Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 709: Chapter 398: Quagmire (Part 2)

Any general could recognize this place as a perfect ambush spot.

But Ackman laughed, he had long expected Louis to play this way.

He stared at the eerily silent snowfield, his eyes glinting with a hunter’s cold gaze: "Louis Calvin, did you think I would step into your magic burst trap? Using those explosive alchemy toys, who can you kill?"

Behind him stood the Black Steel Knights of the Seventeenth Legion, three thousand fully armored heavy knights like a pressing iron-colored tsunami.

The snow fell on their armor, but was instantly evaporated into white mist by fighting energy.

"All troops, hear my command! Slave cavalry advance!" Ackman snapped his whip.

A hundred Barbarian Race light cavalry charged into the pass like unleashed wild dogs, roaring.

A few moments later...

"Boom! Boom, boom!"

The accumulated snow exploded, with fire and blood mist mixed together, tossing over a dozen Barbarian Race riders and horses into the air.

But the explosion ceased there, no chain reaction, no large-scale detonation that would shock Ackman.

Ackman sneered coldly: "Sure enough, it’s a minefield... but its power is limited. Heavy cavalry won’t die."

Then, he ordered without hesitation: "Formation scatter! All knights, five meters interval! Advance by squad!"

Three thousand Black Knights spread into a web-like advancing formation at the sound of the horn, sparse but carrying an unstoppable destructive aura, rolling into the pass.

Until almost all of them entered the designated area.

... yet there was no second wave of explosions.

At the end of the birch pass, on the north wall of Frost Halberd City, Louis raised his hand from afar, as if signaling some elegant commencement.

In the next second, the earth emitted a thunderous heartbeat-like sound.

"Buzz—Boom!!"

No blinding fire, no flying metal shards. Only a tremor so terrifying it instantly numbed one’s nerves, coming from deep underground.

The black-scaled warhorse beneath Ackman suddenly sank.

He reacted swiftly but still stared wide-eyed: "This... isn’t an explosion?"

This wasn’t a high explosive minefield; it was a magic burst package buried five meters deep—deep oscillation magic burst.

The shockwave first shattered the permafrost, then stirred the underground water, turning the whole iron-hard foundation into a fluid in an instant.

The snowfield collapsed instantly.

The entire 300-meter-wide passage turned into a swamp-like mud hell in moments.

Horse hooves first sunk in, the more they struggled, the deeper they went.

The heavy armor, along with the knights, was swallowed half by the viscous mud.

No dead, no casualties, but the entire army was immobilized.

Ackman’s pupils contracted sharply, he wanted to curse but choked: "This brat... wasn’t trying to blow me up. He’s aiming to capture me alive like livestock?!"

The mud kept rolling, knights fell from their horses, one by one sprawling in the muddy water, struggling to stand, yet even drawing their weapons wasn’t smooth. Chains, armor, horse armor all became restraints.

"Legion Commander! We’re... stuck!"

"The rear army collided! Formation squeezed together!"

The three thousand Black Knights that had spread like a net now forced into a narrow "meat corridor" by the terrain.

The front stopped, the rear collided, the flanks sunk, squeezed together like sardines.

Ackman roared furiously, his fighting energy burst forth, pushing the mud away, leaping on horseback.

"Everyone stand up! Charge through! As long as we leave this mud pit, victory is ours!"

Under Ackman’s near-mad roar and pressure, the heavy cavalry forcefully pulled their legs out of the mud.

Some abandoned their horses, others stumbled forward.

They finally, with difficulty, left the mud zone, only 800 meters remaining to near Frost Halberd City.

But Ackman paid no attention to any of this.

In his eyes, the mud was just a temporary obstacle, he even showed a hint of excited smile, shouting loudly: "Do you see?! Not even traps can stop us! As long as we charge through, victory is ours!"

Ackman had no time to observe the collapse of formations, only fixed his eyes on that seemingly still traversable piece of flat land ahead, fiercely clamping his warhorse, splashing mud water as he charged out first.

Behind him, this shattered, dragged by mud, forced into a mass of gigantic legion, flowed forward, forced to follow his rhythm.

They thought they still retained their momentum, believed that by continuing to charge forward, they could smash open the gates of Frost Halberd City.

And on the city wall, Louis calmly watched their almost ludicrous advance, with the corner of his lips faintly raised.

Louis never intended to kill them with traps.

What he wanted was to strip away their fighting spirit, strip the Seventeenth Legion of its meaning as a legion, break their fearless momentum.

Let them lose their qualification for war before even reaching the walls, as a prelude for the grand feast to come.

......

Birch pass’s side flank highland.

It’s windy here, yet it’s the best position overlooking the entire pass.

Snow spun in the cold wind, like tiny silver flakes, knocking out subtle and urgent sounds on the armor of the two hidden Knight Orders behind snow ridges.

Felan, leader of the Cold Iron Knight Order, stood at the forefront, his entire being seemingly cast from cold iron.

His heavy armor was deep black, almost able to swallow the light amidst the wind and snow, leaving only a hard outline.

He remained silent, only staring at the pass below, now turned into a sea of mud.

Oser, leader of the Silver Fang Knight Order, stood half a step behind him, his silver-gray light armor gently rattling in the wind.

Compared to Felan’s steadiness, his emotions were markedly more tense.

Through the telescope, he could see Ackman’s heavy cavalry struggling awkwardly in the mud, rolling, akin to an apocalyptic disaster.

"Felan! Look below!" Oser couldn’t help but growl, his hand already gripped on the sword hilt, "Ackman’s formation is scattered! Thoroughly scattered! It’s a heaven-sent opportunity!"

He pointed toward the distant majestic Frost Halberd City, voice pressed low yet still leaking urgency:

"If they escape, the walls will bear full impact! Panic within civilians! Our Silver Fang Knight Order’s duty is to guard Frost Halberd City! Charging down now, we can shred them from the side!"

Felan raised his hand, like an impassable iron gate blocking Oser. His voice steady as rock: "The Lord’s red signal flare hasn’t risen. Without orders, the Cold Iron Order won’t move a step."

"You’re too blindly obedient!" Oser’s anger couldn’t be contained, he shoved Felan’s hand aside, even forcing nearby Cold Iron Knights to step up half-way.

"Louis is merely acting as a caretaker of military power! Frost Halberd City is where Master Isaac roots himself! If because of his hesitation Frost Halberd City suffers, you and I, how can we face the old Duke after death?!"

He gritted his teeth, angrily reprimanding: "What is that youngster thinking? The battlefield changes in an instant, and he actually wants to engage directly with heavy cavalry on the plain? Does he think war is child’s play?!"

Felan slowly turned his head, the eyes that cried before the Duke’s spirit now cold as blade edge: "Oser, do you remember my vow before the spirit?"

He pronounced each word steadily: "We vowed not to disgrace his ambition. Since the Duke granted command to Lord Louis, then his orders are the Duke’s will.

You’ve stayed too far from Lord Louis. You only see his gentleness in Frost Halberd City, but haven’t seen him turn the impossible into reality at Red Tide. He understands far better than us how to safeguard Master Isaac’s future."

Oser wanted to retort but stopped ever so faintly as words reached his lips.

Because the earth... was shaking.

Initially, it was just a slight trembling, then gradually grew stronger, as if some colossal creature awakening underground.

Felan lifted his chin, pointing towards Frost Halberd City: "Do you think Lord Louis laid this setup only to trap them in mud pits?"

"Listen."

Oser held his breath. Amid the rushing wind, a low, deep rumbling increasingly resonated, unheard of—like a metal beast’s heartbeat.

Thump—thump—thump—

The power of that sound even surpassed thousands of warhorse hooves, shaking off the snow piles on the ridges.

Oser’s pupils shrank slightly: "This... what is it?"

Felan’s voice was as cold and cutting as a blade: "A monster from the Red Tide."

The sound carried by the wind was the breathing of mechanical pistons, the roar of steam and steel.

That sound, increasingly loud, increasingly ferocious.

On the snow ridge highland, knights from both Knight Orders instinctively straightened their spines.

The power of a new era was about to take the stage.