Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 278 I'm going to be a father?!
Night fell over Shattered Axe Hill, and a cold wind blew into the camp from the ravine, stirring up the ashes of the dying embers.

In the center of the camp, a tall flagpole adorned with angry floral patterns fluttered in the wind, its scarlet and black stripes resembling the pupils of some ferocious beast, making it impossible to look directly at it.

The barbarian elder, Ortan, stood on a high slope, draped in a heavy horned fur cloak, overlooking the entire camp.

A chaotic circle of figures formed around the edge of the camp, and amidst the flickering firelight, flashes of blades appeared.

It was a group of young people from the Hongyan tribe fighting again in the middle of the night.

They punched, kicked, bit, and roared, showing no regard for tribal rules, like a pack of wild dogs set ablaze with gunpowder.

Over the past few months, there have been countless incidents, and nine out of ten of them end up resulting in death. Strangely, no one has stopped them; it's as if they've tacitly approved of it.

This made Ortan's heart tighten, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong. He wasn't a coward, but these nights he felt increasingly unable to fall asleep.

Not only from the outside world, but also from the sense of irritability and violence that seemed to be quietly growing in his heart.

He has become increasingly irritable lately, often yelling at young soldiers, and even the crying of his relatives' babies can make him grit his teeth.

He knew this was abnormal, but he couldn't control it.

This sentiment appears to have begun after Titus launched the war against the Shattered Axe tribe.

Since that battle, on this barbarian land that has gradually fallen silent, the old totems have been burned little by little, turned into ash and buried in the soil.

Instead, a new black flag with colorful flowers was erected.

With thorns as its stem and scarlet flames as its petals, it stands tall and unyielding in the center of the four camps of Shattered Axe, Red Rock, Blazing Fang, and Mystic Horn.

In just a few months, Titus had incorporated the four major tribes and controlled tens of thousands of soldiers.

On the surface, each conquest resembled a traditional tribal war, with the first battle being fierce and bloodshed rampant.

Strangely, the war did not last long; the day after the war, the enemy began to "voluntarily" surrender.

Moreover, those who surrendered often carried an inexplicable sense of high spirits, as if they were surrendering not to the enemy, but to something higher and purer.

Ortan initially thought it was just worship of the strong.

But now he's not so sure; it's not simply being conquered, it's more like being infected.

It was like an emotion born of anger, transcending tribal lineage and customs, branding itself into the very bones of everyone.

…………

Deep in the snowfield, a valley is formed by the interweaving of perpetually frozen bones and ice.

This is the sacred land of the original Blazing Fang tribe, "Bone Snow Valley". In the center of the valley, the original totem poles have long been smashed and burned, replaced by a high platform wrapped with deep red vines and iron stones.

At the very center of the altar, a colossal shadow roars and struggles.

It was a frost giant on the verge of death but still retaining its consciousness. Its bone armor was jagged, and dozens of black iron chains were wrapped around its body. Each chain was inlaid with a burning mark, and residual heat slowly seeped out from the gray snow.

Its eyes were tightly bound with thick black cloth, so it could only roar with its head raised, and a mountain-like roar came from its throat, the sound waves causing the snow at the bottom of the valley to slide and break.

Titus stood on the altar platform, looking down at the giant with his head down. His face was as cold as iron, but his eyes gleamed with an abnormally fanatical light.

He slowly raised his right hand, and a deep red vine stretched out from his palm, like a hungry eye, constantly wriggling, as if craving a host.

"Become my weapon..." he murmured, his voice carrying a chilling gentleness, as if he were comforting a lover rather than commanding a beast.

The giant beneath his feet was still struggling, roaring and uttering indistinct ancient words, carrying the divine lingering echoes of resistance, pain, and loss.

The lieutenant stood to one side, his face grave, and still tentatively asked in a low voice, "Your Majesty... this giant's madness is still untamed. Should we wait for the high priest to stabilize him?"

Titus's gaze flickered slightly, and then he slowly turned his head.

“...No need,” he said.

His voice was extremely soft, but in that instant, the Blazing Torrent seemed to obey a command as it snaked out and swiftly pierced the flesh beneath the giant's collarbone. Amidst the splattering of blood, the Flower Crown trembled and began to greedily devour, parasitize, and expand.

The moment the "Burning Mourning Vine" pierced through like a sharp spear, the Frost Giant's body convulsed violently, and blood mixed with frost gushed from the wound, quickly freezing into patches of scarlet ice spikes on the ground.

He roared to the sky, but the roar lasted only a moment.

"Click—click, click..."

Then the skin on the giant's back suddenly bulged up, as if something was struggling and writhing inside.

Several jagged joints bulged out forcefully beneath the muscles and frosty skin, accompanied by a nauseating tearing sound.

Thick vines burst from the skin on its shoulders and sides of its spine, winding like branches around its limbs and entangling its entire body.

A strange burn mark appeared on the giant's forehead, which was originally as smooth as ice.

Those were the marks of the ceremonial crown, like branding iron totems burned onto it, gleaming with a scarlet glow in the cold wind.

His roar suddenly stopped.

The furious roar was replaced by a muffled, hoarse growl.

Vague, repressed, almost a murmur, the language is indistinct, yet it subtly conveys obedience and responsiveness.

Those giant eyes, which were originally as blue as an ice river, were now bloodshot, with red pupils and a lifeless, empty gaze.

He slowly turned around, his movements heavy yet resolute, as if drawn by invisible threads, and slowly lowered his head toward Titus on the stone platform.

Titus watched this scene silently, like a god looking down upon the creation he had personally rebuilt.

He leaned slightly forward, his voice low and gentle, like a lover's whisper: "Very good... you can hear the anger."

When the parasitized frost giant finally knelt down with a roar, vines climbed up its back, and floral patterns appeared on its forehead like branding irons.

The surrounding barbarian warriors were momentarily at a loss, but soon their fear turned into worship, and they all knelt down.

Titus stood on the high platform and shouted, "We will have a legion of giants!"

A roar of cheers erupted through the valley, a mixture of fear, fervor, and weeping.

But no one questioned why the frost giant had empty eyes and stiff steps.

All doubts were completely drowned out by the clamor and excitement surrounding the "miracle".

Amidst the commotion, Titus's gaze suddenly became unfocused.

The low bass voice reached his ears again, like the rustling sound of vines moving under his skin, as if mocking him.

He suddenly grabbed the breastplate of the adjutant beside him, lifting the man off the ground, his eyes burning with an almost manic rage.

Are you... laughing at me?

The lieutenant turned pale, denied it in terror, and shook his head repeatedly.

Titus stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly sneered and tossed him aside: "Very good. Go capture more Frost Giants. The more the better. I want the entire North to kneel before me."

The order was given, and the various barbarian tribes set out for war under their blood-red banners.

Like a storm scorched by fury, they swept deeper into the snowfield, hunting down every survivor of the ancient race.

It wasn't just the giants; the first batch of "blessed" beasts appeared in the camp one after another.

Icefield wolves, snowfield deer, ice-digging apes, night foxes... none were spared.

Their skin was cracked, and strange vines throbbed beneath their flesh. They spewed out putrid red gas from their mouths and noses, and their eyes burned with fury, exuding an extremely unnatural rage and deformity.

They were chained to various parts of the camp, the chains clanging and rattling, howling and raging incessantly.

Like a living curse, struggling between the iron cage and the stakes.

However, not a single barbarian warrior avoided them; instead, more and more people approached the monsters.

Some people watched, some donated blood, and some even went up bare-handed to fight them, as if testing their strength.

They laughed as they climbed up from the iron cage, their faces covered in blood but without complaint, simply to vent their boundless rage.

These strange beasts had long lost their reason, yet they seemed to share some kind of invisible will.

The cries were a mixture of pain, anger, and some inexplicable longing, as if the heartbeat of the entire camp was trembling violently.

The roars were deafening, disturbing the entire night, yet no one felt fear. Instead, more and more warriors approached the iron cages before dawn, roaring in response to the beasts, mimicking each other, and even beginning to vaguely imitate their postures and cries.

They no longer distinguished themselves from wild animals.

Some people have bloodshot eyes, some have tiny thorns growing on the tip of their tongues, and some kneel silently in the middle of the night, whispering words that no one can understand.

Like a sleepwalking wild beast, or a servant chanting scriptures in a dream.

Until one night, when the first roar rang out, it was not only the monster in the iron cage that responded, but also the living people.

Unbeknownst to anyone, or rather, no one was willing to notice, this was actually a spreading sacrifice.

…………

Deep winter has finally arrived in Red Tide Territory.

The red rooftops on both sides of the main street of Red Tide City were covered with thick snow, heavy yet not messy, as neat as carefully crafted pastries.

Early risers were already pushing wooden shovels to clear the snow from the streets, the shoveling sound echoing everywhere.

People were tying pine branches and red ribbons to lampposts by the roadside; this is a tradition they have only recently revived.

The children ran laughing across the snowdrifts, wrapped in thick cloaks, their faces beaming with joy.

This winter is not as difficult as in previous years.

The grain in the granaries was distributed in an orderly manner, and firewood, kerosene, and medicine powder were distributed promptly.

Even at the market held every seven days, fresh cured meat and salt-dried fish are sold.

For the first time ever, many households were able to simmer meat broth in their pots during the winter, filling the air with a delicious aroma.

People often say, "Thank you, Lord Louis, for providing us with hot meat in this freezing weather."

For Louis himself, this year was perhaps a rare opportunity to catch his breath and take a break.

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, falling on the dark red bed curtains and carpet.

Emily and Sif had already gotten up, and the lingering scent of their dresses had dissipated, leaving him alone in bed.

He let out a soft breath and took a rare nap.

For the sake of creating more people, last night... I did put in quite a bit of effort.

Louis rolled over and raised his finger, gently drawing an arc in the air. A semi-transparent intelligence interface immediately unfolded before his eyes.

[Daily intelligence update complete]

[1: A group of armored bears has been spotted in the northern part of Mailang Territory.]

[2: Titus uses the Scorching Vines to control a frost giant, whose rage is out of control, and it kneels to obey his commands.]

[3: Emily is pregnant. She is expected to give birth to a son for Louis Calvin in ten months.]

The first piece of intelligence that caught Louis's eye revealed an undisguised joy.

"...Finally found it."

He murmured, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.

The Ice Armor Bear, a magical beast that can be considered a rare treasure of the Northern Plains.

Two years ago, he personally led knights to hunt down a group of them. That was the most important battle in the early days of the Red Tide Territory, when resources were scarce.

That armored bear almost became the cornerstone of early resource accumulation.

He remembered clearly that the bear meat was carefully marinated and roasted to enhance his fighting spirit. The bear claws and fangs were forged into a batch of incredibly sharp, cold steel weapons.

The most precious item, of course, is the blue silver crystal cut from its crystalline spine. It contains immense energy and is a top-tier material for alchemy and magic.

Louis used those crystals to make the magic bomb.

He still remembers the moment of detonation, the deafening explosion that tore through the air and blasted hundreds of Snow Oath warriors to ash.

“…One of the best core materials for the magic explosion bomb.” He pointed to the location name on the intelligence report, a smile playing on his lips.

Moreover, the Crimson Tide Territory is no longer what it used to be. With Frostleaf Vine Elixir and a well-trained Beast Taming Knights, it already possesses the ability to capture and tame Ice Armor Bears on a large scale.

This is not prey, this is an opportunity.

He had already quickly drawn up the list of candidates, the deployment routes, and the pilot training plan in his mind, and even which alchemists should be assigned to participate.

Then let's look at the second one: Titus controls a frost giant with the main vine of the Scorching Court...

Louis's eyes narrowed, and the joyful smile that had been on his lips froze instantly.

“Frost Giants…” Louis squinted, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

He wasn't unfamiliar with this monster; in fact, he had slaughtered it.

They are strong, extremely strong, but stupid. Anyone with a brain is not difficult to deal with.

But what if they stopped being stupid?

If the Frost Giants also had command, tactics, and teamwork...

What made all this possible was the barbarian tribe that was now increasingly resembling the "new king"—Titus.

This name has appeared more and more frequently in intelligence reports in recent months.

From the initial barbarian leader to gradually incorporating the four major tribes of Shattered Axe, Red Rock, Blazing Fang, and Mysterious Horn, the army grew to over ten thousand, and military discipline gradually took shape.

It gradually made him feel anxious, and now... there's an added sense of real threat.

Louis leaned back in his chair and gently exhaled a puff of white breath.

"This is no ordinary barbarian riot..."

He knew that if Titus truly mastered the method of controlling the giants, it would be equivalent to having an extra living battering ram, a combat resource not bound by conventional tactics.

If these frost giants are controlled in large numbers, the North may very well face a true "war trampling".

He knew he needed to dedicate some of his time to developing countermeasures.

Even more dangerous is the name behind it: Burning Heart Vine Garden.

His pupils contracted slightly as his mind raced through fragments of information he had collected through the system in the past.

The Scorching Vine Garden... is not a method recorded in the known magic books of the Mage Forest, nor does it resemble conventional sorcery or witchcraft.

It's more like some kind of erosive, demonic ecosystem, perhaps some kind of creature, or something somewhere between a plant and a curse...

It's somewhat similar to the Mother Nest... He even wondered if this was something the Witch of Despair had researched.

His face darkened completely.

If even giants can be tamed, then... who will be the next to be infected?
Will there come a day when the entire "new barbarian race," driven by rage and madness, along with those demonic behemoths, will shatter the borders of the Red Tide?
This thought caused Louis's eyes to briefly turn cold.

We can't wait until that day to take action. We need to prepare contingency plans in advance.

Relying on yourself alone is not enough.

He had already written to Duke Edmund in advance, selectively reporting some of the intelligence he had "inadvertently acquired."

Use careful wording, emphasizing the need for the other party to be more vigilant and strengthen their defenses.

These thoughts flashed through my mind, lingering for only a few seconds.

Louis's gaze then quickly fell on the third piece of intelligence.

"Emily is pregnant. She is expected to give birth to a son for Louis Calvin in ten months."

At that moment, the icy chill seemed to be dispelled by the spring breeze.

His mind went blank for a moment, then he sprang up from the bed, his voice filled with disbelief and joy: "I'm going to be a father?!"

(End of this chapter)