The cold wind howls across the Northern Wilderness, and Louis Calvin tightens his wolfskin cloak, standing alone atop an ice cliff.
As the son of a Duke, he was thrown into this perpetually frozen wilderness under the guise of 'pioneering glory.'
When he thought he was at a dead end, the Daily Intelligence System activated:
[Thirty-seven ice-bound hungry wolves are lurking in the southeastern valley, planning a raid on the territory tonight.]
[At dawn, an Ancient God's corpse will emerge from the Ice Lake, with its heart retaining the godliness of winter.]
[The Church of Gold Finch will deem you a blasphemer, and the Holy Flame Knight Order has set out on a northern expedition.]
[A tide of the undead will sweep across the continent, with humanity's numbers dwindling to less than a million.]
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