Northern entrance of Horn Hill.
Inside the command tent, lamps burned brightly.
The atmosphere was as heavy as the stillness before a blizzard.
The tent flap was suddenly thrown open as two guards stumbled in, supporting Shanks, who was almost collapsing from exhaustion.
He was covered in blood and dust. His breathing was ragged, his face pale as death, and terror still lingered in his eyes.
"My lord… the Ironborn… ambush…"
Shanks's voice was hoarse and broken.
He could barely form sentences as he struggled to report what had happened and the devastating loss of nearly his entire scouting unit.
Every commander inside the tent felt their hearts sink. The air filled with the scent of blood and cold fury.
Galon quickly walked over to Shanks and said in a steady voice, "You did well. They will not have died in vain."
"Go and rest now."
His voice was calm and firm, carrying a reassuring strength that steadied those around him.
After Shanks was escorted out of the tent, Galon slowly turned around.
His gaze swept across every officer present like a blade of ice.
"You all heard him."
Galon's voice echoed in the silent tent.
"Euron is more cunning and more aggressive than we expected. He even tried to launch a night raid while we were unprepared."
He walked to the long table where the map lay spread out and struck the area of West Horn Hill with his finger.
"The key to this battle is not the Kingsroad. It is here."
The officers gathered around the table, staring at the map beneath Galon's finger with varying expressions.
Jon quickly understood the implication.
"My lord, you believe that while we engage the Ironborn main force, Euron will lead troops through West Horn Hill and strike our flank."
Galon nodded and looked around the room.
"Euron is cunning, treacherous, and brutally cruel. Now that the night raid has failed, he will not give up easily."
"When the battle begins, Victarion will certainly lead the main army in a direct assault to draw our attention."
"As for Euron…"
Galon's eyes gleamed with cold insight.
"He will strike from here. He will use the forest for cover, maneuver around our flank, and launch a deadly charge."
Images of Euron's character from past knowledge flashed through Galon's mind.
He was confident that Euron would not fight side by side with Victarion in a straightforward battle.
"Think of what happened to Torrhen's Square and Cerwyn."
"Even if those castles were rebuilt, it would take years. And that does nothing for the people who died."
"So this battle must be won."
"And West Horn Hill will be the decisive point."
Galon quietly observed the expressions of the officers, paying particular attention to Ramsay Snow.
When he saw Ramsay's face twitch slightly, Galon smiled inwardly.
He had taken the bait.
Now he only needed to make Ramsay willingly serve as the vanguard and expendable force.
Galon's lips curved faintly before he spoke again.
"We must leave a force to intercept Euron. It will be extremely dangerous. Who is willing to take the task?"
As soon as the words fell, members of House Umber and House Karstark immediately stood.
"My lord, we will do it."
Galon shook his head.
"Your houses specialize in spear infantry. I need you to remain on the main battlefield to resist Victarion's assault."
His gaze swept across the tent and finally stopped on Ramsay.
"Lord Ramsay?"
Ramsay's heart skipped. He sensed trouble immediately.
He raised his head and forced his usual unsettling smile onto his face. "Lord Galon, my men also include spearmen…"
Galon cut him off.
"Besides spearmen, House Bolton also has a large number of infantry. Placing them on our right flank would be ideal."
Ramsay remembered the devastation of Torrhen's Square and Cerwyn and had no desire to face the madman Euron.
He tried to refuse.
"My men may not withstand Crow's Eye's assault. Perhaps it would be better if I intercepted Victarion instead."
To his surprise, Galon immediately agreed.
"Very well. Then I will give you a chance to win great glory for House Bolton."
"When the battle begins tomorrow, you will lead Bolton's thousand men and face Victarion's first assault."
The tent fell silent.
Everyone understood that this was the most dangerous assignment.
Ramsay's smile vanished entirely, his face turning pale. "Lord Galon, you are sending my men to die."
"I...only have a thousand soldiers."
"Precisely because the task is difficult, the honor will be greater," Galon interrupted sharply. His voice rose with undeniable authority.
"Listen carefully, Ramsay Snow."
He deliberately emphasized the bastard surname.
"I know what you want. Not just survival, but recognition. The right to truly inherit the Bolton name. Am I wrong?"
Ramsay's pupils shrank as he stared at Galon.
Galon met his gaze and spoke quietly.
"Hold off Victarion's first attack."
"You do not need to defeat him. You only need to hold the line, blunt his momentum, and draw his main force into this position."
He pointed to a narrow section on the map.
"If you succeed, I, the commander of the Northern armies, promise in the name of House Stark that after this battle I will personally support the recognition of your legitimate status."
"You will become Ramsay Bolton, rightful heir to the Dreadfort."
Then Galon's tone turned icy cold.
"But if you refuse… or if you falter in battle and cause the entire line to collapse…"
"Then not only you, but all of House Bolton will be branded traitors to the North."
"I will remove your command in the name of House Stark."
"Now...tell me your answer."
Threat and temptation stood naked before Ramsay.
Every officer in the tent watched him.
The air seemed frozen.
Ramsay's face twisted as he struggled internally. At last, his hunger for power and legitimacy overcame his fear of death.
He took a deep breath and spoke through clenched teeth. "Fine. I'll do it. But you must keep your promise."
Galon nodded with a faint smile.
"Of course. I swear it in the name of the gods."
He turned back to the map and continued issuing orders.
"Jon, take five hundred cavalry, dismount them, and move secretly into the forests at the northern foot of West Horn Hill."
"If you discover Euron's forces, intercept them before they descend the mountain."
Jon stood and answered firmly.
"Yes, Lord Galon."
Galon then turned to his own trusted officers. "Mihawk, take five hundred archers and set an ambush here."
"When Victarion clashes with the Bolton forces, you will immediately join the battle and relieve their pressure."
Mihawk nodded in understanding.
"Ser Lambert Tallhart."
Galon turned to the knight who had been rescued earlier at Winterfell.
"I will give you two hundred cavalry. Ride around West Horn Hill tonight and reclaim Torrhen's Square."
"Gather the local bannermen and block the Ironborn from escaping toward the Stony Shore."
Lambert trembled with emotion. He knelt on one knee, tears in his eyes.
"My lord, House Tallhart will accomplish this task or die trying."
Galon quickly helped him up. "The vengeance of Torrhen's Square will be avenged. Be patient a little longer."
Lambert nodded heavily.
"Men of Barrowlands."
Finally Galon looked at the officers from House Dustin.
"The Salt Spear Shoals of the Fever River are the fastest crossing point for fleeing Ironborn."
"Send word to Lady Barbrey Dustin immediately. She must patrol the riverbanks day and night. Any Ironborn attempting to cross are to be killed without mercy."
The Dustin officers nodded in agreement.
"As for the rest of you, remain with me and face the main Ironborn army."
"In this battle, we will wipe out the Ironborn in the North."
"I will show Balon that the North belongs to us. Squids that crawl onto land have only one fate."
The tent erupted with fierce enthusiasm. The commanders could hardly wait to clash with the enemy.
One by one they departed to carry out their orders.
Soon only Galon remained inside the tent.
He stepped outside and looked toward the dark southern horizon. Snowflakes drifted through the wind, and distant noise carried faintly through the night.
The coming storm was close.
"Soon," Galon murmured. "Win this battle, and the next move will be the south."
He turned away and began inspecting the camp.
Tomorrow would decide his fate.
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