Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 179 Investigation
Gray clouds hung low, as if the entire sky was holding its breath because of some ominous premonition.

The smell of scorched earth mixed with the stench of a corpse rotting for days, cutting through the sense of smell like a knife in the wind.

Occasionally, a breeze would blow by, bringing with it a smell that was like a mixture of corrosive metal and rotten eggs, sticky like asphalt, making one want to vomit.

The vegetation was completely withered, and even the usual birdsong in the forest was absent; a deathly silence enveloped the dense forest ahead.

Vic stood before the blockade line, behind him were twenty elite knights clad in dark silver armor, standing silently in formation.

A knight on duty quickly stepped forward, blocking the way, and said sternly, "This is a restricted area; unauthorized personnel are prohibited from entering."

Vic was not annoyed. He simply took out an iron token from inside his cloak, engraved with the sun mark of the Crimson Tide Lord.

"Your lord sent me," he said calmly.

The garrison knight's expression changed instantly, and he immediately dropped his guard, clasped his hands and bowed, saying, "Please forgive my rudeness, sir. Please come in."

"Hmm, it's nothing," Vic replied casually, stepping inside.

Passing through several layers of cordon, he looked around at the desolate, scorched mud and the strangely clean scene...

There were no rotting corpses, no signs of tearing; it was as if everything had been "erased."

A knight dispatched by Louis to this area came to report: "From the beginning until now, no creature has been found approaching this area, and the signs of battle have stopped here."

"No other findings?" Vic glanced at him, his tone flat, yet making the man feel uneasy.

The knight bowed his head: "...Yes."

Vic didn't speak, but just looked down at the ground beneath his feet.

He noticed that the surface of the land had cracked from being scorched by high temperatures, and the surrounding grass was withered but not burned, indicating that the location of the blockade was very accurate.

“The quarantine lines are drawn very well,” he said, his tone affirmative.

He then took out a thread-bound notebook from his waist and quickly jotted down a few comments.

This will be included in his official intelligence report to the Duke of Edmund.

After taking notes, he slightly raised his head and looked towards the depths of the black soil in the distance.

“Alright.” His voice was as steady as iron. “Next, we’ll take over the investigation.”

Passing through layers of scorched earth and the stench of decay, Vic slowly stepped into the center of the forest clearing.

This place used to be a dense forest, but now the branches and leaves are withered and the soil is scorched.

It was as if some kind of soul-devouring calamity had lingered here for a moment before vanishing without a trace.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, drew his sword, tapped it on the ground, and whispered, "Activate."

In an instant, the fighting spirit within his body circulated, flowing along his blood vessels to his eyes, skin, and even every pore.

Crimson lines appeared on the skin below the neck, as if they were alive.

His world changed as a result.

The colors fade, leaving only a world of ripples with varying degrees of warmth and coolness.

The dense forest before him seemed to transform into a gray silhouette, while countless subtle traces of residual heat, lingering magical fluctuations, and the paths of air movement all appeared in his eyes.

He "saw it".

Three figures moved swiftly and rapidly through the forest, their cloaks billowing and their staffs radiating a mixture of scorching heat and chilling light.

Their positions were spread out but coordinated in an orderly manner, with one person leading the attack, one controlling the situation, and one suppressing the enemy.

The spell explosion left faint blue ripples in the air, spreading like water.

Directly in front of them, several enormous and strange heat sources crawled out. They were neither metal nor flesh, and their writhing movements were nauseating.

It leaves corrosive marks on the ground, has an eerily high temperature, and its trail spreads out with spiderweb-like cracks, melting at the slightest touch.

Those were individual insects in the swarm, moving with incredible speed, their breathing chaotic yet possessing a certain precise coordination.

"It really is them."

A faint light flickered in Vic's eyes, and grayish-white wriggling traces were reflected in his pupils.

He spoke in a very low voice, as if talking to himself: "And... it has evolved."

He slowly walked to the edge of the battlefield, squatted down, placed his palms on the ground, and a wisp of cold battle energy seeped into the soil from his fingertips.

It's not about searching for temperature, but about reading the "path".

"These insects...didn't just randomly rush in."

Following the faint traces of corrosion and heat, he witnessed an even more terrifying truth in a world "beyond sight."
The swarm's movement followed a fan-shaped trajectory, clearly indicating that it had been "controlled" or "guided".

They bypassed certain obstacles, attacked in batches, and most importantly...

Even after their deaths, they actively collected wreckage and cleaned up the battlefield, leaving almost no traceable evidence.

“Not a beast… it is…” Vic stood up, his eyes cold.

He remembered that nightmare three years ago, where thousands of corpses, like a tidal wave, crushed the entire elite Northern Army into a bloody pulp through sheer numbers and parasitic traits.

Although the swarms of insects at that time were terrifying, they were like wild beasts, out of control, chaotic, and without any order.

This time, however, it resembled an "army".

“More covert…more efficient,” he murmured.

An ominous thought flashed through my mind.

He pulled a notebook from his waist and wrote a few words on a tattered page:
"The swarm's behavior is becoming more organized, suggesting it may be a test organism."

He did not voice this conclusion.

After all, if someone could control the swarm, it wouldn't be a defensive battle, but a harbinger of a war of annihilation.

At this moment, his senses had not yet subsided, and his brow twitched slightly.

"...?"

A faint aftershock lingered in the air, stretching southwestward until it almost disappeared, though not yet completely cooled. It was the trace left by the fleeing insect swarm, invisible to the average person, but imperceptible to his keen eyes.

“They didn’t leave completely.” Vic’s gaze turned cold, then instantly returned to its stern expression. “All personnel, on combat readiness. Head northwest, pursue them.”

The adjutant was taken aback: "Sir, we haven't..."

“The investigation here is complete,” Vic interrupted him, his voice calm but cold. “Let’s go.”

Vik took the lead and stepped into the depths of the dense forest.

Without hesitation, the twenty elite knights quickly lined up and followed, like a cold spear piercing into the desolate forest.

A silent hunt was about to begin.

…………

The magic candlelight burned quietly.

The gray-blue flames reflected on the obsidian wall, and cold gazes were cast upon Leisir.

He stood in the center of the "Secret Council Hall," wearing a flowing robe that symbolized his identity as the Silver-Masked Mage, his face pale.

My left hand unconsciously pressed against my chest, where I used to feel a burning pain as if insects were crawling on me, and it still felt like it was churning under my skin.

Hidden in the shadows above the layers of steps is the council of mage elders.

Seventeen ancient mages, old yet still brimming with magic, silently watched the young man who brought back news of calamity.

On the highest platinum seat, a person sat silently, wearing a pale silver robe, his face obscured by the brim of his hat.

That was the Supreme Mage—the highest being in the entire Mage Forest.

Lyhill knelt on one knee, his voice hoarse, yet each word was clear.

"Report begins. Flavia, Mordi, and I have arrived at the northern border of the Ironblood Empire to investigate the disappearance of Archmage Jurgen..."

Then we were attacked. Six insect warriors, perfectly coordinated, fearless of magic, fearless of death, their fighting instincts undiminished…

Flavia has been parasitized, retaining her memories of magic and combat, but she doesn't recognize either of us at all..."

Leisher recounted everything in detail.

Without embellishment or deletion, it was as if he had dissected himself and laid naked before the elders.

Aside from the fact that he taught Louis magic.

If one were to say that "I taught magic to a lord without permission," even in the name of "repaying a debt of gratitude," it would inevitably invite skepticism and accusations. One can only proceed cautiously.

There was a moment of silence in the elders' seat.

The gazes of the seven grey-robed figures swept over Lysir, like invisible mental barriers cutting, analyzing, and dismantling him.

"The kind of 'insect corpses' you mentioned... we have no records of them." An older female mage finally broke the silence, her tone tinged with wariness. "Are you sure what you saw wasn't an illusion? Or perhaps, a delusion caused by some kind of mental parasitism?"

“I’m not crazy.” Leahy looked straight ahead, his expression as calm as iron.

“Speaker,” he said, calling softly.

The next instant, a blue-silver magic-patterned box, its magic sealed, floated up from his sleeve and landed in the center of the hall.

“This is… taken from inside my body.”

Click.

The sealing runes shattered like chains, and a faint green light spread out in the air.

It was a dead insect.

No bigger than a palm, twisted yet exquisite, its joints as regular as a metal structure, its hair-thin limbs still bearing some kind of corrosive saliva. Most terrifyingly, the insect's eye was not completely dry and seemed to be still slightly turning.

"This is...from inside you?"

“It was alive before I lost consciousness. The doctors in Red Tide Territory removed it surgically, and I sealed it away with my last bit of magic. It tried to burrow into my spine.” Leisier stared down at the insect, his voice like a blade slicing through ice.

For the first time, the Magic Council was thrown into chaos.

Whispers and mental waves mingled in the air as the elders engaged in a rare and heated discussion.

Some advocated for a complete cover-up to prevent panic from spreading, while others proposed setting up a special research group...

Beneath the purple and silver mask, the Supreme Mage remained silent throughout.

He simply sat quietly, as if he were one with the secret council chamber, as if his silence carried more weight than anyone else's words.

The elders' voices gradually lowered as the speaker's gaze fell upon him for the third time.

The Supreme Master slowly raised his hand.

With a light tap of the fingers, a deep sound was heard.

It wasn't magic, it wasn't a spell, it was just a simple strike, yet it felt like a heavy hammer hitting the very heart of the entire secret council hall.

"This insect swarm event was not an isolated incident."

He finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, yet carrying an undeniable authority.

"The Mage Forest will officially dispatch a Grand Mage-level personnel, leading an elite team, to the Northern Territory to investigate the truth."

All four were shaken.

The elders fell silent and nodded slightly in agreement.

Leahy stood in the hall and finally let out a barely perceptible breath after a long period of tension.

He didn't show any obvious expression, but the tension in his heart finally eased at that moment.

Not because he received praise, nor because he was saved, but because:

The danger he tried so hard to convey was finally heard.

(End of this chapter)