Rise of the Northern Warlord: Starting with Daily Intelligence-Chapter 67: Setup

The icy night wind swept through the valley like a knife slicing across faces.

Vaerik led his troops onto a small path leading to Clear Feather Ridge.

The mountain road was narrow, with vertical rock walls on both sides, just wide enough for single-file passage.

Horses could no longer proceed, so everyone dismounted and forcefully pulled their reins, walking forward one after another in line.

"This... how can there be a mountain road here?" John panted, looking down at the deep valley below his feet, his scalp tingling. "It’s not marked on the map at all."

"Probably an old smuggling route," Vaerik replied casually, his expression calm. "An old hunter told me about it."

He didn’t explain further and continued leading the troops forward.

Behind them, Bond silently observed the advancing column.

He was an envoy sent by the Governor, nominally there to provide military advice, but actually to supervise whether nobles were paying lip service or betraying the Empire.

He had been observing this force throughout the journey.

Every soldier carried backup weapons; their equipment wasn’t fancy but was clean and efficient, all designed for actual combat.

Moreover, their formation was orderly—even the supply troops bringing up the rear showed no panic.

When Vaerik issued an order, even the soldiers at the very back immediately responded without need for supervision.

"Like a carefully trained army," Bond thought to himself. "Not like a hastily assembled force, and certainly not like those southern nobles’ troops who only know how to put on airs."

Of course, what surprised him most was Vaerik himself.

Though young, he was genuinely respected by his subordinates from the heart.

He always walked at the front of the column with no retinue clustering around him and no unnecessary words. He occasionally stopped to confirm the terrain, focused like a hunter.

"Turn left, there’s a fork over there." Vaerik personally led the advance guard into an even narrower slope path.

Bond couldn’t help but look up at Vaerik.

This noble youth didn’t seem like someone new to this area at all—rather, he moved like someone inspecting his own backyard, with a sense of control.

Most surprising was that the mountain path they were now taking was clearly a secret route that almost no one had discovered.

It wasn’t marked on military maps, and judging by the surrounding grass conditions, it looked like no one had walked here before.

Yet Vaerik walked without hesitation, as if he already knew every turn and every stone.

"If there’s any shortcoming..."

Bond frowned, his gaze falling on the supply train that had just arrived at the end of the mountain path.

Their marching speed was obviously half a beat slower, as if deliberately delaying.

Just as the troops at the end of the mountain path had stabilized their formation, two scout riders came galloping up.

"Report!" They dismounted before Vaerik and knelt in salute: "We’ve discovered a Snow Swearer outpost three li ahead with approximately two hundred garrison troops."

Vaerik merely nodded lightly: "Two hundred men... we can take them. I need the enemy’s defensive lines, patrol routes, and surrounding terrain."

"Yes!" The scout knights mounted again and quickly disappeared down the small path.

Bond stood to the side, his brow unconsciously furrowing.

"He actually found a Snow Swearer stronghold," he muttered quietly.

This stronghold had existed for a long time, long controlled by the Snow Swearers, and had always been a problem for the Northern Province Governor.

Because its position was extremely strategic.

The mountain ranges between Snow Peak Prefecture and Ice Sea Prefecture were complex, and Clear Feather Ridge was one of the few shortcuts.

Controlling this place would mean controlling the throat passage for Snow Swearer retreats and reinforcements.

Several military expeditions had been sent to try to eliminate this location.

But the stronghold was too well-hidden and easily defended but hard to attack—several attempts had failed.

If Vaerik could really take this place, it would be at least a first-class merit!

But the problem was he hadn’t requested reinforcements, hadn’t observed, and hadn’t shown the slightest hesitation.

Just one phrase "we can take them" and he planned to directly consume it?

Too bold...

Bond looked at the young figure walking ahead, his mind churning.

But soon he realized something else.

How could such an important stronghold as Clear Feather Ridge have only two hundred men?

This number didn’t seem right.

This strategic location—the Snow Swearers couldn’t possibly have only two hundred men.

Where did the other forces go?

Bond suddenly had an ominous premonition.

...

That night, in Snow Eagle City’s banquet hall, candles still burned and cups and dishes lay scattered.

A messenger knight burst through the doors in dusty haste, nearly stumbling as he rushed to the main table:

"Report! Forward scouts report discovering large numbers of Snow Swearer cavalry approaching Snow Eagle City—it looks like... over a thousand men!"

Earl Foss’s wine cup trembled in his hand, spilling over half his body.

"O-one thousand?" He asked again, thinking he’d misheard.

"Large numbers of Snow Swearer cavalry discovered approaching Snow Eagle City, approximately one thousand men." The messenger knight repeated.

"Impossible... how is this possible!"

He nearly staggered to his feet: "Weren’t we supposed to march out and eliminate the Snow Swearers? How could they be the ones attacking us?"

Before his words finished, another messenger knight hurriedly pushed through the door: "My lord, Viscount Webster is at the city wall and wants you to come quickly!"

Night had fallen, and only scattered torches remained on Snow Eagle City’s walls.

Viscount Webster had already climbed to the battlements, wearing a thick cloak, gazing at the distant snowfields.

Between the rolling snowdrifts, a black tide was rapidly approaching.

These weren’t ordinary cavalry—they were Snow Swearer wolf riders.

The snow wolves ran like shadows, their steps silent yet raising clouds of snow dust.

Their riders wore beast pelts and scale armor, silver light flashing, carrying an aura of menace.

Every mount was muscular with glowing blue pupils and exposed fangs, as if ready to pounce and tear at prey.

That wild momentum was almost suffocating.

"Snow Swearer wolf riders," Webster said in a deep voice.

A young knight beside him instinctively gripped his weapon tighter, frowning: "Only a few hundred men..."

Webster shook his head, his gaze like iron: "This is the vanguard. There are definitely more behind them."

He gripped his sword hilt, his tone low: "They’re going to assault the city."

Footsteps sounded as more nobles hurried up, crowding onto the battlements.

Earl Foss gasped as he climbed the stairs. Seeing the black shadows in the snow, his face immediately changed: "This... this... what’s happening?"

The noble group on the city walls immediately fell into chaos.

"How did it become them attacking us instead!"

"Why was there no advance warning?"

"Can this city be defended?"

Some nobles spoke over each other, faces pale, nearly collapsing.

Especially Foss, gripping the battlements with a trembling voice: "Oh my! This... what should we do..."

While Webster still stood in the wind and snow, his gaze calm.

"Concentrate the archer and spear units on the north wall, and transfer several hundred knights over," he ordered. "Hold against the first wave of assault."