Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 705 - 396: Dog_3

Ackman flicked his hand in irritation, set to command the guards to haul away this repulsive nuisance.

Morkan hastily played his final card, his tone nearly quivering, though he fought to uphold the poise befitting his noble status:

"Lord Ackman... Lord Louis Calvin, the Red Tide Lord, has tasked me with delivering this personal letter to you. Should you condescend to peruse it, its deep significance will become clear."

Ackman’s eyebrow jerked; evidently, Louis proved shrewder than he had assumed.

He ripped the envelope apart right away and started reading it line by line.

Shadows danced across his face from the hearth’s wavering flames, growing ever more grim.

Ackman glanced at the opening line, veins throbbing fiercely on his forehead.

"To the Seventeenth Legion—Interim Overseer Ackman."

Interim Overseer—not "Commander" or "Your Excellency."

This provisional rank rarely appeared in Imperial paperwork, dripping with disdain.

Ackman let out a low, menacing chuckle.

As he pressed on with the reading, the letter’s phrases hit every chord of aristocratic shame:

"It has come to my astonishment that your subordinates have acted erratically of late, like uncultured prairie dogs, even plundering noble caravans, sullying the honor of the Imperial Army."

This conduct constitutes treason. In consideration of your humble origins and ignorance of proper decorum, I have specially dispatched Baron Morkan to educate you in these matters.

You are to return all materials within three days and kneel in Frost Halberd City to receive thirty lashes. I may then consider not indicting your head in the Dragon Throne assembly."

The bold signature claimed authority: Count of Red Tide, Acting Governor of the Northern Territory—Louis Calvin

The chamber hung in utter silence as he read the letter.

Abruptly, Ackman erupted in laughter, harsh and savage like iron chains scraping stone: "Hahaha... Louis! Louis! You genius!"

He guffawed until tears threatened to spill, yet behind his grin lurked a burning murderous urge.

Morkan witnessed the laughter and assumed fortune had shifted, so he forced a shaky chuckle: "The Commander is right, Lord Louis’s words are always... very reasonable... Then my goods..."

The mirth cut off sharply.

Ackman’s stare froze like glacial frost: "Teach me decorum? You bring this letter to humiliate me?"

"Wha-what...?" Morkan paled, too stunned to respond.

Ackman drew his blade with lightning speed.

A gleam of icy steel flashed, and blood sprayed across the "Northern Defensive Pact."

Morkan’s severed head tumbled to the floor, frozen in a bootlicking grin, as though clinging to a nonexistent pardon even in death.

Ackman eyed the absurd severed head and murmured, "This, is your sincerity to me."

He booted it viciously aside: "Very well, I’ll accept it, and with your life, I’ll embark on my path to Dukeness."

......

Gripping his gore-smeared sword, Ackman strode boldly from the hidden room.

His loyal commanders packed the adjacent space.

Spotting the crimson stains on him, they collectively held their breaths.

Ackman smashed the letter down on the table, his voice booming like a war drum:

"Look carefully! The Red Tide Lord, Louis Calvin, colludes with smugglers, threatens the Imperial garrison, and attempts to divide the Northern Territory! This is a provocation against the Empire, against all our legions!"

The commanders traded glances, none bold enough to challenge, but all grasping Ackman’s scheme.

Ackman thrust his sword aloft, its crimson sheen on his features lending a frenzied, ecstatic air: "This letter is a declaration of war from him! And our ticket into the circle of nobility!

Immediately send word to Sol of the Iron Wall from the Fourteenth Legion and the Mad Dog Bart from the Seventh Legion! Tell them... Louis has made his move!

Let them choose for themselves, whether to remain as watchdogs or come to partake in this feast of meat!"

The commanders stirred with fervor and rushed off to execute the commands with zeal.

In the end, Ackman alone remained by the window.

Blizzard winds and snow lashed the sturdy panes, resembling distant murmurs.

His gaze pierced north to Frost Halberd City, hub of Northern Territory aristocrats.

Predatory fire blazed in his eyes.

"Heaven-sent opportunity, once I take Frost Halberd City, I’ll seize the chance to capture all those meeting nobles in one sweep... Heh...

No matter who becomes Emperor in the Imperial Capital, they would have to beseech me to ennoble me as a hereditary Duke!"

Behind him, two guards hauled Morkan’s headless body over the ground, its bloody trail glaring like a scarlet path leading to Frost Halberd City.