Looking at the figure hovering below the giant avatar, the White Emperor instantly attacked, “Intruder! You dare show yourself!”

A murderous glint flashed across his eyes as he made a gripping gesture at his target. The moisture in the air around the one in mid-air gathered and froze with alarming speed.

Sihala, the person who made the Winged Storm Bear avatar, found himself encased in a barrel made of pure ice. His triple S cultivation rank was useless to help him retreat, even though he had already prepared to do so right after attacking.

A shadow suddenly appeared out of nowhere, covering his head. Struggling to lift his chin up in this tight space, his eyes widened as he saw a long sharpened ice pillar right on top of him.

There wasn’t time to scream as the White Emperor released the pillar to fall right onto his head.

Everyone was prepared to see a bloody scene and a few soldiers closed their eyes. Despite being experienced warriors, it is still too gruesome for them to see a person impaled this way. Just the resulting gurgling sounds are enough to turn their stomachs for days.

The personal guards of the White Emperor however, looked as though they are penning for the world greatest entertainment. They had all fought beside Reynold for centuries. If they are not likeminded it wouldn’t be possible to last thus long.

However, what they are hoping for did not happen.

The next moment, the pillar slide through the barrel without slowing down and it fell through the other end and smashed into the ground, killing several more of their own.

Instantly horrific cries raised into the sky. Everyone were wide-eyed in disbelief. They couldn’t find a single drop of blood from the enemy, instead more of their own are dead.

The White Emperor is furious from getting played with, but he couldn’t understand what happened either. Substitute technique, Clone technique, Illusion technique, he dismissed these possibilities quickly. There was no way he will be fooled by these paltry tricks at his level and not be aware.

An invisible wisp of wind fled from the White Emperor and slowly solidified into a young man’s figure in a hidden location.

Wearing the standard attire of a soldier, Sihala had a large grin on his face. He is so loved by the wind, he can turn into it for a short period of time. Wind Touched.

It is an innate ability rarely heard of and almost never seen, as expected of someone who is called ‘The Chosen One’.

Kairos had borrowed Sihala from Esley exactly because he can turn into pure wind element and become nigh invincible. They know how dangerous it will be for the first person who acted, and thus the only person who can claim to fully retreat under the White Emperor’s eyelid isn’t Tommy with his Dharma Constitution, Kairos with Heaven Titan Physique, or Alan with his Bagua defensive arts.

Sihala’s appearance in Esley’s camp was a coincidence, but the three genius war strategists in the Snowdrifts will never miss such a chance.

As his Winged Storm Bear avatar grabbed everyone’s attention, few noticed that there are hundreds of freshly dead lying in their own pools of blood around the camp.

These people are all high-ranking officers holding important positions that upheld the stronghold’s daily operation. With them killed, the link between the top command and the lower ranked operatives will be severed, and at least for half a day their army with over a million soldiers are crippled.

More frighteningly, till now, their deaths are still largely unknown, while the ones that did the job have already moved on to their next target. These assassins are the best that the Dark Swords clan could offer. The two hundred of them are all within the top thousand assassins found on Gaia. Their mission is to take down as many officers as possible, and so far it had been a breeze.

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To grant them cover, the rest of the group are working hard as well.

Sihala’s attack is not only a distraction, but also a signal. The Angelheart family Rune Masters, Blue Frost Blacksmiths, Light Rose Healers, and Northern Cross Inscriptionists immediately attacked those around themselves.

They are at the most guarded areas with many layers of security protocol to ensure no one could sabotage their workshops especially during wartime.

However, the four hundred of them not only have perfect disguises, they had actual skills to back up their trade. The Ku Kang camp’s artificers and medics already accepted them as colleagues, not knowing that the actual person whom that had been working with for years is already dead and replaced.

Granted, with enough time, a misplaced word or a suspicious action that will give their identity away is bound to happen.

But such a thing will never occur under the coordination of their tacticians, Snow, Leaf, Small, and Smaller.

While the Strategists determine the actions, the Tacticians judges if that pre-determined flow of battle is possible and ensure it happens exactly as planned.

Every single thing that is happening right now is tightly controlled.

As expected, the Ku Kang’s rune masters, blacksmiths, inscriptionists and healers died in the doves without understanding why their ‘colleagues’ suddenly strike them.

At the other places, similar chaos are happening.

The hundred elders and two thousand two hundred soldiers of the Snowdrifts that had been patrolling the camp also acted quickly.

For the majority of the day, they had been stealthily weakening the northern gate.

When the Winged Storm Bear avatar appeared, it was the sign for them to finally drop all pretences. They drew their blades, and attacked the guards by the portcullis.

There are over ten thousand enemies in each guardhouses by the gate, for a total of twenty thousand guards. Normally, outnumbered nearly ten to one, it is certain death for the Snowdrifts’ side.

Fortunately, delivering thousands of tempered weapons wasn’t too tall a task for the Astroire’s family guards that had been playing the role of porters for the entire day. After all, they were villagers and strongmen before they were welcomed into the young Earl’s house.

The moment the Snowdrifts’ soldiers attacked, thousands rushed out from the nearby guardhouses to defend the gate, but the initial clash was an overwhelming defeat.

Their swords wobbled with entire blades that fell off the grip, crossbow and bows disintegrated in theirs hands and rebounded the arrows back to the archer, spear tips were blunted with gel coating, and arrowheads were hammered flat.

It was a disastrous fight.

“Bring the spare weapons from the armoury!”

Guard leaders from all around are roaring commands as frantic underlings tried to meet their orders. However…

“Report! Sir, all the closest armouries had been sabotaged! It will take an hour for the southern armouries to replenish our supply!”

Those trying to hold down the fort had faces so black they could drip ink. However, they remained unafraid because, after all, they outnumber their foes by so much that mere tricks could not turn the tides.

Yet, the first responders never receive the reinforcements they were expecting.

“Captain, where are the others!?”

“Why aren’t they coming? Sir, we can’t hold on much longer!”

“It’s over… they are going to seize control of our gates.”

Soon, desperate cries raised up into the air at the north gate.

The only reply these soldiers receive are the trembling groans of acute tummy ache victims.

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With the lavatories bursting and soldiers cluttered around not daring to take a step, the gate was seized in less than an hour. Just in time for the troops led by Esley, the East Wind, to arrive at the north, and the barbarians following the Hall Master and Silver Ghost disguised as Kairos and Tommy to arrive from the south bridge.

When Kairos led the three hundred Snowdrifts founding members out of the Dark Hall against the undefeated Ku Kang Stronghold, everyone looked at them with pitying eyes or mirth in their guts.

When Kairos called for help from his allies and merely scrimmaged ten thousand soldiers, their foes were provoked into laughter.

When only four thousand could accompany Kairos after the rest were cruelly tricked and killed out of mere amusement, the world thought that the Snowdrifts had already been sentenced to death.

Four thousand against a million in a siege… outnumbered by two hundred and fifty times, what a ridiculous and pathetic form of suicide.

How can these few men be enough?

However, there are no one laughing now.

The White Emperor’s estimation that there were a hundred intruders hiding in their ranks was terrifying enough. He hadn’t realise just how grossly mistaken he is.

Four thousand intruders… the word ‘enough’ has already become a joke.