Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 191 Post-War Planning

Of course, the Duke of Edmund did not fully believe it at first.

He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head slightly, and scrutinized Eduardo with a sharp, piercing gaze.

His voice was calm and deep: "You said there were a dozen or so seeds. That means... this isn't the only mother nest."

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

"Yes." Eduardo did not back down; his answer was crisp and decisive, though a hint of weariness from the backlash of divine grace flashed in his eyes. "Those insect eggs did not appear by chance; they were planted by someone..."

A fleeting hint of suspicion crossed Edmund's eyes.

Are you lying?
He was one of the most powerful men in the empire, the Lord of the North, and a man accustomed to lies and betrayals on the battlefield and in politics.

Especially in tense moments, one should not easily believe a suddenly emerging "truth".

But he immediately realized something: the kid had no reason to lie.

Eduardo was a son of the Calvin family, Louis's half-brother, and the Calvin family had only recently formed a marriage alliance with him.

Saying such things now will not only bring you no benefit, but may even make you wary of their marriage alliance.

If this is a setup, what harm could it possibly do to oneself?

“Your Grace,” Louis said, adding fuel to the fire when he saw his hesitation, “I’m reminded of something. You once said that the insect plague three years ago was also incredibly rampant, but the insect corpses were nothing like the organized and disciplined ones we see now.”

He paused, then continued, "And now, these insect corpses are not only numerous, but also have clearly defined 'nests,' showing signs of sacrifice, organization, and unified action. Your Grace, do you think it might be... that they've grown from the same mother nest for three years? Or perhaps..."

“It’s a completely different ‘mother nest’,” Edmund continued, his voice low. “Otherwise, the change in behavior would be inexplicable.”

He closed his eyes, his thoughts churning. He began to ponder: if this were true, it would mean that at least two, or even more, undiscovered mother lairs existed in the North.

What kind of disaster would occur if these mother nests erupted at the same time?
The rebellion of the Snowsworn is nothing but swords and blades, and this is rot and despair.

“If there really are a dozen or so…” He opened his eyes, and in that instant, his gaze held a hint of suppressed fear, “the Northern Territory will cease to exist.”

The wind grew colder, and ashes and the stench of decay filled the air.

Duke Edmund stood in the wind, which swept over his shoulders with the embers of the decaying mother hive, like some kind of unseen omen.

His gaze was deep, his thoughts racing, like a cold machine forged for war, beginning to weigh, plan, and respond.

"A special operations force must be formed." This idea first took shape in his mind.

They must be absolutely mobile, absolutely loyal, and have the mission of eradicating mutations.

A special unit that can traverse the dark forests and swamps of the North, venture deep into dangerous places, and carry out the most secretive and dangerous missions.

Vic Granter, the Northern Blade.

It was he who led a team of thirty elite knights deep into the thick fog of the Corrupted Forest and found clues about the Mother Nest.

If Vic were still alive, he would be better suited than anyone else to handle what's to come.

It's just a pity.

Currently, I don't have any talent in this field, so I can only ask the Imperial Blood Pool for help.

Moreover, he had to report to his superiors. He looked up at the dim sky in the distance, as if the throne of the capital, shrouded in clouds and mist, was faintly visible.

Both the Emperor himself and the Imperial Council must be aware of this matter.

Even if it attracts too much attention, it's far worse than having information delayed or the truth concealed.

Then there were the local nobles of the North…

Each person controls key troops and resources, unless they are informed in advance.

If multiple mother broods erupt simultaneously, they probably won't even have time to react.

He originally wanted to focus on recuperation this year, but the current situation necessitates getting them moving and putting them into a state of wartime readiness.

While the Duke of Edmund, with a solemn expression, quickly outlined the imperial response strategy, Louis stood quietly to the side, also pondering the next step.

It is neither grand nor ostentatious.

His thoughts weren't as grand as those of a duke; they were simply focused on the Crimson Tide Territory before him and the six territories under his command.

Or it could be extended to the entire Xuefeng County; other places would be beyond his control.

Moreover, he would not expect others to save his land, nor would he entrust the Red Tide Territory, and the six sub-territories he had built brick by brick, to the promises of others.

The scorched earth of the battlefield had not yet cooled, but the memories of the Hive Focus were already coldly and clearly imprinted in his mind:

Burning, bursting, paralysis from insect swarms...

The prophecy states: "The evil spirits nurtured by the Vowers are stirring."

Now it seems that, most likely, it refers to the group of insect corpses and the mother nest that hatched from the abyss.

what does this mean?
It's very simple; all the preparations that follow must revolve around the mother nest.

He quickly listed several key pieces of information in his mind:

The mother nest fears high temperatures and flames.

Once breached, all the insect corpses will be paralyzed.

It can release mental disturbances and has a defensive mechanism that allows for the advancement of tentacles.

The only effective weapon currently available in the Crimson Tide Territory is the Crimson Amber Magic Bomb, which is in limited stock.

This is far from enough.

“We need to accelerate the research on new weapons,” Louis muttered to himself, his voice sharp as cold iron. “Not just the Red Amber Bullet, but also a flamethrower capable of penetrating the Mother Nest’s organizational structure, a distributed explosive guide… and even a complete reconstruction of Knight tactics.”

Moreover, this mother nest is not a complete entity at all; it is an experimental subject.

The real mother nest might be several times, ten times, or even a hundred times stronger than this one.

As for information about the Mother Nest, he had no way of knowing where to start; the being known as the "Witch of Despair" was simply too mysterious.

He could only hope that the daily intelligence system would push out more relevant information, or that the Duke would be able to find out something as soon as possible.

That's all for later. Strategy, weapons, enemies, Zerg hives—let's put them all on hold for now.

There's something more important right now: going home.

I need to go back and put the minds of those who are worried about me at ease.

Louis stood at the edge of the battlefield, looking in the direction where the ashes had settled, and instructed a few reliable followers to stay behind and handle the aftermath.

"Remember to seal off that area, and don't touch the remnants of the Mother Nest."

"All insect carcasses should be incinerated to prevent potential hazards."

……

He didn't say much, but every point he made hit the nail on the head.

So the group embarked on their journey home, the vast procession resembling a long, steel serpent, slowly making its way back to the Red Tide City.

By the time he returned to the city gate, it was already three-tenths darker than usual.

And sure enough, she was already waiting there.

Emily, dressed lightly, stood on the porch, her hands clasped together, her eyes revealing anxiety, caution, and barely suppressed emotions.

As soon as she saw the familiar black cloak emerge from the crowd, she rushed over like an arrow and hugged him without any regard for the occasion.

“You, you’re finally back… I…”

Her voice was slightly choked, and the tip of her nose brushed against his shoulder armor, as if to confirm whether he was still alive and standing in front of her intact.

Louis was surprised by her strong reaction. He paused for half a second before raising his hand and gently patting her head. "I'm back."

Lady Elena, standing on the veranda, covered her mouth and chuckled to herself.

"Oh dear, this isn't like our Emily at all. Isn't she usually the most dignified?"

“Mother!” Emily looked up abruptly, her face instantly turning bright red.

Seeing her flustered look, Louis couldn't help but chuckle, but still said softly, "I'm tired, I'll go back to my room and rest for a bit."

This was just the truth, but for some reason, the air suddenly felt a little awkward as soon as it came out.

Emily's face flushed even redder, almost from her neck to the tips of her ears, and she stammered, "Then...then I...I'll stay with you..."

Before she could finish speaking, she realized that what she said sounded too strange, so she quickly lowered her head and didn't dare to look at anyone.

Louis didn't react much, remaining calm as he walked into the house as if nothing had happened.

As she walked past Elena, she winked and whispered in Emily's ear, "Hmm... looks like I'm going to have a grandson?"

Emily: "Mother!!!"

Louis: "?"

…………

Flesh and blood are dripping.

No, it's the walls that are breathing.

It wasn't a stone cage, but rather a space that seemed to originate from the body of some enormous creature.

The walls were undulating, damp, and sticky, as if countless limbs and entrails were intertwined and piled up to form an arch, while the ground was covered with wrinkled, red and black tissue like rotting tongue coating. With each step, there was a gurgling pulsation in response.

In the center of this living hall—he sat on a throne made of spine and nerves.

Despairing Witch.

Stunningly long legs crossed, skin as pale as bone china, draped in a blood-red dress tattered like a spider web.

His features seemed to have been sculpted by a god, so exquisite that one dared not look directly at them.

However, those eyes were lifeless, like glass marbles floating in stagnant water, devoid of any human warmth.

When he opened his mouth, it was not a woman's voice, but a deep, soft, almost gentle male voice.

Like a lover's whisper, but with a distorted tone that makes one want to vomit.

"...Oh, bad news."

He had already sensed that the insect hive had been destroyed.

"We still found out...tsk tsk tsk."

He frowned slightly, as if somewhat annoyed, but only for a moment.

The next moment she chuckled softly, the curve of her lips almost harmless: "Well, it's okay."

The walls of flesh and blood trembled with her laughter, as if in resonance.

"That was just an experiment that was supposed to fail... It was only supposed to fail. To blow up a half-finished product like that, tsk, what a barbaric way of handling it."

He lowered his head, playing with a section of the insect's limb that was still twitching in his hand, as gently as if caressing a lover: "However, the 'finished product' is almost complete."

His tone was light and cheerful, like a child anticipating a gift. With a sudden flick of his fingertips, the insect limb exploded into a mist of blood, splattering onto her face. She took a deep breath as if she had applied perfume, revealing a dazed expression.

"At that time... every inch of the North will become my 'stage'."

He rose slowly, his long dress trailing on the ground, his steps light, like a noblewoman about to attend a banquet.

The camera slowly zooms out.

His "audience" was filled with rows of figures, some human, some non-human, all of whom were already dead, their bodies reshaped into a bizarre, lifeless form.

Some had distorted faces, some had cracked skulls, and some even had their faces replaced with chimeric shells.

One of the figures knelt motionless, a huge hole in his chest, but his silver-black armor and grayish-blue pupils...

It was still recognizable as the fallen Northern Blade, Vic Granter.

(End of this chapter)