Previously on Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence...
Louis remembers a past hypothesis about the Remont Clan's dragon blood formula having critical flaws due to the removal of metabolic safety valves. Today, he orders his troops to encircle the castle and unleash an experimental 'boiling blood' artillery barrage onto the monster-infested center square, hoping to achieve victory at a lower cost than a direct assault.
The opposite side of the slope, at the Eagle’s Beak Rock Watchtower.
Thomas was prone in the moist, cold grass, utterly still. His eyes were glued to the high-magnification alchemy telescope, his breathing suppressed to the barest minimum.
The scene within the lens caused his brow to furrow deeper. "Something’s... not quite right," he murmured.
The monsters that had been absorbing the crimson mist weren't falling. Instead, their speed surged, an unreasonable acceleration taking hold.
Their paths etched fleeting afterimages on the retina, as if the usual delay between their bodies and their power had been forcibly erased.
Then, a more striking alteration occurred. The obsidian scales covering their forms stood on end, their edges grinding against each other, emitting a dense, piercing "kaka" sound, akin to a pine forest suddenly erupting.
Vast veins bulged beneath their skin. Dark crimson patterns rapidly bloomed across their limbs and torsos, glowing intensely enough to seem to pierce through their very bodies.
In a remarkably short span, their body temperatures escalated uncontrollably. Rainwater hitting their scales lacked the time to bead and slide off, being instantly vaporized.
White steam billowed from the plaza, a vapor forcefully expelled by the sheer intensity of their heat.
This overload of power, it seemed, did not cause them to break down. At least, not yet.
They plunged into a state of near-manic exhilaration.
Some monsters began to frantically claw at their own bodies, the sound of their talons scraping against scales creating an unbearable screech. Others launched themselves at their own kind, biting and tearing off limbs. Still others swung their arms wildly, smashing against the ground.
Thomas’s Adam’s apple bobbed. "If we were to confront them head-on right now..."
He let the sentence hang, unfinished. Yet, every person who heard understood.
In such a frenzied condition, the power these monsters now wielded was sufficient to rip apart a Steam Tank with their bare hands.
The air in the center of the plaza suddenly shifted. It wasn't a sound, but a palpable sense of pressure, more direct and profound.
Thomas’s gaze remained locked on the telescope, his breath instinctively caught in his throat.
Through the lens, those monsters, previously in a frenzy, exhibited a fleeting hesitation in their movements simultaneously.
It was as if a breaking point had been reached.
"Dong." The first muffled thud echoed, originating from within the monsters themselves.
It was followed by a second, then a third.
"Dong. Dong. Dong." The sound was deep and resonant, like hundreds of colossal drums beating in unison.
Even the Knights positioned outside the city walls could perceive a faint tremor beneath their feet. The rhythm had completely lost the pulse of life, replaced by a mechanical, frenzied repetition.
Thomas’s pupils contracted slightly as he witnessed an unbelievable spectacle.
Hundreds of hearts, violently catalyzed by dragon blood, were pounding within their chests at a frequency that exceeded structural integrity.
Within the scope of his vision, the monsters’ bodies began to distend.
Muscle fibers, like taut steel cables, overstretched and snapped one by one. Dark crimson light erupted from the minute gaps between their scales; their blood no longer flowed but boiled.
Raindrops landing upon them vanished instantly. Steam mingled with blood mist, transforming the entire plaza into what appeared to be an immense, pressurized furnace.
"...Reached the critical point," Thomas stated, his voice a low murmur.
The very next second, the largest form at the center of the plaza convulsed violently.
This was the entity that had first completed its transformation, the very 'Zero' that had consumed Kael’s corpse.
It opened its maw, seemingly preparing to vocalize.
But no sound emerged.
"Boom—!" A complete detonation, like a flesh bomb forcibly detonated, propelled high-pressure blood plasma, entrails, and shattered bone fragments outward in an instant.
This singular explosion served as the catalyst.
"Boom!" The second sound.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!" One after another, without any pause.
The chain reaction was fully ignited.
In mere seconds, all the monsters in the plaza, whether fully transformed or still in an unstable phase, disintegrated at their individual breaking points.
They didn't even have the time to comprehend what was happening.
The heart of Grey Rock Castle seemed to respond as if a mad switch had been thrown.
Countless masses of blood mist, fragmented bones, scales, and innards were hurled into the night sky by the intense light generated from the blood overload.
They burst amidst the storm and darkness, layer upon layer, resembling a deliberately orchestrated crimson celebration.
Scarlet and magnificent.
The shockwave from the explosions radiated outward, shattering the remaining glass remnants on the surrounding ramparts.
The sound of breaking glass echoed through the rainy night, only to be swiftly engulfed by even louder roars.
Then, a rain of blood descended, viscous and warm, mingling with residual steam, pouring from the heavens over the entirety of the castle.
Every brick, every surviving wall, was instantly re-painted with a thick scarlet hue.
It was a city of the dead.
And a thoroughly emptied vessel.
Several kilometers away, at the refugee encampment, the storm raged on.
The makeshift rain shelter shuddered faintly with the night breeze, rainwater pressing down the canvas, each drop tracing a path along the ropes to form small depressions in the sodden earth.
A woman stood near the edge of the shelter, clutching a child close to her chest.
The child, having succumbed to sleep, rested their face against her damp cloak, breathing in a steady rhythm, though an occasional light tremor disturbed their slumber, a reaction to distant tremors.
She remained outside the shelter.
In this, she was like many other refugees, standing just beyond its cover.
Their gazes spanned the dark, wild landscape, fixed upon Grey Rock Castle.
The castle was bathed in an intense light.
"...Look," someone's hushed voice broke the silence, "Such a deep red glow."
From this distance, the specifics of the explosion were entirely obscured by the night and the persistent rain.
No blood, no fragments of bone or torn flesh were visible from this vantage point. Only the edges of clouds were illuminated, piled one upon another, as if the very heavens had caught fire.
The radiance even seemed to carry a peculiar warmth, mimicking the illusion of a grand celebratory bonfire.
Within the assembled crowd, there was no exultation.
Nor was there any weeping.
Only the heavy, disordered sound of breaths being drawn.
An elderly man, his face coated in dust, leaned on a crude crutch and stood at the furthest edge of the congregating people.
He narrowed his eyes, observing intently for a considerable duration, as if trying to discern something familiar or to confirm an outcome he had long anticipated.
"That is not fire," he declared, his voice raspy yet remarkably distinct, "It is blood."
Those nearby instinctively turned their heads towards him.
The old man slowly exhaled: "It is the blood of demons, burning."
After a brief pause, he then whispered, "Lord Louis... is cleansing that city."
Nobody offered a word in disagreement.
For these individuals, unaware of the events unfolding within the city walls, the pervasive crimson light served as sufficient explanation.
It was the hue marking the conclusion of their nightmares.
The emblem of the preceding era, consumed by flames.
In their hearts, they perceived this spectacle as a divine retribution, a judgment upon the Remont Clan.
......
Five minutes later, the final dull thudding sound dissipated into the rain-swept night.
Grey Rock Castle descended into complete silence.
Inside the city, no sign of ongoing activity could be detected.
The steady sweep of searchlights swept across the area but failed to illuminate any structure still standing.
Within the central square, not a single intact corpse remained.
Nor were there any complete skeletons.
Only a thick, half-foot layer of dark red slurry persisted, radiating residual heat.
Steam mingled with the coppery scent of blood, swirling in the rain like cooling ashes from a furnace.
Those monstrous entities, once perceived by Kael as insurmountable trump cards capable of shattering the Empire's established order, were utterly annihilated. They were wiped out by the combined might of intelligence and advanced technology, along with the Remont Clan's accumulated sins of decades past.
From his position on the hillside, Louis lowered his telescope.
He no longer gazed at the now-desolate square, turning instead to adjust his cuff. His movements were characteristically composed, as if he had merely concluded a routine check.
"It is finished. All units, proceed into the city. Utilize flamethrowers for street sanitation..."
The commands were logged, relayed, and put into action.
The engines of the Steam Tanks roared back to life, their deep vibrations merging into the fabric of the rainy night.
Their treads advanced deliberately, cutting through the thick, blood-like plasma without hesitation, like a marsh.
Steel plating gleamed with a cold, hard sheen beneath the probing searchlights.
They advanced into the city's maw.
Into this stronghold that had lost its ruling power.
The Grey Rock Province, the era of the Remont Clan.
Following this brief yet spectacular display of crimson fireworks, its end had arrived unequivocally.
