Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Departure

Louis stood on the open ground on one side of the camp, looking at the troops lined up in front of him.

In total, there were twenty Elite Knights, fifty Official Knights, one hundred and three Apprentice Knights, and four hundred infantry.

This was all the military force he was taking to Qingyu Ridge this time.

The soldiers and knights from Red Tide Territory need no further elaboration; they were well-trained and high in morale.

After a long period of training, the average loyalty of this team to Louis was 150%.

The forces Yorn brought were surprisingly well-organized too.

His bright silver-edged light armor stood out among the crowd, behind him was a batch of well-equipped knights and infantry.

It seemed that Count Harvey had indeed invested heavily in this younger son, fearing that he might die inexplicably in the Northern Territory.

There were also some unfamiliar faces in the crowd.

They were all inserted by Viscount Webster, Louis knew at a glance.

Although they wore no badges, it was clear they were from the old Northern nobility.

Their duties were clearly not just to support; their true task was to supervise Louis.

What caught Louis’s attention the most was an Elite Knight named Bond.

He was silent and cold-faced, his hand never leaving his sword hilt.

It’s just that he was a bit ugly, and nothing like 007.

Although he looked plain and unadorned, Louis, armed with the Daily Intelligence System, was well aware that he was a secret envoy from the Governor’s Mansion.

If Louis did anything to betray the Empire, he had the authority to act first and report later.

So Louis instructed Lambert and the other Elite Knights to keep an eye on him, in case he suddenly went mad and cut him down.

As Louis was organizing the ranks, Yorn sidled up to him.

He waved others away, lowered his voice, and asked, “By the way, boss, why did you voluntarily request to go to Qingyu Ridge?”

Louis certainly couldn’t tell him directly about having the Daily Intelligence System.

“Reason?” Louis thought for a moment, but couldn’t be bothered to fabricate a story, “Gut feeling, I guess. Feels like a chance to earn merit.”

“I see…” Yorn had a look of understanding.

“You’ve really inserted a mole inside the Snow Swearers, haven’t you?”

Louis was mildly surprised: “Huh?”

“See, you were able to save me that day because you knew where I was, right? Then you just happened to know Haskell would take the canyon, and now you’ve picked Qingyu Ridge.”

Yorn got more and more excited: “As expected of you, boss, you’ve managed to plant informants inside the Snow Swearers, that’s amazing.”

Louis gave him a look that spoke volumes, but didn’t explain further.

Yorn patted his chest in relief and said, “This time I might just ride your coattails to great merit.”

The organization was nearing its end.

Troops were formed into four columns, iron helmets gleaming faintly in the sunlight, with fighting energy lingering in the air.

The sound of the horn echoed.

Louis mounted his horse, scanned the area, and raised his hand in a wave.

“Move out, target Qingyu Ridge.”

…

Before dawn, the snow fog in the Northern Territory was thick, the vision engulfed in gray and white.

Snow Shadow Highlands lay in this silent vastness, with Snow Swearers from three strongholds gathered there.

A twisted black totem pole stood in the middle of the desolate ground.

Barnes stood on the totem platform, wearing an ice wolf pelt.

Red battle patterns extended from his forehead to his chest, a Cold Abyss Battleaxe stood by his feet.

He was among the remnants of Old Snow Country nobility, witnessing firsthand the night the Empire’s iron cavalry broke through Snow Capital and the Snowfield was set ablaze.

His siblings all perished during the Empire’s purge, he alone escaped alive.

Thus, he became one of the founders of the Snow Swearers, also one of the eight elders.

He currently commanded the Snow Swearers situated in Snow Peak County.

His loyalty to the Snow Swearers’ leader Hiro was immense, seeing him as the last hope of the old royal bloodline.

This time, Hiro himself ordered Barnes to attack Snow Eagle City with full force, forbidding failure.

Barnes looked down at the thousands of warriors below.

These people weren’t a disorderly mob; they were elite survivors from battles on the Snowfield.

They wore battle armor, some in rough animal pelts, others in gleaming iron plates.

Each piece was different but bore the marks of prolonged combat.

The front row held a phalanx of shields and spears, spears bound with animal bones glinted coldly in the mist.

The rear was occupied by Wolf Knights, their massive snow wolves silent on the barren land, blue eyes gleaming.

Most daunting was the Mad Wolf Team.

They were wrapped in black cloth and bone fragments, wielding short blades, faces marked with the blood symbols of the Ancient God of Cold Abyss, elite among the Snow Swearers.

The entire army had no banners, no unified command, yet maintained order.

They were waiting.

Waiting for the command that would unleash them like an avalanche over Snow Eagle City.

In front of the totem, the Cold Abyss Priest kneeled, chanting ancient words, the sound reverberating through the barren expanse, penetrating minds like a nightmare.

They cursed the Empire in the ancient Snow Country language, narrating the destruction of Snow Country.

“They burned our homes, they killed our brothers…”

Warriors pounded their chests and roared, their voices rising wave upon wave.

Barnes held the shattered old emblem, his gaze sweeping over the people scattered across the wasteland.

“You all know this,” his voice was deep, “this is the emblem of Snow Country.”

He held the emblem high and then let go, letting it fall onto the cold ground.

“We once had our own nation, with Snow Capital, a Royal Court, a name.

The Ironblood Empire destroyed it all, burned our homes, killed our kin, trampled our dignity with their iron cavalry.”

He paused momentarily, eyes cold.

“We are Snow Swearers, not rebels, but the displaced.

Now those Southern Barbarians are gathering troops again, ready to exterminate us completely.”

“Very well.”

He reached out and grasped the Cold Abyss Battleaxe, the axe blade pointing southward: “This time, we will strike preemptively, we will take Snow Eagle City.

We’ll settle blood debts with blood.”

With his words, the warriors cut their fingers, letting blood spill before the totem.

This signified their determination to overthrow the Empire.

Then the true sacrifice began.

Several nobility and knights in Empire attire were hung upside down over the ice altar.

With mouths stuffed with rags, they could only let out muffled moans.

They were injured, their blood dripped incessantly, pooling into the recesses of the altar.

The Cold Abyss Priest approached them, gently caressing the cold stone surface, chanting ancient incantations.

“Ancient God of Cold Abyss, grant us your blessing.”

The ground trembled slightly, below the altar came muffled slithering sounds.

The mist thickened, as if the air was being drawn away.

The captives’ bodies began to wither, blood drained from them, black blood seeping from their seven orifices, leaving only remains.

The totem pole erupted in an eerie blue flame, a deep, ominous sound emanated from beneath.

The priest translated the Ancient God’s “words” aloud: “The god has granted permission.”

The warriors erupted in cheers, shattering the silence.

Barnes raised his battle axe, the axe blade pointing towards Snow Eagle City: “Move out.”

No flags, no drums.

The shadows surged forward like a black tide, silently advancing through wind and snow toward Snow Eagle City.

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