Rise of the Northern Warlord: Starting with Daily Intelligence-Chapter 66: Departure

Vaerik stood on an open field to one side of the camp, looking at the troops that had finished forming ranks before him.

A total of twenty elite knights, fifty formal knights, one hundred and three knight apprentices, and four hundred infantry.

This was his entire force for the journey to Clear Feather Ridge.

The soldiers and knights from Crimson Tide Domain were well-trained and high in morale, needless to say.

After long periods of conditioning, this unit had an average loyalty rate of 150% toward Vaerik.

The forces John brought were also unexpectedly well-organized.

His bright silver-trimmed light armor stood out in the crowd, followed by a group of well-equipped knights and infantry.

It seemed Earl Harvey had indeed invested considerably in this youngest son, fearing he might die mysteriously in the Northern Province.

There were also several unfamiliar faces in the crowd.

Those were people Viscount Webster had inserted, and Vaerik understood at a glance.

They bore no insignia but could clearly be identified as coming from old Northern Province noble families.

Their duty obviously wasn’t just support—monitoring Vaerik was their real mission.

What drew Vaerik’s attention most was an elite knight named Bond.

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

He was rather ugly and bore no resemblance to 007.

Though he appeared plain and unremarkable, Vaerik, who possessed the Daily Intelligence System, understood clearly that this man was the Governor’s envoy.

If Vaerik performed any act of betrayal against the Empire, he had the authority to execute first and report later.

So Vaerik had Lambert and other elite knights keep an eye on him, lest he suddenly go mad and cut him down.

While Vaerik was organizing the military formation, John approached.

He waved others away and asked in a lowered voice: "Say, boss, why did you voluntarily request to go to Clear Feather Ridge?"

Vaerik naturally couldn’t directly tell him about having the Daily Intelligence System.

"Reason?" Vaerik thought for a moment but was too lazy to fabricate. "Intuition, I suppose. I feel there’s an opportunity to achieve merit."

"I see..." John wore an expression of "I understand what you mean."

"You’ve definitely planted informants among the Snow Swearers, haven’t you?"

Vaerik was slightly stunned: "Huh?"

"Look, you were able to save me that day because you knew where I was, right? Then you just happened to know Haskell would come through the canyon, and now you’ve chosen Clear Feather Ridge."

John grew more excited as he spoke: "Worthy of being the boss—you actually managed to embed spies among the Snow Swearers. Too awesome!"

Vaerik looked at him with indescribable feelings but didn’t explain further.

John patted his chest in relief: "This time I might be able to ride along for another great achievement."

The preparation work was nearing completion.

The troops formed four columns, their iron helmets glinting in the sunlight, battle energy faintly visible in the air.

Horn sounds rang out.

Vaerik mounted his horse, swept his gaze around, and raised his hand in a wave.

"Depart. Destination: Clear Feather Ridge."

...

Before dawn, heavy snow fog blanketed the Northern Province, and the view was entirely gray-white.

Snow Shadow Heights lay submerged in this deathly silence, with Snow Swearers from three strongholds having assembled here.

A black, twisted totem pole stood in the center of the wasteland.

Barnes stood on the totem platform, wrapped in ice wolf pelts.

Red war paint extended from his forehead to his chest, and a Frost Abyss battle axe stood at his feet.

He was one of the descendants of the old Snow Country’s surviving nobles, having witnessed firsthand the night when Imperial cavalry trampled through the snow capital and the snowfields were burned.

All his brothers and sisters died in the Imperial purge; only he escaped with his life.

Thus he became one of the founding members of the Snow Swearers and one of their eight great elders.

He currently commanded the Snow Swearers located in Snow Peak Prefecture.

He was extremely loyal to Snow Swearer leader Heero, viewing him as the last hope of the old royal bloodline.

This time Heero personally 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 rabble—they were elite who had survived the slaughter on the snowfields.

They wore battle armor, either rough beast hide or gleaming iron plates.

Every piece of equipment was different, yet all bore the marks of long combat.

The front ranks were shield and spear formations, with spears bound with beast bones glinting coldly in the mist.

The rear ranks were wolf riders, with massive snow wolves standing silently on the wasteland, their blue eyes glowing.

Most fearsome were the mad wolf troops.

They were wrapped head to toe in black cloth and bone fragments, wielding short blades, their faces painted with blood marks of the Frost Abyss ancient god. They were the elite among the Snow Swearers’ elite.

The entire army had no military banners, no unified commands, yet maintained its own order.

They were waiting.

Waiting for a single command to crash down on Snow Eagle City like an avalanche.

Frost Abyss priests knelt before the totem, chanting in low voices in ancient tongue, their voices echoing across the wasteland, drilling into hearts like nightmares.

They cursed the Empire in the old Snow Country language, recounting Snow Country’s destruction.

"They burned our homes, they killed our brothers..."

The warriors also beat their chests and roared together, their voices rising wave upon wave.

Barnes gripped a broken old insignia, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the wasteland.

"You all recognize this," his voice was low. "This is Snow Country’s emblem."

He held the insignia high, then released it, letting it fall to the cold ground.

"We once had our own country, had the snow capital, had a royal court, had names.

The Iron Blood Empire destroyed all of this, burned our homes, killed our kin, used their cavalry to trample our dignity."

He paused momentarily, his gaze ice-cold.

"We are Snow Swearers—not rebels, but the dispossessed of a fallen nation. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Now those southern barbarians want to assemble armies again to completely exterminate us."

"Very well."

He reached out to grasp the Frost Abyss battle axe, the axe blade pointing south: "This time, we’ll strike first. We’ll take Snow Eagle City.

We’ll repay blood with blood."

As his words fell, the warriors cut their fingers and sprinkled blood on the ground before the totem.

This represented their determination to destroy the Empire.

Then the real sacrifice began.

Several nobles and knights wearing Imperial clothing were hung upside down above the ice altar.

Their mouths were stuffed with rags, only able to emit muffled groans.

They bore wounds, blood continuously dripping down, flowing into the altar’s grooves.

Frost Abyss priests approached them, gently stroking the cold stone surface, chanting ancient incantations.

"Frost Abyss ancient god, please grant your blessing."

The ground trembled slightly, and muffled writhing sounds came from beneath the ice altar.

Mist condensed, and the air seemed to be sucked away.

The captives’ bodies began to shrivel, their blood seemingly drained away. Black blood seeped from their seven orifices, finally leaving only bones.

Strange blue fire ignited atop the totem pole, and deep alien sounds came from underground.

The priest loudly translated the ancient god’s "words": "The god has consented."

The warriors erupted in cheers, tearing through the silent world.

Barnes raised his battle axe, the blade pointing toward Snow Eagle City: "Depart."

No banners, no drums.

Black tide-like figures silently advanced through wind and snow, heading straight for Snow Eagle City.