Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 279 War Preparedness Meeting
Inside the castle study, a fire burned softly in the fireplace, casting a red glow on a corner of the stone wall.

Outside the window, the streets were cleared of snow, and the residents were shoveling and repairing in an orderly manner.

Thanks to thorough preparation, this winter has been exceptionally peaceful, with almost no major incidents.

Louis finished working on the last report at the long table and let out a long sigh of relief.

During the winter, he usually stayed in his study to work and no longer went out to inspect.

This is not only because he is lazy, but also because he knows that the foundation he has laid is enough to support a peaceful winter.

At that moment, the door was gently pushed open.

Sif walked in, wearing a thick woolen cloak, her eyes smiling: "Would you like to go to the greenhouse? We... have cultivated something very different."

Her smile was mysterious, and her tone couldn't hide a hint of mischief.

Louis was taken aback, and he already had some guesses in his mind.

He pretended not to understand, gently closed the book, but couldn't suppress the smile on his lips: "Alright, now that the work is done, let's relax a bit."

…………

Inside the greenhouse, a faint aroma of mint and earth filled the air, and a warm feeling enveloped the room.

This is Emily's own renovated greenhouse, used for indoor flower cultivation. The flowers and trees are arranged in a staggered pattern, and vines grow along the framework, creating her own little world.

Emily stood in front of the flower stand, clutching a small velvet bag in her arms. She looked unusually nervous, her lips slightly pursed, as if waiting for a certain "correct reaction" to come.

Louis pretended to be clueless as soon as he walked in: "What's wrong? Did you really come up with some new variety of flower?"

Sif chuckled and moved the potted plant beside her: "Open it and see for yourself."

Louis took the package, his eyes filled with a puzzled look of "playing along."

Upon gently lifting the lid, he saw an embroidered baby handkerchief, a pair of soft velvet boots, and a hand-drawn note.

The paper is a silhouette of a family of four, with a small question mark drawn on the head of the little baby in the middle.

Emily's voice was barely audible, but her eyes were filled with tenderness: "We... are going to have a baby."

He already knew about the prophecy, but hearing it from Emily's own lips still stirred his emotions.

A second later, Louis suddenly picked Emily up and spun her around in the greenhouse, like a triumphant young man.

"What did you say? Say it again!"

Emily blushed like a ripe apple: "I'm pregnant...it's true."

He was so excited he was almost incoherent: "I, we, you...this is wonderful, wonderful!"

After putting her down, Louise still held her stomach gently with both hands, his eyes red.

Sif stood to the side, intending to make a joke, but her smile froze when she met those red-rimmed eyes.

Louis suddenly pulled her into his arms and held them tightly together.

Sunlight streamed through the glass of the greenhouse dome, falling on the shoulders of the three of them.

Beyond the cold winter, the seeds of spring have already been quietly sown.

…………

Louis did not publicize the news about the child.

He only notified three people, the first two being the Duke of Edmund and the Duke of Calvin.

The main purpose was to let them know that the family bloodline had continued, and to see if they could get some gold coins.

The third person to know was Bradley, the old butler, who was asked to settle some related matters.

Louis knew better than anyone else that behind this joy lay a heavier responsibility.

He was no longer just a ruler or a fighter, but a father.

Finally, there is someone in this world whom he must protect to the very end.

However, with the daily updates from the intelligence system, the situation in the north became increasingly clear and increasingly unsettling.

After compiling and categorizing the intelligence gathered over the past few weeks, he finally sketched out the profile of a key figure: Titus Frostleaf.

The former leader of the Frostfire tribe seized power through a bloody coup and forcefully incorporated the four major barbarian tribes: Broken Axe, Red Rock, Blazing Fang, and Mysterious Horn.

The "Frostfire Legion" has been formed, with a conservative estimate of its strength between 30,000 and 40,000.

The unit is characterized by fanaticism and extreme uniformity, with a tough military style and extremely high combat will and emotional appeal.

Such efficient incorporation of "legion-like barbarians" with alienation capabilities is unprecedented.

Moreover, he seems to have acquired an unknown spiritual power, the "Burning Heart Vine Garden," which can influence the mental state of his subordinates.

There's still very little information about it; we can only piece it together from multiple pieces of intelligence...

It's like an ecological structure, nourished by emotions and spread by anger, gradually eroding the mind and beliefs of living beings.

Manipulating emotions, infecting alien beasts, commanding frost giants...

The more Louis looked, the colder his expression became.

Between spring and summer, a truly large-scale war is bound to break out.

Perhaps Titus will advance from the Frostlands straight into the Empire's controlled territories, destroying the remaining order in the North.

Regardless of the circumstances, the Red Tide Territory must protect itself.

…………

Inside the stone-built operations room, the brazier burned with the scent of pine resin and wolf oil, and candlelight cast flickering shadows.

At a long table covered with parchment, Louis was sketching marks on a rough map with a quill pen.

"...They are getting restless."

He straightened up, his voice low, and scanned the Red Tide Legion commanders and vice-commanders standing on either side.

"Most of the Frostfire tribes in the north have been integrated. Shattered Axe, Red Rock, Blazing Fang, and Mystic Horn... have all been incorporated. According to intelligence estimates, the Frostfire Legion now has more than 40,000 troops."

At this point, he put down his quill and pressed down heavily on the northern border of the map.

“This cannot be an ordinary barbarian raid.” He slowly looked at everyone. “It is a war, a long-planned all-out war.”

Silence filled the room. They had finally had a good New Year, but unexpectedly, war was about to break out again.

“You mean…” Lambert frowned, “they’re heading south?”

“And it’s very likely that it will launch as soon as the snow melts next spring.” Louis nodded. “We don’t have much time.”

He pointed to the intelligence record beside him, on which were drawn simple arrows in thick black ink, indicating possible attack routes of the barbarians.

Louis paused, his gaze turning cold. "According to intelligence, they have acquired some kind of ability that can incite anger and madness in people, and even control frost giants." "Frost giants?" Lambert repeated in a low voice, the wrinkles on his face seeming to deepen even more than before.

“Exactly,” Louis replied.

“What we must do,” he said, swiping his quill pen across the northern outpost defenses, “is to keep them out, to stop their first assault, and to prevent them from collapsing.”

Silence fell over the crowd, and the air seemed to grow heavy as the firelight flickered.

"I suggest extending the wolf sentry and hidden sentry lines." Northern Regiment Commander Heller was the first to speak, tapping his knuckles on the table. "The reconnaissance range must be expanded. The northern treeline and wind-cut canyons must not be missed."

“I advocate setting up three lines of fire walls and barricades in advance,” Lei Sha, deputy commander of the Western Regiment, immediately agreed. “Especially around the Frozen Spring Pass. If the infected break through there, the entire supply line will become as fragile as paper.”

Louis nodded slightly, and the recorder wrote down what they had said on parchment.

“And there’s Red Leaf Ridge.” Tur, the tactical officer of the Southern Regiment, stood up, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible anxiety.

“We originally only set up outposts, but if the enemy sends a raging giant, even just one, it could uproot that watchtower on the cliff. I suggest deploying at least two magic explosion crossbow towers, equipped with high-explosive magic attacks.”

“Red Leaf Ridge is too far, and the transport line is too long,” the deputy commander of the Eastern Regiment, Will, retorted. “The production capacity of magic explosive bombs is already tight. Sending more over there will only deplete the main city’s reserves.”

Tull remained unyielding: "If we don't even have an early deterrent, how many more people will we have to die when the fighting starts?"

Will snorted coldly, but said nothing more, staring at the map with his brows furrowed.

"I suggest deploying psychic bombs in the southwest," said Wei Lanjie, the vanguard commander of the Northern Army, his tone more serious than his usual joking and frivolous manner.

“The infected will quickly gather as they approach that area, and we need to disrupt their emotional core. Even just a few dozen seconds of chaos can give us a chance to catch our breath.”

Everyone offered their suggestions, but they were all scattered and disjointed, lacking any coherent system or method.

"I've noted down everyone's opinions." The recorder bent down to gather up several pages of parchment he had been writing down at lightning speed. His wrists were sore and numb, but he dared not stop.

Louis's gaze swept over the people at the table, and his tone became low and powerful: "Everyone's opinions are very good, so... let me talk about my own plan."

The room suddenly fell silent.

Resa folded up the half-open map, sat up straight, Heller stroked his chin and fell silent, Lambert pushed aside the wine glass with the quill pen in it and nodded slightly...

The firelight reflected on Louis's profile, illuminating his unwavering eyes.

He stood up, his fingertips lightly tracing the northern border before landing heavily on a dark red intersection on the map.

"Within a hundred miles of Crimson Tide City, no Frost Giant may set foot near it."

He switched hands, laid a simplified deployment sketch on the table, and circled it with a charcoal pencil.

"What we're going to build this time is a three-line defensive belt." He spoke slowly and deliberately, but his eyes were sharp as knives.

“First, the outer defensive line.” He tapped his finger stick lightly in the northwest direction.

"Focus on deploying magic explosive minefields, along with folding barricades and burning fire walls. Make sure the enemy's first wave of attack suffers maximum chaos and casualties."

“Second, the center circle.” He picked up a small flag from the table and planted it behind the defensive line.

"Heavy crossbow towers and magic-explosive bullet patrol cavalry will be tasked with suppressing the Frost Giants and Aberrant Beasts, and should be prioritized for elimination."

"Third, the inner circle, which is also our last line of defense."

He said, word by word, "The steel beast platform, the hook spear formation, and the magic explosive projectiles work together to form a network of firepower to lock down the zone. Any alien beast legion that tries to break through must be torn apart here."

He spoke slowly, as if unraveling a simple puzzle.

With each word spoken, everyone felt a little more at ease.

“Our biggest trump card is still the magic explosive bomb.” Louis turned to look at the group. “The combination of various bombs must be optimized. Whether it’s fire bombs, freeze bombs, shock bombs, or even poison bombs, make use of them all.”

As he spoke, his fingers moved slightly, and a row of small wooden markers bound with hemp rope were moved towards the mountain pass and valley at the northern end of the map.

"Special forces teams have also begun to deploy. The Frost Howl team ambushed Snow Ridge Pass to disrupt the enemy's offensive rhythm and prioritized the decapitation of the guide."

The Flame Breath Group consists of three people per team, responsible for patrolling the front lines and ensuring that no area is missed. If they can hold the line, they can seal it off.

The Crimson Frost Squad has been re-equipped with heavy ammunition; their sole strike must cripple the enemy's backbone.

He stopped, let out a long sigh, finally sat back down in his chair, looked down at the map, and then slowly looked up again.

"We will not fight a protracted war," he said. "We will fight a decisive blow and not allow the enemy to cross the line."

No one spoke in the room.

There was a quiet, but not a heavy one; it was more like the final stand before the drums of war.

The legion commanders, who had previously looked tense, now had a clearer sense of purpose on their faces.

Heller sighed softly, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.

Leisha tapped her nails lightly and pondered for a moment: "...Then what are we waiting for?"

Lambert muttered, "This battle will be fought so badly that they'll never dare to look south again."

The crowd stared silently at the map, its dense markings, lines, and heavily inked defensive lines.

Their eyes no longer hesitated, for the great lord had already arranged everything.

Inside the operations room, the flickering candlelight illuminated the contours of each face, some serious, some resolute.

The recorder put away the last page of notes, nodded quietly, indicating that he had written everything down.

The moment the pen fell to the ground seemed to mark the end of the meeting.

Thus, the border war in the Red Tide Territory quietly took shape in this war room lit by an oil lamp.

“Alright,” Louis put away his fingertip, his voice as steady yet firm as ever, “this meeting is adjourned.”

His gaze swept over each legion commander, his tone softening slightly but still sharp: "Take everything I just said to heart. Now, it's your respective battlefields."

The crowd responded in unison, "Understood."

They then stood up and, in turn, gave him a solemn knightly salute to express their loyalty.

Under the firelight, figures clad in leather armor and thick cloaks left the operations room one after another. Pushing open the door, they were met with a biting wind carrying snowflakes, yet not one of them flinched.

As everyone walked away, the thick wooden door slowly closed in the cold wind, and silence returned to the combat room.

Only Bradley and Louis remained at the long table.

The old butler leaned forward slightly, poured a cup of warm wine, and asked in a low voice, "Sir... shall we still hold the Spring Festival celebrations as usual this year?"

Louis paused, his gaze falling on the map on the table. After a moment, he nodded slightly. "We must do it. People are constantly working hard; they can't go without a holiday to catch their breath. It's time for everyone to get together again and recharge."

Bradley smiled with relief and nodded respectfully: "Then I will arrange it according to your wishes."

After saying that, he stepped out and gently closed the door.

The fire still burned, casting Louis's silent profile as he sat there, seemingly contemplating the impending crisis beyond the distant snowstorm.

(End of this chapter)