Rise of the Northern Warlord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

On the day of expedition, Crimson Tide Domain’s streets were crowded with people.

Subjects spontaneously gathered on both sides of the road to see off the knights and soldiers about to depart for war.

Vaerik rode at the very front, wearing a black and red cloak with the Tudor family crest embroidered on his shoulder.

Behind him were fully equipped knights and soldiers—a total of eight elite knights, twenty-five formal knights, sixty knight apprentices, and two hundred infantry.

Everyone was armored and armed.

This force, even in the Northern Province, was an elite army ready for immediate combat.

For this expedition, Vaerik brought over half of Crimson Tide Domain’s military strength.

First, Crimson Tide Domain was located in the Northern Province’s southern regions, relatively safe. Even with depleted forces, it wouldn’t face major threats.

Second, he had the Daily Intelligence System, allowing him to know of dangers in advance and avoid enemy surprise attacks or total annihilation.

Since this was the case, he had to bring sufficient forces to achieve more military merits.

This would not only consolidate Crimson Tide Domain’s position but also establish a firm foothold among these established Northern Province nobles.

His goal was to make Crimson Tide Domain’s reputation in this campaign.

In the farewell crowd, Weir stood in the front row, his eyes full of envy.

As a knight apprentice, though he had awakened battle energy, he was too young and his knight skills weren’t yet proficient, so he was left in the territory to continue training.

When Weir watched those imposing knights surrounding Vaerik, his heart filled with yearning. ƒreewebɳovel.com

He too wanted to become such a person, able to follow the great lord to battle.

"Alright, no need to see us off further." Vaerik reined in his horse, surveying the subjects on both sides.

Their faces showed reluctance, but more pride.

Vaerik called out: "Thank you all for the send-off. No matter what enemies lie ahead, we will return victorious!"

Having said this, he pulled the reins and said solemnly: "Depart!"

Iron hooves rang out, battle flags flew in the wind, and the mighty procession moved beyond Crimson Tide Domain.

Behind them, the subjects’ farewell cheers echoed throughout Crimson Tide Domain.

...

In late spring, the Northern Province wilderness still carried traces of cold.

The expedition force camped in lowlands, knights gathering to hunt today’s prey.

Wasteland boars—magical beasts with thick, tough hides, coarse meat but abundant energy.

Vaerik sat on horseback, watching the charging boar magical beast ahead, casually instructing: "Be careful, don’t damage too much meat."

"Leave it to me!"

A knight apprentice leaped up, his battle energy-infused spear thrusting down, but the spear tip bounced off the boar’s hard skin—insufficient force, failing to penetrate!

"Haha! Your strength isn’t enough!"

A nearby formal knight laughed, his spear thrusting down smoothly, piercing armor in one strike, blood splattering the wasteland.

The boar wailed and collapsed, knights quickly moving forward to finish it, ending this hunt.

Vaerik departed early with time to spare.

Anyway, other lords would probably arrive just on time—he didn’t need to go early and stand out.

So he simply used his Daily Intelligence System to lead knights hunting along the way.

Though magical beast threats were significant, for these elite knights, as long as they weren’t high-rank magical beasts, they could easily handle them.

Thus every day before departure, they would hunt conveniently, returning to camp with some spoils.

Knights had long grown accustomed to Vaerik’s seemingly "prophetic" good luck.

Every day before departure, the lord would casually point: "There should be magical beasts over there today, let’s check."

Then they’d go and find prey.

Though most catches were low-level magical beasts like wasteland boars, split-horn antelopes, and iron-feathered wolves, the meat was firm and energy-rich, enough to fill stomachs and slightly increase strength.

Initially they were somewhat surprised, but after many occurrences, everyone became numb.

They simply attributed it to: "The lord is blessed by Dragon Ancestor—we just follow along and enjoy the benefits."

Start traveling in the morning, hunt at noon, roast meat around campfires at night, sleep after eating and drinking well.

More comfortable than training in the territory.

After several days, knights increasingly enjoyed this lifestyle.

Campfires blazed, firewood crackling in flames, sending up wisps of fragrant smoke.

Large pieces of magical beast meat on roasting racks dripped fat, making "sizzling" sounds, aroma filling the entire camp.

"Smells so good! Hurry up!" A knight apprentice swallowed saliva, eyes fixed on the roast meat.

The knight in charge of turning the meat laughed and scolded: "What’s the rush? It tastes best when properly cooked."

Nearby soldiers also gathered around, swallowing sounds rising and falling.

Usually they ate mostly black wheat bread and salted fish.

Now being able to heartily eat fresh roast meat was like a dream, though they could only eat ordinary game.

"Tonight is Dragon Ancestor’s blessing!" A foot soldier excitedly raised his wine pouch, boldly taking a gulp.

Another foot soldier agreed: "Haha, following the lord on expedition is happier than drilling in the territory!"

This atmosphere was completely unlike an expedition—more like a spring outing, wasn’t it?

Vaerik looked around at knights relaxing around campfires.

Some cut meat with daggers, some set up pots to boil magical beast bone soup, some raised cups laughing, others grabbed whole chunks of meat to devour heartily.

Who went on bandit suppression expeditions so leisurely?

But seeing soldiers’ smiling faces and satisfied eating, he ultimately shook his head and smiled.

Fine, work-life balance.

Just then, a knight quickly approached to report: "Lord, we encountered Baron John’s forces on the east side. They’re heading this way."

Vaerik was slightly stunned, his mind immediately conjuring that round figure.

The little fatty who always cheerfully called him "boss."

Right, his territory was also nearby, so he’d probably also need to assemble at Snow Eagle City.

"Oh? What a coincidence."

He had just finished sighing when soon urgent hoofbeats came from the distance.

"Boss—!!"

Accompanied by familiar shouting, an elliptical-shaped knight charged over.

John Harvey jumped off his horse, excitedly running toward Vaerik, his face showing long-missed excitement.

Vaerik looked at him, stunned for a moment.

John had indeed lost quite a bit of weight.

The formerly round meatball had now become an elliptical outline, though essentially still a fatty.

But the next second, John’s gaze was attracted by the roast meat by the campfire.

He stared directly, his Adam’s apple rolling slightly.

"Gulp."

The swallowing sound was particularly clear in the night wind.

Vaerik’s mouth corner twitched slightly as he casually tore off a piece of roast meat and handed it over: "Uh... want some?"

John nodded frantically, his eyes lighting up.

He immediately took the roast meat and bit down hard, showing a blissful expression.