"Lost contact?" Hector raised an eyebrow. "Not one came back?"
"Yes. The blizzard is too heavy. Any magical messengers we send out never return. And..." The captain swallowed. "A few Taxi Soldiers who went out to gather firewood claimed they heard strange sounds in the wind. Like wolves howling, or some sort of beast panting."
Hector's expression grew grave.
"Blind," he murmured. "Is this the Royalist Faction's trick? Using a natural disaster to turn me blind and deaf."
Just then, a series of muffled booms penetrated the blizzard and armor, reaching the study.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
It was the roar of Alchemy Cannons, coming from Brintanhe Fortress due west.
A messenger stumbled in immediately afterward. "Report! My lord! Cannon fire from the fortress! Prince Wilander's army seems to be assembling. They... they seem to be launching a counterattack!"
"A counterattack?"
Hector froze for a moment, then let out a low laugh.
He rose and strode over to the enormous tactical map hanging on the wall.
"A counterattack in this temperature?" Hector pointed at Brintanh on the map, his eyes full of contempt. "Has that old bastard Wilander had his brains frozen solid? Or is the fortress running out of fuel too?"
His mind raced, piecing together every scrap of information.
First, they created a blizzard. Then, they blinded his scouts. The movements to the west, south, and north connected in his mind.
"As the ones who created this blizzard, they must have stockpiled more than enough fuel in advance," Hector declared. "They planned this all along. They mean to use the blinding snow to surround us and slaughter us here!"
He turned to the scout captain and messenger, his eyes alert now that he had seen through the deadly trap.
**"Pass down my orders! Pull in our defensive lines! Prepare