Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 755 - 421: Grand Finale

A biting wind swept across the hillside.

Amidst the wreckage, Thomas assumed a kneeling posture on one knee, signaling his team, and the White Night Squad gracefully dispersed, taking cover along the ridgeline.

Several potent beams, like surgical lamps banishing shadows, cut from the hillside into Grey Rock Castle, dissecting the darkness that clung to the main gate.

As these lights traversed the area, dust clouds erupted in tandem with lingering traces of blood mist, casting a murky, dark crimson hue over the distant atmosphere.

Then, a distinct sound of mastication reached Thomas's ears.

"Chomp... chomp..."

The abrasive crunch of bone and the tearing of flesh echoed through the desolate castle courtyard, amplified by the surrounding walls, creating an unsettling symphony of simultaneous feasting.

"Damn it." A hushed curse escaped one of the White Night Squad members.

Though uttered softly, the sound could not fully quell the primal unease bubbling in their chests.

Even these seasoned knights, accustomed to the grim theater of battlefields strewn with bodies, found themselves unsettled by such a visceral noise.

The searchlights persisted in their sweep, illuminating the grotesque mountain of remains at the heart of the square.

Shattered armor, crimson-stained silks, and crushed forms lay intertwined, resembling a burial mound brutally and repeatedly disturbed.

And perched atop this grim tableau were... entities.

Hundreds of them.

Squinting, Thomas's Fighting Energy subtly vibrated at the periphery of his vision, granting him a clarity far exceeding that of ordinary sight.

These beings could scarcely be recognized as 'human' any longer.

Their limbs were grotesquely elongated, joints contorting backward, and their bodies were encased in a rough, gray-black hide, contorted into unnatural and disturbing configurations.

They stood as monstrous figures, each easily surpassing two meters in height, possessing unusually large skeletal structures yet moving with an unnerving, grounded stability.

Beneath the harsh glare, their vertical pupils remained devoid of any discernible emotion, fixated solely on the mechanical act of consuming and swallowing.

Surrounding these fully formed monstrosities were hundreds more, their forms incomplete.

The mutation within these individuals was clearly still in its nascent stages.

Bizarre skeletal protrusions strained beneath their skin, and their muscles spasmed erratically.

Some would abruptly cease their feeding, as if seized by an unbearable, persistent agony, only to return moments later with renewed, frenzied savagery upon the flesh before them.

"...Still undergoing transformation," Thomas murmured, his voice low.

What disturbed him even more was their inherent power.

Flashes of dark crimson Fighting Energy pulsed intermittently between the gaps in their scaled hides.

When individual members were grievously wounded or trampled by their brethren, their visibly damaged forms began to writhe and reform, knitting themselves back together with startling speed, as if being forcibly reassembled by an unseen force.

A wave of instinctive revulsion rippled through the White Night Squad, causing some to grip their weapons more tightly.

"Captain," the deputy whispered, his voice strained, "These are no longer human."

Thomas offered no immediate reply.

His gaze remained fixed upon the unfolding horror within the castle gate, observing the slow, deliberate movements of these creatures as they fed and consolidated upon the mound of bodies.

They displayed an utter lack of reaction to the intense searchlights and seemed completely oblivious to the observers hidden in the distance.

Thomas let out a slow breath, an outward sign of the turmoil he was suppressing within.

"Log their numbers and observed characteristics. Maintain a safe distance. Notify us immediately if any attempt to leave the gate perimeter."

Thomas understood acutely that even with the full might of the White Night Squad, composed of extraordinary knights, this was an area they were not meant to enter.

He deliberately shifted his gaze away from the chaotic scene at the gate, his eyes instinctively drawn to the vista behind the hill.

The view presented there stood in stark opposition to the mayhem unfolding within the castle walls.

Outside the gate, a chilling, almost funereal order prevailed.

A formation of formidable Black Steam Tanks was arrayed in a fan shape along the incline, their treads digging deep into the sodden earth, effectively sealing every conceivable exit from Grey Rock Castle.

Their metallic shells, polished to a dull sheen by the relentless rain, resembled solid blocks of cooled obsidian.

Residual heat emanated from their gun barrels, causing the raindrops that struck them to dissipate into faint wisps of white steam.

Positioned behind this armored phalanx were thousands of Red Tide Knights.

They stood in silent formation within the downpour, their cloaks hanging limply, the crimson insignia emblazoned on their armor gleaming with a cold, hard intensity amidst the deluge.

No words were exchanged, no signs of impatience were visible; every individual awaited the command from Louis.

On one side, a biological contagion spreading with the virulence of a plague. On the other, an industrial colossus, meticulously assembled and poised to unleash ruthless efficiency at a moment's notice.

Thomas found himself positioned between these two opposing forces, recognizing this as a conflict far removed from traditional warfare.

He glanced back towards the illuminated castle gate, a residual unease churning in his gut, yet his resolve remained unshaken.

This was not due to any underestimation of the monstrous entities.

Quite the contrary; his clear perception confirmed that this was not a stage upon which the lives of knights should be risked.

Thomas placed his trust implicitly in Lord Louis.

This faith was not born from mere subservience nor from high status, but from victories that were repeatedly demonstrated.

Throughout the years, when faced with decisions that appeared doomed to fail, even seeming misguided to all observers, Louis invariably selected the most advantageous route from an abundance of possibilities.

Even if his choices baffled everyone at the moment, later examinations of the events would invariably show that Lord Louis had always opted for the best possible resolution.

Consequently, he felt no anxiety.

Even if the spectacle behind the gate presented a hellish scene, and even if those entities continued their relentless transformations.

As long as Louis remained present, everything unfolded according to a grander design, with the most fitting solution already determined.

Thomas held the conviction that this occasion would prove to be no different.

......

The steady percussion of rainfall echoed upon the metallic exteriors of the combat vehicles.

Louis occupied a folding table, his fingertips tracing the contours of a map, his gaze fixed upon the blurry images being relayed from the vanguard.

Within the defensive perimeter of Grey Rock Castle's main gate, grotesque shapes advanced sluggishly beneath the piercing beams of the searchlights.