pierced his chest, lifting him high into the air, spraying blood like rain.

"Ah!" Someone tried to raise their sword to fight back, but before they could swing it, their head was split in two by a heavy axe, and they didn't even have time to scream.

Many more people grabbed weapons and tried to escape, but they were already surrounded by the Crimson Tide Knights. Their swords clashed like the scythe of death, swiftly reaping lives.

The sounds of chopping, cracking bones, and gushing blood mingled together, then quickly returned to deathly silence.

In the castle square, the corpses of more than seventy knights lay strewn across the ground, their blood staining the thick snow and filling the air with a pungent, oppressive smell.

A purge was swift and thorough, and McKinney's remaining followers were completely wiped out.

The battle ended too quickly.

Will sheathed his longsword and stood in the blood-stained castle square, gazing at the corpses scattered everywhere, a hint of undisguised disappointment in his eyes.

He had always fantasized about following Lord Louis into battle and fighting valiantly.

But who could have imagined that this so-called "expedition" would turn out like this?

Aside from protecting him, he didn't encounter any decent enemies at all.

"Is this... over?" Will muttered to himself, feeling a sense of lingering regret.

Louis glanced at him and casually said, "What, disappointed?"

"Ah...no, it's not..." Will hurriedly composed himself, but he couldn't hide the hint of desolation in his expression.

Louis gave a slightly amused look: "Let's go, since you haven't had enough of fighting, come with me for a walk."

Will was taken aback, then straightened his back abruptly: "Yes! Lord Louis!"

The wind and snow howled, carrying fine ice particles that struck the armor with a crisp sound.

Louis walked slowly forward through the snow, his gaze sweeping over the dilapidated street.

Will silently followed beside him, cautiously observing their surroundings.

This is the residential area of ​​Baron McKinney's estate.

At first glance, the area around the castle is no different from other territories in the North.

But the closer you get, the stronger the nauseating stench of decay becomes, carrying a chilling sense of death through your breath.

Several dilapidated houses stood by the roadside, their door frames long since broken, and their windows covered with thick frost. Through the cracks in the doors, one could see several huddled figures inside.

They were wrapped in a few tattered rags and huddled in a corner.

His eyes were empty and lifeless, staring straight at Louis as if he were looking at a passerby who had nothing to do with them.

But no one moved.

No one cried for help, no one hid, and there wasn't even the slightest reaction.

It was a look of utter numbness; they were already destined to live this rotten life.

The appearance of another stranger won't change anything.

This is the true North.

Other places might be a little better, but not by much.

The Red Tide Territory is different not because it is lucky, but because of Louis's existence.

Inside the room, a boy was chopping up a dead rat with awkward knife skills.

Black water was boiling in a ceramic pot next to it, with a ring of oil stains around the edge of the pot.

Behind him sat a row of even smaller, thinner children, their expressions blank, sitting listlessly in the corner of the room.

Wel silently observed everything before him, his fingers already gripping the hilt of his sword.

Those houses were filled with nothing but huddled corpses, souls long since dead.

In another house, a broken wooden bucket was filled with snow water and rotten vegetable scraps, which served as the residents' dinner.

At the corner of the street, several corpses lay naked on the ground against the wall, utterly devoid of dignity.

A stray dog ​​came along and tore open one of the bodies, exposing the stark white bones.

“This…” Will began in a low voice, but he didn’t know what to say.

Something suddenly surged up from the depths of my mind.

That was almost a year ago, when he and his mother were imprisoned in the slave trader's cellar.

The food was just a clump of slush mixed with snow and chaff.

Every day was spent enduring cold and hunger, and every night one could hear people crying, wailing, or dying.

Back then, he was also curled up in the corner, hugging his mother, staring blankly into the darkness.

I don't know if they're waiting for a miracle or waiting to die.

He didn't want to recall it anymore.

But the land before him, the people, the numbness and despair in their eyes, were like a mirror, reflecting his past without any discrepancy.

If it weren't for Lord Louis...

He and his mother are probably still in that place.

Or they might have frozen or starved to death long ago, and been left lying on the roadside without even a grave.

“He’s the one who pulled us out of that place.” Will took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but he couldn’t help feeling a lingering fear.

He was deeply grateful to Lord Louis, who had pulled him and his mother out of hell.

Because Wel had experienced these things himself, he couldn't bear to see them.

I can't bear to see those people, like him back then, abandoned in a living hell, silently waiting for their end.

Will slowly turned his head to look at the tall figure beside him.

He didn't speak, but his eyes clearly asked: You'll definitely do something, right?
Louis stood in the wind, his eyes fixed ahead.

He saw the corpses exposed to the wind, the numb, stiff eyes, and the children's clenched fists and uneasy gazes.

Even in the North, such a tragic situation is extremely rare.

Louis suddenly felt that killing McKinney outright would be a bit of a waste.

He let out a soft breath, knowing what he had to do.

Then he turned around and, in his temporary tent, picked up his pen to write a letter to the Duke of Edmund.

The letter was very simple, totaling only a few hundred words, and could be summarized into three points:
McKinney colluded with bandits to attack the Red Tide food distribution team; the evidence is conclusive.

He had brought his men to demand an explanation, but McKinney fiercely resisted and died in the battle.

The situation in their territory is extremely dire; the people are like walking corpses. Your Excellency, please decide on the next course of action.

The tragedy described here, if simply written truthfully without excessive embellishment, is enough to make the reader frown.

As for the claim that he "died in battle," Louis was not trying to evade responsibility.

He never felt that he had done anything wrong.

McKinney deserved to die; he was utterly wicked and died too late.

Louis knew that among nobles, there was a certain degree of "being able to justify one's actions."

Even if the other party is a scoundrel, he is still at least a baron, so you can't openly say, "I don't like him, so I'll kill him with my sword."

So he gave a barely acceptable reason.

Although there are still some flaws, it at least gives Duke Edmund a reason to believe it.

Whether the Duke believes it or not is not his concern.

After writing and sealing the letter, he stepped out of the tent and summoned the swiftbird that had accompanied him.

Louis hung the letter on its ankle and watched it take flight, disappearing into the gray sky.

(End of this chapter)