The night over Qingyu Ridge remained deep, with lingering fires flickering in the mountains, illuminating the blood-stained snow.The battle was over.Red Tide's flanking tactics had completely succeeded; the Snowsworn forces were forcibly torn into several isolated units, losing their coordination and being defeated one by one.This was a massacre, not a battle.Although the knights Yoen brought lacked practical combat experience, under the guidance of the Red Tide Knights, they were assigned to the periphery, specifically to clear out enemies attempting to escape.They patrolled the edges of the battlefield in echelons, intercepting every enemy trying to flee and cutting them down with a single sword.But the Snowsworn were not ordinary soldiers after all.They roared, igniting the fighting spirit within their bodies, forcibly entering a state of “Boiling Blood,” and still caused considerable casualties.A few successfully escaped, fleeing north, carrying news of this bloody battle.But that could no longer change the outcome.Qingyu Ridge had fallen.Meanwhile, Louis's side suffered minimal casualties, losing only eighteen knights, while the Snowsworn were almost completely annihilated.The entire battle was precise and swift, like a textbook-level night raid annihilation.Of course, if there hadn't been that small path, and if it hadn't been for the cover of night, Louis, even with three times the force, would have been dragged into a quagmire by the Snowsworn.Bond stood in the dilapidated tent, looking at the now pacified Qingyu Ridge, his face filled with disbelief.He looked down at the mottled bloodstains on the battlefield, then looked up at the Red Tide Knights who were lining up and reorganizing.“This… we took it?” he murmured.Duke Edmund had been unable to resolve the Qingyu Ridge stronghold for several years, always considering it a major headache.But now, in a single night, Louis had taken it.Clean and decisive, without prolonged tug-of-war, without chaotic sieges, and without even a decent frontal battle.Bond looked at that young figure.Louis stood on a high point of the mountain path, calmly giving instructions to several knights regarding post-battle matters.It was as if all of this was exactly as it should be.“Truly a young hero,” Bond whispered.Yoen stood beside Louis, barely able to contain his smile.“I’ve earned merit, haven’t I?” he asked in a low voice, his tone full of uncontainable excitement, “When this battle report goes back, my name should be on it for the Governor, right?”He had barely lifted a finger, only leading that group of knights to intercept a few waves of fleeing soldiers.He had won in a daze.He rubbed his hands excitedly, realizing that clinging tightly to his boss’s leg would indeed bring great benefits.After clearing the battlefield, the soldiers began to tally the spoils.Several camps and caves were thoroughly searched, filled with grain stores, leather, dried meat, and arrows.There were also looted valuables: silver and gold artifacts, gold coins, wool fabric rolls, and some old Snow Country currency.There were even several thick tactical manuals, all sealed in waterproof oilcloth and perfectly preserved.It seemed the Snowsworn were truly not ordinary bandits; they also knew how to strive for improvement.But the most unique spoil of war was the mirror carried out by soldiers from behind a tent.The shattered mirror surface was embedded in a round obsidian frame, its cracks like a spiderweb, yet it reflected an eerie blue light.“Hidden Mist Mirror,” Bond recognized the item, his tone complex, “No wonder every time we tried to clear them out, we came up empty… so it was because of this.”Louis glanced at him, reached out to touch the edge of the mirror frame, and asked, “How long can this thing be used?”“It can only last for about ten minutes, and it cannot cover too large an area, but it’s enough for camp camouflage. If anyone approaches, they will only see a desolate area or ruins.”Louis’s gaze fell on the crack-riddled mirror surface; he thought for a moment, then said, “What an unexpectedly useful item.”Bond listened attentively from the side, seeing Louis’s calm expression, yet a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.“They will soon discover that Qingyu Ridge has fallen,” Louis continued, “At that time, they will certainly send people back to investigate and try to retake the stronghold.”He turned his head and looked at the valley where the fighting had just subsided.“If we can use this mirror to disguise this place as ruins… and ambush a unit here.”He paused, a barely perceptible curve forming at the corner of his lips.“I’ll wait for them to walk right into the trap.”The soldiers wrapped the Hidden Mist Mirror and placed it into an iron box.… … … …The snowy night was deep, ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) and the campfires flickered faintly.Bond sat in the tent, pulled his cloak tighter, spread out parchment on the table, and began to write.This was a formal battle report to Duke Edmund, concerning the recapture of Qingyu Ridge, the defeat of the Snowsworn, and, more importantly, the performance of the young noble.In the letter, he detailed how Louis had guided the troops to bypass and launch a surprise attack, how he precisely divided the enemy forces, and how he made the Red Tide Knights cooperate in battle.Even the divine artifact, the Hidden Mist Mirror, which could conceal the camp’s aura, was recorded.He also reminded that although Qingyu Ridge had been recaptured, the Snowsworn would surely react, and might even be gathering forces for a counterattack.This place was crucial for annihilating the Snowsworn, and he implored the Duke to quickly send reinforcements to consolidate the victory.At the end of the letter, Bond exceptionally added a personal assessment.“This battle demonstrates Baron Calvin’s command ability and insight, which far exceed his age and experience. With further cultivation, he may become a pillar of the Northern Territory in the future.”He sighed softly, pushed open the tent flap, and stepped outside, tying the letter to a Swiftwind Bird.This was a type of communication magical beast widely used by imperial nobles and the military; it was small in size but extremely fast, able to avoid conventional tracking and magical interference during flight.It let out a low cry, seemingly sensing the importance of its mission, and immediately folded its wings, pushed off the ground, and disappeared into the sky in an instant.… … … …Viscount Webster had been somewhat troubled lately.On the first day of the Snowsworn’s siege, they had used the fog and night to launch a probing attack.They didn’t seem eager to assault the city, but rather to disrupt the morale of the defenders.Viscount Webster had guarded the city walls all night, his nerves taut, but what truly gave him a headache was not the enemy, but his own people.Noble forces from various regions had no sense of coordination whatsoever.They ignored commands and deployments, and their reinforcements were sluggish; he had lost his temper several times over this, but it was no use.A few of the old nobles in the Northern Territory still listened to his commands.But those frontier lords from the south, while outwardly agreeable, were either hesitant or perfunctory when it came to actually deploying troops.He knew he was not a commander by nature.When the old Earl Firth was still in power, he was only responsible for charging into battle.Back then, he could earn merit by simply wielding his battle saber, without needing to think too much.But now it was different; old Firth’s heir was too weak and couldn’t hold things together.He was forced into a position that didn't belong to him, yet he couldn't step down.He stood on the city wall, gazing at the gray distance, his heart equally bleak.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.