Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest

The Silver Moon Knights and the witches in the tribe shivered in unison.

The flame of the bonfire flickered, casting anxious shadows.

That kind of sinister cold seeped into their bones, as if it could freeze their limbs and blood.

"Why...why has it become so cold!" exclaimed one Silver Moon Knight.

Though the temperature on the snow plain does fluctuate between day and night, it never changes so abruptly.

"This phenomenon must be caused by mana...some extremely powerful cold magic," whispered the Saya Witch.

A young knight asked, "Does this have anything to do with the Frost Witch?"

The assistant captain and Laisa's task tonight was to awaken the Frost Witch; her revival might cause such a situation, as each Seat Witch contains powerful energy within.

Though the affected range was somewhat terrifying, without such formidable power, how else could they have traveled thousands of miles here?

"This power does not belong to Lady Valia!" asserted the witch.

They had all fought alongside Valia and knew her power was not like this.

Another witch said, "This power is filled with bitterness, lifelessness...unless Lady Valia has died, it wouldn't be like this..."

"An anomaly to the northeast!" the lookout reported.

The Silver Moon Knights quickly picked up their weapons and rushed out of the tent.

They looked around and noticed the sky snowing lightly; the night did not appear dark but bright as day.

The Frost Tribe was evidently in chaos.

An aging Frost Priest understood the situation and stood in the center of the crowd; despite wrinkled skin, his bones remain tall and strong.

He raised his sturdy and resilient arms, calling out loudly.

"...The vile herd has come! They are our mortal enemies, the culprits that drove us from our homeland to the snow plains!

"Just like the eternal warfare between our forefathers and the alien god, which has not ceased to this day!

"In the realm of cold, only one side can survive!

"Expel them from our world! Exterminate them completely!!"

The priest's voice was overwhelming, silencing the chaos and filled with righteous anger.

"Exterminate completely! Exterminate completely!!" The Frost people cried out mightily, temporarily overwhelming the atmosphere.

The Frost Priest rallied the crowd, leading many spear-wielding Frost people towards the northeast.

A knight observed this and murmured, "I think, the protagonist of the ghost story should be appearing soon..."

Someone asked, "With the assistant captain not here, and Laisa and Gwen's lordship also absent, what shall we do now?"

Many Silver Moon Knights exchanged glances; the Frost people clearly entered into a state of war; they were merely outsiders, naturally ignored, unaware if it's due to insensitivity or any other reason.

A squad leader said, "Wait for orders."

The sentry soldiers only saw abnormal shadows emerging from the northeast, like a large moving pale ice block on the vast snow plain, which is very unusual.

Normal eyesight might struggle to capture such anomalies, but not the extremely perceptive Two-Star Angel Envoy.

The Silver Moon Knights watched batch after batch of Frost Warriors rushing to the distance, until the Frost Tribe seemed deserted.

They could only wait in place.

Over ten Silver Moon Knights stood aligned in rows, solemnly arrayed on open ground, their silver armor emitting a halo, sacred and transcendent, bright as moonlight.

Snowflakes falling during deep night grew denser, the air temperature became colder, and the restless hearts grew more agitated.

Fortunately, they did not have to wait long.

Herman returned with a cold expression, followed by Gwen and Monica, the two Senior Witches.

"Where is Lady Laisa?" the Silver Moon Knights asked in unison.

Lord Roman had ordered that Laisa and the Silver Moon Gem are the most important; if it came to a decision point, they must bring Laisa and the gem back at any cost.

"Not yet finished!" Herman pointed in the direction he came from.

The light illuminating the night was coming from there, and the light source was the gem held by Laisa.

The Silver Moon Gem illuminated this snow plain, bright as a white night.

Did this phenomenon also attract those abominations?

Herman mused.

Was it their arrival that disturbed the abominations, or did the abominations originally covet the Frost Tribe?

"What do we do now?"

"Let's go have a look!" Herman said grimly.

They were supposed to ride war horses, but those horses lost their mobility in the extreme cold, let alone charge; riding was difficult.

Motion would raise body temperature and improve blood circulation, but you can't overcome physiological limits like this; forced riding would only cause the war horses to quickly die.

After all, these were fine steeds from the River Valley, skilled in rapid assault charging, but not cold-resistant, lacking the thick fur of Wandong or plateau war horses.

They had to walk forward, with the witches following closely behind.

During this process, the more they advanced, the colder they felt.

Since the anomaly appeared, the temperature plummeted from minus thirty degrees to below minus forty or fifty degrees, now rushing towards minus sixty.

Chill snow fell from the sky, like the tongue of a low-temperature death god silently licking their faces and limbs.

A mere thousand meters seemed like all warmth vanished; the world was only cold.

Cold, too cold!

The Silver Moon Knights felt icy lungs, exhaling dense white mist with each breath.

The delicate Silver Moon Armor became unfamiliar, as if roasted by low-temperature flames, threatening to burn their skin.

The Conquest Knight endured all weathers, but there are limits.

To advance efficiently, they wore light armor, with naturally thin clothing against the body. Upon arriving on the snowfield, they relied on their superhuman resilience to resist, and now their souls tasted the bitterness of it all.

The piercing cold wind brushed against their faces, the sensation was akin to being sliced by knives.

And when they reached the battlefield, they were instantly shocked by the scene before their eyes.

This was a racial war between the Frostmen and the abominations.

They had seen the former; the Frostmen's muscles were like rugged rocks, and their stature was tall, yet traces of humanity could still be discerned.

The creatures before them, however, had no connection to the Frostmen and belonged to another kind entirely.

They resembled humanoid figures, bodies pale and cold, skeletal like decayed wood, with deep blue eyes emitting terrifying cold light.

Like White Ghosts dipped in cold water, they wore thin ice armor and sharp ice blades, reflecting an eerie, chilling light.

They came in large groups, densely packed, stepping through the snow quietly, leaving only shallow traces on the ground, extremely swift.

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

The wind far colder than the snowfield descended.

Truly the non-human abominations from the Endless Ice Field, the ancient evil gods' slaves, enemies of all living creatures...

Everyone clearly realized that the term abominations used by the Frostmen was so accurate.

If switched to the Human Clan, they would inevitably call them monstrous ghosts.

The overall situation was not clear, but from one corner of the battlefield, it could be seen that the Frost Tribe was valiantly resisting, while the monstrous ghosts were launching relentless cold and deadly attacks.

The Frostmen possessed extreme cold resistance, the colder the environment, the more it stimulated their bloodline, enhancing their physical strength and recovery speed.

The Frostmen were naturally gifted; upon reaching adulthood, they had power equivalent to a First Rank Knight, and in extremely cold environments, could even exhibit Second Rank strength.

They understood primitive combat techniques, cooperating to resolve individual crises, true-born excellent warriors.

Yet, even so, the Frostmen could only barely hold on.

For the enemy had once driven them out of the Ice Plain, possessing power not inferior to theirs.

This war lacked structure, resembling more a beastly battle.

Everyone rushed in, engaging in the most brutal life-and-death struggle across the vast snowfield.

In total, there were roughly seven or eight hundred Frost Warriors, while the number of monstrous ghosts was unknown but surely exceeded the former—perhaps even multiple times over.

Moreover, often sacrificing one Frost Warrior was needed to kill two monstrous ghosts; the monstrous ghosts' ice armor seemed extremely thin, yet had a certain hardness.

Over time, the Frostmen would inevitably fail to withstand.

Blood, so much blood, dyed the snowfield red!

Every Frost Warrior that fell, a flock of monstrous ghosts would scramble for its corpse, devouring it completely, the scene horrifying and fitting the description of a pack of beasts.

"Vice Captain... what should we do?"

Upon hearing, Herman bit his teeth tightly, frowning deeply.

There was no need for them to rush into an alien battlefield, this group of abominations seemed too sinister, unnecessarily increasing risk, nor was it in line with Your Highness's interests.

The Silvermoon Knights were the elite of the elite, losing one would be a significant loss.

A Witch stepped forward and said, "I advise you to act now, don't delay too long."

They were wrapped in wide black robes, covering their entire bodies; Herman judged the speaker by voice as Gwen.

"Why should we!" he stared coldly at the Witch.

"Because they're here for Valia. If the latter doesn't wake up, our actions will fail." Gwen said solemnly, without any playful expression.

No one wanted Valia to wake up more than the Witch!

Herman's face showed uncertain emotions, while internally his intensity far exceeded his expression; his muscles beneath the armor trembled.

It's so cold here!

Really so cold!

So cold that it's unbearable!

Blood vessels were about to freeze, bones stiff from cold!

Hesitation, struggle, decision, Herman roared furiously: "Silvermoon Knights! Engage in full force!!"

"Kill!!" ×20

The remaining knights responded with war cries, dispelling abnormal states with high combat will.

In the snowy night, Herman led by example, moved to the forefront, twenty Silvermoon Knights formed a wedge formation, pierced into the alien battlefield like a sharp blade, attacking the monstrous ghosts' flank.

Herman raised his hand and swung his sword, swiftly slaying two monstrous ghosts.

Though the monstrous ghost individuals were comparable to Second Rank Knights, the process was no more troublesome than chopping vegetables.

Herman saw with his own eyes that when they died, they did not fall like corpses but swiftly transformed into wilted ice blocks, shattering into pieces on the snowfield.

The terrifying sight startled Herman.

But experienced on the battlefield, he didn't daze, suppressed the shock, and continued leading the team deeper, precisely slicing through the battlefield like scissors.

Some monstrous ghosts reacted, striking the Silvermoon Knights with ice blades, but all were blocked by metal armor, emitting a sharp, uncanny sound like nails on a chalkboard.

The leading monstrous ghost noticed the battlefield change and turned to look.

It quickly locked onto the orderly silver armor amidst the chaotic battlefield.

Giant's bloodline?

No!

The Human Clan!

It recognized them at first glance.

The Human Clan possessed such armed forces, extraordinary equipment forged from Mithril and other metals; they were called Conquest Knights.