Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 62 Head
The sack was pulled open.

More than thirty bloody heads rolled to the center of the banquet hall, making a dull "thump" sound as they landed.

One of the severed heads had a ferocious expression, with its eyes wide open, as if it had died with its eyes open in despair.

The air froze instantly, and the entire banquet hall fell silent.

The once boisterous nobles seemed to have been put on pause, staring motionlessly at the scene on the ground.

Count Firth stared blankly at the pile of heads, his throat bobbing: "What...what is this?!"

Zachary's smile froze instantly, as if he had been struck dumb by a blow to the head.

He instinctively took a half step back, his face extremely pale.

Louis remained calm, as if he had only brought a few ordinary gifts.

"White Feather Canyon, annihilate the Snow Oath Elite Team attempting a southward invasion. All cleared, their heads are here."

Zachary snapped back to reality, gritting his teeth and forcing a cold laugh: "That's all? A few barbarian heads are enough for you to delay the Earl's banquet?"

His tone was aggressive, as if he had already found some flaw in his argument.

"Or are you carrying these things to make up some kind of war achievement, trying to get away with it?"

Count Firth's face darkened, and he snorted coldly, "This isn't a military camp. It's outrageous to bring some bloody stuff here to show off."

The surrounding nobles began to whisper among themselves, looking at Louis with suspicion and disdain.

"really?"

"The Calvin family really knows how to put on a show."

Immediately, jeers and mockery arose.

Louis did not argue, but simply smiled faintly and stood still.

At this moment, Jon strode forward and shouted angrily, "I saw it with my own eyes!"
These heads were all taken in White Feather Canyon! Those were the Snow Oath's elite assault team, clad in heavy armor, their combat prowess far surpassing that of ordinary enemy soldiers.

He glanced at the still disbelieving nobles and added through gritted teeth, "We almost died there. While you were drinking and laughing here, Baron Calvin was gambling his life with the Snowsworn!"

The discussion paused for a moment, but soon resumed.

"Ha, you talk like a hero."

"You've been acting long enough, isn't it time to wrap things up?"

At this moment, a white-haired nobleman from the North slowly stepped forward.

He squinted, staring intently at the withered head on the ground, when suddenly his expression changed drastically.

"This...this head...it's Hasker!"

His voice trembled, revealing an undisguised excitement and hatred.

"That old dog who's been hiding in the snow forest for years and is good at night raids! My manor was half burned down three years ago when he led a night raid!"

Another grey-clad nobleman muttered, "My uncle was ambushed and beheaded by him, and his entire family was wiped out... This man should have died long ago!"

Upon hearing the name "Haskell," many nobles from Xuefeng County in the banquet hall paled.

Some people muttered curses under their breath, some gasped in shock, and some even had tears welling up in their eyes.

Hasker was not a renowned strongman in the North, but he was cunning, ruthless, and skilled in night raids and surprise attacks.

For more than a decade, they have been constantly harassing the territory of Xuefeng County, known for their guerrilla warfare, and killing and arson are commonplace for them.

Because he was too cunning, several attempts to encircle and suppress him failed, which only made him more and more arrogant.

Such a long-standing cancer has actually died?

"It was him, no doubt... I remember that ugly face clearly!"

The northern nobleman gritted his teeth, staring at the head with a sense of vengeful satisfaction.

The nobles who had initially questioned Louis suddenly fell silent.

Even Count Firth subconsciously straightened up, the doubt on his face slowly fading and replaced by a look of shock.

"Hasker... really dead?" "It was this kid who did it?"

"So young, yet so accomplished!"

The nobles who had been harassed by Hasker now had complex expressions, a mixture of shock, admiration, and even gratitude.

Jon seemed to have been waiting for this moment for a long time. He immediately stepped forward and shouted:

"That's right! Louis led his team in a surprise attack on the enemy, killing dozens of enemies and personally beheading Hasker!"
The entire process was swift and decisive, without any hesitation or retreat, even with injuries, they didn't budge an inch!

His voice grew louder and more impassioned, accompanied by exaggerated gestures that made it seem like an impromptu battlefield reenactment.

"He charged into the enemy ranks, cut down three men with a single sword stroke, and ripped Hasker off the hillside. I swear I'll never forget that scene!"

“Yorn,” Louis said calmly, offering a reminder.

Jon immediately shut up and didn't say anything more.

Louis showed no sign of pride, only a slight smile: "It was just a small job, nothing to mention."

When the old nobles of the North looked at him again, their eyes were completely different from before.

It's no longer the contempt of waiting to see someone make a fool of themselves.

Instead, it was serious, respectful, and even with a touch of gratitude.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the pioneering nobles from the south also began to whisper among themselves.

"This kid's got some skills."

"Zachry always said he was a playboy, but..."

Someone glanced furtively at Zachary, then at Louis, a hint of hesitation flashing in their eyes.

Zachary stood at the edge of the crowd, his expression changing repeatedly.

He could sense that the pioneering nobles who had originally gravitated towards him were now quietly shifting their attention to someone else.

"Damn it..." he muttered through gritted teeth, his fists clenching tightly.

He never expected that what was supposed to be a setup to humiliate him would turn into a one-man show by the other party.

And he became the clown who got slapped in the face.

But Zachary didn't say anything more, and simply retreated into the crowd, waiting for the next opportunity.

Count Firth looked both surprised and furious.

He didn't care who Hasker was, what harm he had caused to the North, or how remarkable it was that Louis had annihilated him.

All he knew was that Louis had disrespected him and stolen his thunder.

And just as he was about to lash out.

Louis suddenly looked at him and said respectfully, "Actually, this victory is mainly due to the Earl's strategic planning and intelligence support."

"If you hadn't sent scouts to warn us before the battle and directed the deployment, this brilliant counter-ambush wouldn't have happened."

The entire room fell silent as the nobles exchanged bewildered glances.

Count Firth was taken aback, his lips parted slightly, "I... what did I send?"

He truly couldn't recall sending anyone, and he was even meeting Louis for the first time.

But when military merits, glory, the admiration of others... and other benefits pass through his mind.

The self-memory modification technique has quietly activated!
Just two seconds.

His eyes lit up again, and a relieved smile appeared on his lips.

A memory of "personally dispatching scouts" appeared in his mind, and he could even clearly recall some details.

"Hahaha!" Count Firth suddenly burst into laughter.

"Yes, it was definitely my arrangement!" He slapped his thigh, proudly proclaiming, "You certainly didn't disappoint me!"

(End of this chapter)