Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 440: Chapter 282: Fall

Wind Flame Valley, the winding and treacherous gorge, lay silently on the edge of the Northern Territory’s heartland.

On both sides, towering cliffs rose like gateways to the heavens and earth.

Watchtowers stood upon the cliffs, with stone projection platforms and magic burst arrays already in place, while the banner of the Third Legion fluttered in the morning breeze.

At this moment, as the sky began to brighten, the dense fog had yet to dissipate, white frost still clung to the rock walls, and the entire gorge was shrouded in a layer of pale moisture, appearing especially silent…

Like the deathly silence before the arrival of a storm.

Suddenly—Boom! Boom! Boom!

From afar came resounding heavy thuds, deep and muffled, as if some giant creature was stepping in the distance, yet rhythmic and patterned, like a roar from the underground.

This was the drumming of the Barbarian Army, reverberating through the valley in the morning, each drumbeat causing soldiers’ hearts to tremble.

Immediately following, the ground began to shiver as heavy-armored magical beasts appeared in the fog.

Their massive forms resembled bulls and bears, yet covered in dense, plant-like scales, with each scale entwined in red vines.

Some spewed red mist, some had multiple legs, moving like fortresses; as they ran, they made the earth seem to groan.

They did not howl, only the thunderous stomping of hooves and claws, approaching silently like living battering rams.

Behind them, the Northern Barbarian Knight Army emerged.

They rode not on warhorses but mutated steeds.

Fanged lizard horses, armored ice wolves, and even half-plant, half-beast hybrids, each rider carrying rage and strange phenomena.

Knights donned rough battle armor, their shoulders and helmets marked with flower crown insignias, eyes flickering with fighting energy, emotion radiating like a pulsing glow.

They emitted low growls, akin to a pack of beasts about to roar, charging like arrows at the frontline.

At the mouth of Wind Flame Valley, before the Empire’s defensive line, the battle was about to break out.

Yet, General Rudolph was not merely a pen-wielding noble; he was the commander of the Empire’s Seventh Legion, a high-tier Extraordinary Knight, having participated in both the “Smoldering Ash Hills” and “Tarlin Cross” bloodbaths, having ascended through sheer ability.

He slowly rose, downed the wine in his cup, wiped the corner of his mouth, and revealed a slight smile.

That sneering, contemptuous grin as if looking at a bunch of country bumpkins.

“Finally, they’ve arrived.” He hummed softly towards the distant direction of the valley entrance’s drumbeats, then turned to don his military uniform, fix his epaulettes and cape, while casually ordering:

“Sound the war horn, prepare for battle. Push the magic burst projectors to high positions, sniper platforms ready, inform the vanguard to form ranks!”

He spoke calmly, with unhurried pace, as if arranging a spring hunt instead of preparing for a do-or-die battle.

The young adjutant Saeriyan, despite tension, was excited: “Shall we have the knights ready to charge?”

Rudolph raised his hand to stop him, grabbing a monocle with ease, putting it on and gazing at the valley mouth shrouded in morning mist, coldly commanding: “Magic burst array, all fire!”

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom——!

Six alchemical projectors simultaneously activated, mixing alchemical petroleum with explosive crystals, and with long tails of flame, they crashed into the beast hordes.

The air suddenly filled with scorching, pungent smoke from the explosions.

The explosive fire rain dyed the frontline crimson, massive exotic beasts blasted away.

They twisted in agony within the inferno, collapsing like charred embers, four hooves flailing amid the scorching tumult.

Rolling stones and petroleum poured down the slopes like an avalanche.

Heavy stones smashed into the charging beasts at the forefront, with the entire gorge echoing with bone-cracking sounds.

“Release the arrows!”

With the command, the Empire’s archers quickly formed ranks, drawing bows and readying arrows, the arrow rain like sweeping night wind, precisely reaping the survivors in the chaos.

The knights’ fighting energy arrows streaked through the air, leaving trails of blazing light, the magical beasts amidst their death cries transformed into piles of corpses.

A few heavily armored assault beasts, clad in thick vine armor, struggled to escape, yet were consumed by flames, falling with mournful howls.

The frontline soldiers erupted in thunderous cheers, the horn atop the watchtower blaring triumphantly, seemingly already seeing the dawn of victory.

Rudolph stood on the command platform, raising his binoculars towards the frontline, only to see the valley mouth ablaze with towering flames, beast carcasses piling up, the offensive momentum temporarily stalled.

A slight sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth: “The Northern Barbarians are nothing more than thick-skinned beasts. Burn their hides, and they’re nothing.”

Behind him, the messenger stood waiting, he waved dismissively: “Go, invite the dance troupe to the central camp, beat some drums, perform a dance. Victory requires ceremony.”

He turned to sit back in his chair, smoothing the folds in his cape, as if the smoke and death were just a speck of dust before the feast.

Yet just as Rudolph sat down, and before his tea cup was lifted, from the distant mountain pass direction at the frontline, suddenly an earth-shattering roar erupted.

Shortly after, several colossal objects sliced through the sky, crashing down like meteors.

Boulders, giant logs, and other massive objects, accompanied by whistling wind, tore through the mist, crashing heavy into the valley defenses.

Above the main castle, a watchtower was instantly snapped in half, rocks and wood splintered, several archers screamed as they plunged down.

Another flying log cut across the edge of the stone throwing platform, knocking down half the equipment, igniting two yet-to-evacuate petroleum soldiers and the gear alike.

These projectiles lacked precision, and their force fell short of the Empire’s regular artillery but… there were too many, like a calamity raining down from the heavens.

The frontline suddenly descended into chaos, the military formation forced to retreat and reorganize.

Following this, was a series of tremors rolling like thunder from the mountaintop, the ground shuddering.

From the mountain pass side, a giant charging squad composed of dozens of Frost Giants, towering five to ten meters, rampaged forward!