Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 69 The End and the Beginning

The night at Qingyu Ridge remained deep, with embers flickering in the mountains, illuminating the blood-stained snow.

The battle is over.

Red Tide's splitting tactics were completely effective. The Snow Oath warriors were forcibly torn into several isolated forces, losing their coordination and being defeated one by one.

This is a massacre, not a battle.

Although the knights brought by Yorn lacked practical combat experience, they were also assigned to the outer perimeter under the guidance of the Crimson Tide Knights, specifically to clear out those enemies who tried to escape.

They patrolled the edge of the battlefield in tiers, intercepting every enemy who tried to escape and killing them with a single sword strike.

But those who swore an oath were not mediocre soldiers after all.

They roared, igniting their fighting spirit and forcibly entering a state of "boiling blood berserk," still causing considerable casualties.

Several people managed to escape and fled north, taking news of the bloody battle with them.

But that couldn't change the outcome.

Qingyu Ridge has fallen.

Louis's side suffered very few casualties, losing only eighteen knights, while the Snowsworn were almost completely wiped out.

The entire battle was precise and efficient, resembling a textbook example of a night raid annihilation operation.

Of course, without that path, and without the cover of night, even if Louis had three times the number of troops, he would have been dragged into the mire by the Snowsworn.

Bond stood in the dilapidated tent, gazing at the now-pacified Qingyu Ridge, his face filled with disbelief.

He looked down at the mottled bloodstains on the battlefield, then looked up at the group of Crimson Tide Knights who were lining up and reorganizing.

"So... we've got it?" he murmured.

Duke Edmund had been unable to resolve the issue of Qingyu Ridge, a stronghold, for several years, and it remained a major concern for him.

But now, overnight, Louis has won it.

It was clean and efficient, without a protracted tug-of-war, without a chaotic siege, and without even a proper frontal battle.

Bond looked at the young figure.

Louis stood high on the mountain path, calmly instructing several knights on how to handle the aftermath.

It seems that all of this is how it should be.

“What a young hero,” Bond murmured.

Jon stood next to Louis, barely able to keep a smile on his face.

"Is this considered a meritorious service?" he asked in a low voice, his tone full of barely concealed excitement. "When this battle report is sent back, my name should be on the governor's radar, right?"

He hardly actually fought; he simply led his knights to intercept several groups of deserters.

They won without even realizing it.

He rubbed his hands together excitedly, realizing that clinging to the boss would indeed bring him great benefits.

After cleaning up the battlefield, the soldiers began to count the spoils of war.

Several camps and caves were thoroughly searched, and piles of food supplies, leather, dried meat, and arrows were found.

There were also looted valuables, including gold and silver artifacts, gold coins, woolen rolls, and some old currency from the Snow Country.

There were even several thick tactical manuals, all sealed in moisture-proof tarpaulins and well preserved.

It seems that Xue Shizhe is not an ordinary bandit; he also knows how to work hard and improve himself.

But the most unique trophy was the mirror that the soldiers had carried out from behind the tent.

The shattered mirror is embedded in an obsidian frame, the cracks resembling a spider web, yet reflecting an eerie blue light.

“The Mirror of Hidden Mist.” Bond recognized the item, his tone complicated. “No wonder we always came up empty-handed during our raids…it turns out it was this.”

Louis glanced at him, reached out and touched the edge of the glasses frame, and asked, "What is this thing?"

“From a distance, you can only see an illusion, but if you get close by a few dozen meters, you can see the truth. It only lasts for a dozen minutes, and it can't cover too much area.” Louis’s gaze fell on the cracked mirror, and he thought for a moment.

Something like a mirage?

“This is a really good surprise,” Louis said softly.

Bond listened intently from the side, noticing that Louis remained calm, but a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.

“They will soon discover that Qingyu Ridge has fallen,” Louis continued. “At that time, they will definitely send people back to scout and try to retake the stronghold.”

He turned his head and looked at the valley where the fighting had just ended.

"If we can use this mirror to disguise this place as ruins... we can ambush a troop here."

He paused, a barely perceptible smile curving his lips.

"I'm waiting for them to walk right into my trap."

The soldiers wrapped up the Mirror of Hidden Mist and put it into an iron box.

…………

The snowy night was deep, and the campfire glowed faintly.

Bond sat in his tent, pulled his cloak tighter, spread the parchment on the table, and began to write.

This is a formal battle report to Duke Edmund, concerning the recapture of Qingyu Ridge, the defeat of the Snowsworn, and, more importantly, the performance of that young nobleman.

In his letter, he detailed how Louis guided his troops to take a roundabout route for a surprise attack, how he precisely divided the enemy forces, and how he got the Red Tide Knights to cooperate in the battle.

Even the artifact [Mirror of Hidden Mist], which could conceal the presence of the camp, was recorded.

It also warned that although Qingyu Ridge had been recaptured, the Oath-Swearers would inevitably react, and might even be gathering an army to counterattack.

This place is the key to annihilating the Snowsworn; we earnestly request the Duke to send reinforcements as soon as possible to consolidate the victory.

At the end of the letter, Bond unusually wrote a personal assessment.

"This battle demonstrates that Baron Calvin's command and insight far exceed his age and experience. With proper training, he may become a pillar of the North in the future."

He sighed softly, pushed open the door and stepped out of the tent, tying the letter to a swiftbird.

This is a communication magical beast widely used by the imperial nobles and military. It is not large in size, but it is extremely fast and can avoid conventional tracking and magical interference while flying.

It let out a low cry, seemingly realizing the importance of the mission, and immediately folded its wings, pushed off the ground, and disappeared into the sky in an instant.

…………

Viscount Webster has been having some troubles lately.

On the first day of the Snowsworn's siege, they took advantage of the fog and darkness to launch a probing attack. They didn't seem to be in a hurry to attack the city; rather, they were trying to disrupt the morale of the defenders.

He guarded the city wall all night, his nerves on edge, but what really gave him a headache was not the enemy, but his own people.

The noble troops from various regions had absolutely no sense of cooperation.

He had lost his temper several times because they disobeyed orders and delayed reinforcements, but it was to no avail.

The old nobles in the North were still somewhat obedient to his commands.

But those pioneering lords from the south, while they all made grand promises, were either hesitant or perfunctory when it came to actually mobilizing their troops.

He knew he wasn't cut out to be a commander.

When the Earl of Firth was still in power, he was only responsible for leading the charge.

Back then, he could achieve merit simply by wielding his sword; he didn't need to think too much.

But things are different now. Old Firth's successor is too weak and can't handle things at all.

He was forced into a position that didn't belong to him, yet he couldn't step down.

He stood on the city wall, gazing at the gray distance, his heart filled with gloom.

(End of this chapter)