Read Novel Full Chapter 708 - 398: Quagmire
Chapter 708: Chapter 398: Quagmire
The afternoon after the meeting, Louis sent someone to knock on the doors of every attending Lord and Knight representative.
Leaving just one light message: "Gather at the North City Wall, I have something for you to see with your own eyes."
He gave no explanation, only instructing his attendants to prepare cloaks and portable heaters.
Thus, those nobles who were discussing cooperation and profit-sharing over tea on velvet chairs yesterday were forced to climb the newly built wall of Frost Halberd City in the biting wind and snow.
They thought Louis was simply putting on airs or intending to hold a so-called lord inspection ceremony.
However, when they stood on the wall and saw the gathering black torrent outside the city, all their luck and conjecture were instantly crushed.
Louis called them here not for a ceremony but to let them witness the imminent danger and the power of the Red Tide.
Only true fear could make these people, still clinging to old noble traditions, understand why military power must be handed over to the Red Tide.
And only by standing on this wind- howling wall, facing the pressing regular army.
Could they truly realize that the Old North is dead, and the new Northern Territory can only be reborn in iron and fire.
...
The wind of the Northern Territory howled on the North City Wall of Frost Halberd City, like a whole Icefield roaring.
The sky was pressed extremely low, and the blizzard was torn by the wind into white whip shadows, striking the battlements and flags, making a dull snapping sound.
Yet more piercing than the wind and snow was the gradually approaching vibration, shaking even the air.
It wasn’t the sound of hooves at first, but a deep rumble rolling from the depths of the earth, with lingering echoes and a sense of oppression.
The nobles on the city wall stopped breathing one by one.
"Is that... an earthquake?" someone’s voice trembled.
"No." Another noble said hoarsely, "That’s a cavalry tide."
Their gaze turned afar, where a line as thin as a hair suddenly appeared on the once white horizon.
The wind and snow couldn’t conceal its spread; that black line thickened and widened swiftly like a rising tide, swallowing the entire Snowfield’s color.
Someone exclaimed, "Is that... a legion? A whole legion?!"
No one could count how many Knights there were.
The black torrent stretched to the skyline, with no end in sight.
Even from miles away, you could feel the discipline of their movement.
No shouting, no roaring, only the countless iron hooves crushing the snow into a "thud—thud—thud—".
This silence was more suffocating than any battle drum.
This was the march of a regular army, the most terrifying war machine of the Empire.
On the command platform of Frost Halberd City’s North City Wall, almost all attending nobles were scared pale.
At this moment, they truly understood that what Louis said at the meeting was no joke.
Three legions, nine thousand Knights, were heading this way.
The cold wind pushed their heavy furs, and some even knelt to the ground, clutching the edge of the battlements, their voices like broken pottery: "We’re doomed... can’t stop it... who can stop this scale?!"
Several timid Barons had already begun to retreat quietly, trying to find the stairs down from the wall, as if getting away from this scene could distance the apocalypse further from themselves.
Count Albert, however, stood at the front.
He was the late Duke Edmund’s loyal subject, an old general who had weathered decades of wind and snow.
Even in this almost suffocating oppressive situation, he still stood straight, though his brows had more heaviness and concern than usual.
He did not panic like the others, lowering his voice to speak: "Lord Louis, the Seventeenth Legion and the other two armies advancing south simultaneously is a very unusual move. Are the defenses you set up in advance really enough to cope?"
This was an old general’s concern and responsibility for the safety of the Northern Territory.
He wasn’t doubting Louis, but confirming whether the young lord really had confidence in such an apocalyptic scene.
Louis glanced at him, his expression as calm as a lamp in a snowy night: "Rest assured, Count Albert. I am ready."
Count Albert was silent for a moment, then looked again at the distant black torrent, his tense fingers slowly relaxing.
He sighed lightly and could only shake his head: "...In that case, I’ll watch."
As the cavalry got closer, everyone looked towards the young lord seated in the central chair.
Louis sat in the chair, lightly holding a steaming red tea cup, as if enjoying a quiet afternoon tea in a warm hall, not on a wall about to be crushed by a cavalry tide.
The gale lifted his cloak, yet he didn’t even lift an eyelid.
He merely turned his head, looking at Isaac, who was sweating with nervousness beside him.
The child’s shoulders were tense as stone, instinctively clutching Louis’s cloak.
But when Louis looked at him, he hurriedly lifted his chin, trying hard to appear brave.
Louis put down the teacup, raised his hand to press down Isaac’s blue hair tousled by the wind, speaking as if asking what he wanted for dinner: "Are you afraid?"
Isaac’s breath hitched, his ear tips frozen red, but he gritted his teeth, stubbornly shaking his head: "No... not afraid."
Louis’s lips slightly curled into a smile, not mocking, but a calming acknowledgment.
"Good." He said softly, "Then open your eyes wide and see clearly, this is the last curtain call of the old era."
...
The biting wind of the Northern Territory echoed in the Birch Forest pass, as if the entire Icefield was moaning softly.
Ackman reined in his warhorse, standing at the front of the formation.
He looked at the 300-meter-wide pass leading to Frost Halberd City, with smooth, ice-reflecting sheer cliffs on either side, and in the front, a wind-snow covered white plain.