In the world of lords, strength, luck, and overall planning were all indispensable.
Only those with deeper foundations could withstand the fluctuations of risk.
Otherwise, any unexpected incident could trigger violent upheaval.
At the same time, in the area designated Defense Zone 5218.
This was one of the regions where the whispers of the Eternal Night were especially intense.
It lay close to the edge of the Corrupted Tundra that Icarus had ravaged.
The air here was filled with faint, maddening hissing sounds.
As though countless resentful souls were whispering in one's ears.
Constantly testing the mental defenses of every living creature.
Lord Elena was someone who adhered to the lone-wolf principle.
Aside from the marketplace, she rarely communicated with other lords.
She remained vigilant at all times, as if suffering from paranoia.
She followed the so-called "elite" path. She had fewer than eight hundred warriors under her command, but every one of them was a carefully selected Ranger, mage, or scout of Fourth Order or above.
Her strategy was to avoid direct confrontation.
Instead, she used the complex terrain of the frozen lake before the Great Wall.
Massive ice floes, deep ice crevasses, frozen shipwrecks, and the like to wage guerrilla warfare and carry out decapitation strikes.
She intended to target isolated high-value targets.
Such as frost liches commanding low-level monsters, or lone frost knights.
Over the past few days, relying on her exceptional personal strength and her team's seamless coordination, she had briefly surged into the top hundred of the regional rankings.
It could be said that her gains had been substantial.
But at dusk on the seventh day...
Of course, in the Eternal Night, only the timer could distinguish the different periods of time.
Elena sharply detected a powerful yet chaotic energy source speeding past the edge