CHAPTER 68: CHAPTER 68: ARSON AND MURDER

The Barnes forces arrived at the outskirts of Snow Eagle City, and in just one night, they had encircled Snow Eagle City.

They sealed three sides, leaving only a gap on the West Gate side.

However, they did not immediately attack the city; they seemed to be up to something.

...

In the same military tent, the nobility of Snow Sealed County gathered once more.

Unlike the last meeting where there was a farcical ease, the hall now was enveloped in a heavy atmosphere.

Count Fos, who had previously made a drunken scene at the meeting, was now silent.

He huddled in his chair like a quail, not daring to breathe too heavily.

Viscount Webster sat in armor, with a grave expression on his face.

"The Snow Swearer comes aggressively, estimated to number around two thousand, but the advantage is on our side," Webster began, his gaze sweeping over everyone.

"The garrison of Snow Eagle City numbers two thousand, with over a thousand knights capable of fighting. A direct confrontation still offers a chance of victory.

But I recommend being cautious and defending the city."

He paused: "I have already sent a plea for help to Duke Edmund, but it is estimated that the army will take ten days to arrive here.

However, we have enough provisions, the city defenses are strong, and as long as we hold out, reinforcements will arrive."

The crowd nodded slightly in agreement, as there was no better plan.

"Next, we’ll adopt zoned defense." Webster spread out a map of Snow Eagle City.

"Although the southern wall is old, its terrain is wide. If the enemy dares to launch a full assault here, we can annihilate them in one go.

I suggest that the Southern Pioneer Nobles guard it, as your people are new and horses fast, making you well-suited to hold this area."

His tone shifted as he looked at several Northern Lords: "The north and east walls lie close to the granaries and inner city, requiring those familiar with the terrain to defend them.

Veteran family private soldiers are most familiar with these areas, and they are easy to mobilize."

His words were logical and impeccable on the surface.

But the Southern Nobles exchanged glances, their expressions immediately changing.

This was clearly giving them the most dangerous and thankless positions.

On the side of the Northern Lords, no one spoke.

They seemed to have an understanding, quietly nodding and accepting the Viscount’s favoritism.

Several young Southern Pioneer Nobles opened their mouths to say something, but ultimately swallowed their words.

The tent fell silent for a moment.

Everyone understood, yet no one spoke up.

Count Fos, seated at the head, pretended not to hear, bowing his head deeper.

The meeting continued.

Viscount Webster assigned other defense details one by one:

"Crossbows in the arrow towers need recalibration, and should be checked at least twice daily."

"Molten oil and rolling stones need to be prepared in advance, handled by experienced hands, no mistakes allowed."

"Increase the frequency of shifts on the city walls, especially near the West Gate."

...

With the last order given, the meeting finally concluded.

Outside the hall, the cold wind howled.

Several Southern Nobles exited the tent together, their faces ashen.

"What does it mean by ’new people and fast horses’?" one of them sneered, "Such nice words, but anyone can see they’re thrusting us into the flames."

"Those old foxes from the Northern Territory are all guarding themselves closely, tsk... truly treating us as outsiders."

"Heh, we’re just here, but we have to watch our lives too."

The words were biting, but the tone couldn’t be too loud, venting their frustrations in the cold wind.

But that very night, people from many noble households quietly started to move.

At the stables, someone secretly inspected saddles and reins.

The guards who were changing shifts on the city walls were slipped a few gold coins.

Even near the secret passages by the city gates and the sewer openings behind the fort, people began to investigate.

They were preparing escape routes for themselves.

As the Snow Swearer laid siege, Snow Eagle City had not yet fallen, but its defenders were already harboring their ulterior motives.

...

The night fell silent and deep.

"Move."

Louis commanded softly.

Over a hundred Red Tide Knights quietly rose, using the mountain path cover to approach the Snow Swearer camp from behind.

The scouts had already mapped out the enemy’s patrol lines, and Louis picked a vulnerable point to break through.

The vanguard squad infiltrated the camp and started fires as a distraction, pouring petroleum and unleashing fire arrows.

Several tents were instantly engulfed in flames, and as the flames leapt, the rear of the enemy camp fell into chaos.

From the rear of the camp, a red streak dashed in like a meteor.

Lambert led the charge, with ten elite Red Tide Knights following closely.

Their fighting energy intertwined into a scarlet channel, piercing directly at the Snow Swearer’s central command tent.

Inside the tent, the Snow Swearer’s garrison commander awoke with a start, hearing the chaos outside, furrowing his brow, he grabbed his war axe and charged out at once.

"An enemy attack? Impossible! How did they find..."

Before he finished speaking, the sword edge had reached him.

In an instant, he parried with his axe, fighting energy sparking, forcefully meeting Lambert’s strike and forcing Lambert and his horse to retreat several paces.

The surge of fighting energy shook the tent, flipping the tent cloth, enough to show his formidable strength.

Unfortunately, it was of no use.

Ten elite Red Tide Knights slipped in silently, the firelight reflecting off their armor, resembling death.

The commander roared and swung his axe, the icy axe wind pushing back two enemies.

But the Red Tide Knights cooperated seamlessly, their attack impenetrable, advancing relentlessly.

Lambert steadied his body and stabbed out with his longsword once more, which the commander struggled to parry.

As he tried to counterattack again, two knights slashed his shoulder and arm from the sides, blood splattering.

Immediately after, a glint of cold steel flashed from behind, a lance piercing his chest.

The axe fell to the ground, the Snow Swearer commander eyes wide, filled with disbelief even in death.

Outside the tent, the fire illuminated the valley, screams rising.

The Red Tide Knights divided into several squads, flowing through the enemy camp like streams of flame emerging from the night, starting fires everywhere.

Of course, they weren’t setting fires indiscriminately; places like the granary and treasury were guarded rather than burned.

As the flames rose, the enemy force descended into utter chaos.

The Snow Swearers were wholly unprepared; the commander was dead, and the deputy was beheaded without warning.

Warriors fled in the night and firelight, some armored, some barefoot, shouting all around.

"Enemy attack! From where!"

"From the rear! No, the north side too!"

The shouts were mixed, and no one could clearly define the number or origin of the attackers.

The Red Tide squads kept infiltrating and retreating, attacking for just a few moments before changing targets.

Before the enemy could organize a counterattack, the next camp was already ablaze.

Very soon, the battle line was completely torn apart.

The main force of the Red Tide Knights finally struck, in squads of thirty, charging from various points in the woods.

A single round of charge shredded the densest camp area.

The Snow Swearer barely organized a defense, only to be shattered by hooves, pierced by lances, and burned by fighting energy.

Some squads tried to form a battle array but were completely suppressed before they could even start.

Ordinary soldiers fled, fell, screamed, trampling over each other’s bodies as they ran to the woods.

They were cut down in the forests by Red Tide Knights lurking in the shadows.

The entire camp seemed consumed by hell, the ground stained red by fire, mud mixed with blood flowing beneath their feet.

"The hunt has begun."

Louis stood by the burning archery tower, the red glow reflected in his eyes, faintly arrogant.