Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 362 Crimson Fireworks (Part 2)
"That guy! It's him! The Lord of the Crimson Tide!" Kalk's roar was particularly jarring amidst the chaos.

He swung his battle axe violently, and blue battle aura exploded into waves of flames around him: "Come with me and kill him!"

As soon as the words were spoken, five figures imbued with deep blue battle aura leaped up simultaneously, like five hungry wolves pouncing on their target.

Kalk was joined by the core force of Uru's troops, all of whom were the strongest warriors of the barbarian tribe.

In their tribe, they are all powerful warriors capable of tearing through battle formations on their own. Among the barbarians, their names represent the glory of being invincible.

The air vibrated with a low rumble, the floor tiles cracked inch by inch, and flames and blood mingled.

Louis stood still, his gaze as cold as a mirror.

Upon seeing this, Kalque was overjoyed, thinking that the young count had been frightened into a stupor.

"Success!" He could almost see the burning corpse in the next moment.

However... just as the attack arrived!
[Bloodline Talent - Absolute Defense] activated.

Will took a deep breath, and with the rhythm of his breathing, a faint red glow appeared on his skin.

The light instantly spread into a translucent shield, enveloping him and Louis, like a flowing red curtain of water.

The surrounding air suddenly froze.

The wind stopped, dust hung in the air, and even the sound of the explosion seemed to be swallowed up.

The moment the blue flames collided with the red curtain, five strikes hit simultaneously.

boom--!
The shockwave caused the corridor's vaulted ceiling to collapse, sending stone chips and blood flames flying everywhere.

The floor tiles beneath Will's feet shattered into a spiderweb pattern, his knees sank slightly, and his face turned pale, yet he still held on tightly.

The shield was as thin as water, yet as strong as steel.

The five beams of blue light exploded on the outer layer of the shield, but didn't even leave a crack.

The two figures under the red light seemed to be isolated in another world, the only peaceful place in the chaotic battlefield.

"How is this possible! This is impossible!"

Kalk and the others stared in shock at the shield, finding it unbelievable that the full-force attack of their five extraordinary warriors had been blocked.

That was their clan's strongest combined attack, a power capable of cutting down anything!

Although they didn't know what kind of skill it was, the barbarian warriors, seeing Weil's pale appearance, knew that this defense wouldn't last long.

So they roared again, swung their weapons once more, and unleashed their full fighting spirit, trying to break through the red shield.

Will gritted his teeth and persevered, his blood churning within him. He said anxiously, "Sir... we should retreat. I can't hold on much longer!"

He slowly stepped back, trying to protect Louis as he left, but the young man remained standing still, his expression indifferent.

Louis glanced at him briefly and said calmly, "No need."

He raised his hand, and a crimson fireball ignited in his palm.

The simplest magic, yet so profound it seems capable of devouring everything.

Because deep within the heart of the flame lies the power of the "Burning Vine Garden," a power of subtle black vine patterns writhing within.

He did not chant; the flames spread through the air like silent flowers.

The next second, the bodies of the five extraordinary barbarian warriors were simultaneously engulfed in flames. The eerie flames, carried by their battle aura, continuously invaded their bone marrow, causing excruciating pain.

But all they could do was grit their teeth and roar in retaliation.

The roar shattered the air, like the dying howl of a wild beast.

"Aaaaah! Kill him!"

"Break! Break it!"

Their voices were hoarse and distorted, as if they were trying to resist the flames themselves with a roar.

Their fighting spirit burned, blue flames swirling with blood energy, crashing against the red shield again and again like a storm.

The air trembled, and the sounds of explosions, screams, and roaring flames intertwined to create a cruel symphony of death.

The sounds of fists shattering and screams of agony as people were swallowed by waves of flame rose and fell.

"This is impossible! This is impossible!" Kalk roared, his blue battle aura exploding once more, accompanied by a furious cry of pain and fear.

Will watched this scene through the shield, the red light reflected in his eyes, and he could almost hear the air trembling.

He felt that power was devouring the opponent's fighting spirit, the blue flames gradually faded, and the flames began to backfire on their lives.

They were being burned alive… he whispered to himself, his hands trembling but suppressed by awe.

Outside, Kalk's figure swayed, his roar gradually turning into a hoarse howl.

"Ah! No! No—!" His fighting spirit was being drained away by the eerie flames, the blue light was dimming little by little, and his physical strength was also disappearing.

The feeling of being hollowed out drove him almost mad, yet he still raised his battle axe and kept hitting the protective layer.

The next moment, his body was engulfed.

The other soldiers let out heart-wrenching screams, their voices mingling into a hellish chorus.

Someone roared, "Mother!"

Someone scratched at their burning chest with their bare hands, their fingernails breaking and their flesh charred black.

The blue battle aura was finally engulfed by the crimson flames.

Their fighting spirit completely collapsed, their armor burned, their flesh evaporated, and their bones turned to ash.

The screams continued intermittently until they completely disappeared, leaving only the low hum of the flames.

The battle lasted less than ten seconds from start to finish... It was a process from resistance to despair.

Will froze, his chest heaving violently, his ears filled only with his own heartbeat and the deep rumble.

He looked at the lingering glow of the fire.

That was no longer at the level of ordinary magic, but a power that could make the soul tremble.

“This magic…” he murmured, gripping his spear tightly, his expression complex, which then turned into fervor. “Lord Louis has already reached the strength of a peak knight.”

Wel's eyes gleamed; serving such a lord was the greatest honor of his life.

A few steps away, Uru was stealthily moving amidst the chaos, wielding a short sword and a dagger, taking advantage of the confusion to ambush the enemy from the shadows.

His movements were swift and ruthless, targeting the weaknesses of the knights and guards, slitting throats, stabbing hearts, and cutting necks, each strike completed amidst a flash of blood.

Just as he was about to approach another knight from behind, he suddenly looked up.

At that moment, he saw the destructive flames, and five extraordinary warriors were instantly engulfed.

Uru froze, his mind blank.

'That was... Kalk... They were all the strongest members of our respective clans... How could they have been wiped out by the same person?!'

Uru's heart nearly sank into an abyss; his hand gripping the dagger trembled.

At that moment, he finally understood that their so-called perfect attack was nothing but a joke.

The barbarians dared to risk their lives because they believed that Frost Dragon Territory lacked high-end combat power.

Their advantage lies in the number of strong individuals.

But Louis, all by himself, shattered all of these premises.

The last rays of the flames illuminated Uru's horrified face as he muttered, "How could a young nobleman...possess such power..."

The hope in his eyes was slowly fading away.

In the distance, the glow of the flames drew even more attention.

The terrified screams gradually merged into a cacophony of voices, and the entire manor was enveloped in that strange aura. Amid the chaos, Asta looked up at the ball of fire.

Even through the fireworks, he could see the young lord's figure, calm and aloof, like a monument standing firm in the storm.

He should have been afraid, but at this moment, his first reaction was anger and jealousy.

"It's him again... Everyone's eyes are on him. Even this attack has become his stage..."

His thoughts were immediately interrupted by shouts of killing.

The guards shouted, "Your Highness, watch out! They're coming!"

Six barbarian warriors, using the firelight and smoke as cover, quickly approached the chaotic manor.

Bloodstains and firelight shimmered on their armor, their battle aura a deep blue, carrying a cold and violent killing intent.

Asta was surrounded by more than a dozen personal guards, three of whom were extraordinary knights, one of whom was the elderly Cypher.

This old man was once the deputy commander of the Sixth Legion of the Empire and also Asta's mentor.

Cypher's sword-drawing motion remained precise, a testament to the instincts of a seasoned veteran.

Golden battle aura ignited on his body, like a burning flame, as if he had returned to the battlefield of the Sixth Legion of the Empire.

Although their strength had waned, their imposing presence still caused the barbarian warriors to instinctively slow their pace.

"Your Highness, step back!" he roared, and golden battle aura exploded from his body like burning flames.

The six barbarians pounced in like wild beasts, their blue battle aura clashing with the golden light, causing the air to tremble.

Sparks and blood flames mingled, and the sound of blades slicing through the air echoed from the end of the corridor.

In the first wave of attack, three guards were torn apart, their blood splattering onto the stone wall.

In the second wave of impact, Cypher met the leader head-on, golden light bursting forth as he and the blue flames devoured each other, the air exploding into a deafening roar.

"Walk--!"

Asta staggered backward, his eyes filled with terror and twisted resentment.

He simply didn't understand why the barbarians were here, or why they were killing him.

He was clearly planning an attack on the Red Tide!

But on the edge of fear, a more despicable thought flashed through his mind.

If he could get Cypher and his guards to buy him some time, he could escape and wait for the knights on the outside to come to his aid.

“Stop them! Go—!” he screamed, his voice broken.

The former pride and royal dignity are long gone, replaced by a naked will to survive.

The six barbarians, fueled by their fighting spirit, grew stronger with each battle, like wild beasts out of control.

In less than ten seconds, the knights fell one by one, their blood staining the stone bricks.

Asta stumbled and fled in the chaos, blood streaming down his feet, his eyes fixed only on himself.

Cypher roared again as he charged at the two, his blade tearing through the air, golden light and blue flames intertwining to form a destructive arc.

A moment later, a dull thud was heard, and Cypher was sent flying, crashing heavily into the wall, blood spurting from his mouth.

"Your Highness! Let's go!" Cipher shouted with all his might, but his voice was swallowed up in the firelight.

When Asta turned around, his gaze was cold and fearful, his face showing no hesitation, only blatant fear and cowardice.

He didn't even look at Cipher, he just instinctively growled, "Stop them! You bunch of trash, stop them!"

Then he turned around, pushed aside an injured guard, used him as a shield, and desperately retreated backward.

Blood slid down his feet, and he practically tumbled and crawled away from the fire.

Cypher knelt amidst the ruins, blood dripping from the blade, his gaze still fixed on Asta's retreating figure.

He wasn't surprised that Asta had escaped; he had long known that the young man was unworthy of being called king, but he still hoped that the young man he had watched since childhood could escape.

Asta was surrounded by six barbarian warriors amidst the chaos and flames, howling in a sorry state, his eyes filled with madness and resentment.

He was still shouting, "Help me!"

But the people around him had already scattered, and the bodies of his guards were piled up at his feet.

The next second, the battle axe swept across, cleaving Asta's chest open and sending a cloud of blood into the sky.

He lay on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his hands still futilely reaching forward.

Louis's image was reflected in his eyes; the young man stood calmly like a god amidst the flames.

Jealousy, resentment, and deep unwillingness flashed in his eyes.

Even as his breath caught in his throat, his pupils remained fixed on that direction, as if trying to etch that figure into his soul.

Cypher stared at the scene, completely frozen in place.

Blood reflected in his eyes, tears mingled with blood as they streamed down his temples, and he murmured, "It's come to this after all..."

Chaos spread even faster throughout the entire manor.

The fountain in the courtyard had long been smashed, and the water mixed with blood to form shallow puddles.

The fleeing nobles and servants tripped over each other, and some fell into the pool, struggling desperately.

Several maids and servants rushed into the corridor inside the house, trying to escape the fire, but were trapped inside by the collapsed door beams.

The guards outside shouted, "Get inside quickly!"

The barbarian roars rose and fell in the night, their fighting spirit flickering in the dark red firelight.

Some people hid in the side hall, while others crawled into the servants' quarters. The doors were smashed open, and cries for help rose and fell.

The entire manor, inside and out, became a burning labyrinth, where no corner was safe.

The entire banquet hall spewed out heat waves and smoke, with wails, roars, and the clanging of metal clashing intertwined, and even the walls cracked and bled powder under the violent clash of fighting spirits.

The firelight illuminated the night sky, and the city was a scene of hell, a tapestry of blood and flames, all within ten minutes of the barbarians storming into the banquet.

Just then, the roar of warhorses came from the direction of the south gate.

Lambert's Red Tide Knights were like an iron torrent returning from hell, their warhorses crushing the snow and their iron hooves thundering.

Battle aura burned into crimson flames in the night, spears gleamed with cold light, and knights formed ranks like a surging tide.

They were like war gods descended from the heavens, with red capes draped over their shoulders, their fighting spirit flowing between their armor, and the firelight made them shine like deities.

"Charge—!" Lambert roared.

The knights swept in like a torrent, their spears thrusting out, their blades slicing through the flames.

Each collision produced a piercing metallic clang, drowning out the barbarian roars with the booming of the crimson tide's fighting spirit.

Crimson flames and blue battle aura clashed in the night sky, creating a dazzling turbulent current.

The Crimson Tide Knights' formation was like a wall of flames, pressing in from the front and tearing the barbarian formation apart.

Lambert swung his longsword, unleashing a sweeping attack that sent several barbarians flying, their blood spilling onto the spot.

Lambert dismounted as he approached Louis, his armor still dripping with undried blood.

He knelt on one knee and whispered, "My lord, I'm late."

Louis looked up at the night sky illuminated by the flames and said in a low voice, "Close the net. Leave a few key figures alive, kill the rest."

The nobles watched this scene as if they were witnessing a miracle.

They looked at the banner of the Crimson Tide, and at the young lord who still stood firm amidst the flames, and wept bitterly.

(End of this chapter)