New chapter! Thanks for all the support!
x
More than two hundred Lannister cavalry burst from the woods on the left side of the Goldroad.
In the middle of that group, a red priest was strapped to a saddle with several belts.
"Mm."
Moqorro, who had burned the wound on his left arm to stop the bleeding and fallen briefly unconscious from the pain, groaned and slowly opened his eyes.
"My lord, look out!"
The moment Moqorro woke, he heard a cry beside him. By instinct, he bent low over the horse's neck.
Something screamed through the air above his head. A Lannister rider beside him, horse and man together, crashed to the ground.
Moqorro focused his eyes and saw that the fallen rider and his horse had been pierced clean through by a beautiful ice spear that looked almost like a work of art.
He turned and looked back.
At the edge of the distant woods stood two ice direwolves, one huge and one smaller. The ice spear had been thrown by the demon servant on the smaller wolf's back.
"Throw the remaining wildfire jars onto that corpse!" Moqorro shouted.
The Lannister riders obeyed at once. They pulled the miniature wildfire jars from their sleeves, twisted back in the saddle, and hurled them hard toward the corpse where horse and rider had been pinned together.
Dozens of clay jars filled with wildfire struck the ground. Some shattered into fragments, spilling green liquid everywhere. Others remained intact.
Then a streak of orange-red flame flew from Moqorro's right hand toward the corpse behind them.
Boom. Boom.
The orange flame ignited the wildfire across the ground. Green fire swallowed the horse and rider in an instant, and several unbroken wildfire jars exploded one after another.
At the edge of the woods, Robb watched smoke, dust, and black vapor rise from the wildfire explosions. With his view of the enemy completely cut off, he dispersed the white mist gathering in his hand and urged Nymeria back into the trees.
When he returned to the ambush site, the forest fire started by Moqorro's flame arrows had already grown beyond a few scattered flames. It was devouring nearby trees and spreading outward.
Will and the other Wolfguard had already ended the uneven fight. They were withdrawing from the woods with several living captives.
Robb could extinguish the forest fire if he wished. But this was wartime, and he would not waste Bloodwind's Magic reserves on that.
When Robb led Will and the others out of the woods where the Westerlands soldiers had hidden, Gendry and the northern cavalry were shoveling dirt onto the burning wildfire trench.
At the same time, thousands of northern heavy cavalry rode down from the heights of the Goldroad, pouring out of Deep Den to join them.
Lord Rickard had seen Robb ambushed on the road and immediately gathered the three thousand heavy cavalry inside Deep Den to come to his aid.
Bloodwind, who had returned to normal size, breathed a rolling tornado of ice mist over the wildfire trench and froze it solid. Robb, the Wolfguard, and the others then rejoined Gendry's force.
"Gendry, take the wounded brothers and these prisoners back to Deep Den. Everyone else reforms on the Goldroad. Once we join the reinforcements, we continue the attack."
Robb had returned to Bloodwind's back. Seeing Gendry's visible wounds, he gave the order, then led the Wolfguard and more than four thousand northern light cavalry back to the road to form ranks.
Crush the Westerlands army below the mountain.
That was the battle plan Robb had drawn from the intelligence he had just obtained.
On the way back from the woods to the Goldroad, Robb had no time for gentle questioning. After Bloodwind swallowed several captives whole, the once-brave Lannister captives broke at once and told him what they knew.
The Westerlands camp below the mountain still held roughly thirty-four thousand men. But most of them were new soldiers Tywin Lannister had recruited from some unknown source.
Those recruits were numerous, but they seemed barely trained. They had no discipline, and their combat ability was poor.
The Lannister raiders who had carried out the ambush had been ordered to protect Lord Moqorro, a red priest Tywin had supposedly recruited in King's Landing.
They had avoided the northern scouts because they had marched through the night, circling from the left side of the Goldroad near Silverhill.
That path was also the route Moqorro and the others had taken in retreat.
With that information, Robb finally understood why Tywin had built defensive works as soon as he reached Deep Den.
Tywin's Westerlands host looked large, but beneath the numbers it was a rabble. He had no ability to take Deep Den. He only wanted to make it appear as if his main force had fully committed.
So his target was never Deep Den.
After careful thought, Robb judged that Tywin had very likely sent his true main force quietly toward Cornfield, planning to break through the southern Westerlands together with the Tyrell army.
Robb's plan now was to rout the Westerlands recruits in one blow, then reach Cornfield as quickly as possible.
When the four thousand northern light cavalry had reformed for the charge on the Goldroad, Lord Rickard's three thousand heavy cavalry arrived and joined them.
"I will lead the Wolfguard and light cavalry to destroy the enemy defenses first. Lord Rickard, you will lead the heavy cavalry in last and deliver the killing blow."
After Robb briefly explained the plan, the seven thousand northmen charged down toward the Westerlands camp at his order.
The routed Westerlands soldiers who had attacked Deep Den were only now reaching the gate of the camp, gasping for breath.
"Open the gate! We are your own men!"
Those who had thrown away helmets and armor squeezed toward the entrance and shouted to the guards on the gate tower.
"Enemy cavalry ahead!" the guards shouted back, pointing to the northern riders coming fiercely down the Goldroad. "Lord Tywin orders you to turn at once and face them!"
"Let us in! How could we possibly fight that?"
"Yes! Let us in! We only want to live!"
"They sent us to attack the castle before, and now they want us to stop enemy cavalry. They want us to die. Brothers, break the gate open, or we all die!"
The routed men had once lived in Flea Bottom. They understood perfectly well when others were sending them to their deaths.
In anger and fear, they began pushing the camp gate with all their strength, trying to force it open.
The hastily built gate was not especially sturdy. Under their combined effort, the thick wooden fence began to shake.
"Shoot! Kill these disobedient traitors!"
Feeling the gate tower itself tremble, the officer guarding the gate ordered the soldiers beside him to attack.
The Westerlands guards had been waiting for the order. They drew and fired into the routed men below. Those packed at the gate, completely unprepared, fell in great numbers.
The routed soldiers were stunned by the attack from their own side. Wanting only to survive, they turned at once and tried to flee back toward Deep Den.
But the moment they turned, they saw a torrent of steel pouring down the mountain like a burst flood. The northern cavalry was almost upon them.
Arrows flew from the front rank of the northern light cavalry. The men facing Deep Den were shot down in swaths.
Trapped between the North and the Westerlands, fewer than three thousand routed soldiers finally realized that no path to life remained. All they could do was wait in despair.
Many no longer had weapons in their hands, and many had already thrown off armor to run faster. They began roaring in hopelessness or breaking down into loud sobs.
Cruel, but real.
This was war.
"Keep shooting. Drive them toward the enemy gate."
Robb's expression remained cold. He was not moved by the crying of the routed men. He calmly commanded the northern cavalry.
When he had charged down the mountain and seen the fugitives shut outside the gate, he had already thought of a way to break into the camp without wasting too many explosive fruits or ice-crystal fruits.
Bloodwind received Robb's thought. Under his lead, more than a dozen huge ice direwolves released long, piercing howls.
"Ah! I do not want to be eaten by wolves. If you want to live, help me smash open the gate!"
One routed soldier, his face streaked with tears, seemed to wake fully at the sound of the wolves. He roared at the men around him and ran straight toward the gate.
Yes. Waiting here was death, and they might be eaten by wolves besides. Better to try breaking the gate once more and seize a small chance of survival.
After all, behind that gate were at least thirty thousand other humans. Death might not fall on them first.
His action spread through the rest of the fugitives. With that thought in mind, they threw all their strength into crashing against the gate.
"Damn it. Concentrate fire and kill these bastards! If the gate falls, the northern cavalry will charge straight in!"
The officer guarding the gate saw the situation clearly and ordered the defenders to slaughter their own men below.
Under the guards' full attack, bodies piled quickly at the gate.
"Will, give me an explosive fruit."
"As you command, Your Grace."
Robb took the fruit from Will, who had ridden close on his wolf. He scratched through the pattern on the surface with a fingernail, then hurled it hard toward the gate dozens of yards away.
Under Robb's monstrous strength, the explosive fruit shot toward the gate. As it neared the entrance, it began giving off a faint blue glow.
It fell into the pile of corpses and burst. Orange fire swallowed the bodies in the blast.
Boom, boom, boom.
As the orange flame rose, a chain of explosions rang out at the gate. Green fire leapt up with the help of all the material there ready to burn.
Robb's purpose was simple. He wanted the miniature wildfire jars carried by the routed men to detonate together and blast open the Westerlands gate.
The chain explosions tore the camp gate apart. Many guards on the tower were swallowed by wildfire and died miserably.
'Bloodwind, tornado ice mist.'
The moment the gate was blown open, Robb sent Bloodwind the command.
A huge tornado of ice mist poured from Bloodwind's jaws, freezing the burning green wreckage, the bloody bodies, and the broken wood ahead. It laid a road of ice and blood for the northern cavalry.
Robb had expected his cavalry might one day need to move across ice he created, so all northern horses had been fitted with anti-slip horseshoes.
Those shoes gripped the frozen road, and the cavalry charged into the chaotic Westerlands camp.
Most soldiers in the camp scattered the moment they saw the gate destroyed and the northern riders enter with savage momentum.
A small number tried to form defensive lines. But when the three thousand northern heavy cavalry entered the camp, a single charge tore those lines apart.
An absurd battle began: seven thousand men chasing and slaughtering thirty thousand.
Robb and the Wolfguard did not join the pursuit. His purpose was clear. The moment he entered the camp, he rode straight for the command tent in the center.
After cutting down a few Westerlands soldiers foolish enough to block the way, Robb and the Wolfguard quickly surrounded the red command tent.
Robb gave Will a look. Will immediately dismounted and entered to inspect it.
A minute later, Will emerged with a frown.
"Your Grace, the tent is empty. Nothing valuable was left behind. I do not think they only just departed."
"So they abandoned this camp long ago. Where did Tywin Lannister go?"
Bloodwind had already told Robb the result through the pact. After Will confirmed it, Robb touched the stubble on his chin and murmured to himself.
Several miles away from the battle, dozens of Lannister riders caught up to several men dressed like commoners and killed them without hesitation.
After searching their belongings, one rider lifted a birdcage wrapped in black cloth.
"Found it. The raven is still in the cage. The latest message was not sent."
"Good. They were the last scouts. Return and report to Lord Tywin."
After finding their target, the Lannister riders left quickly toward Silverhill.
Near the Goldroad in the direction of Silverhill, Tywin waited quietly with more than a thousand Lannister cavalry.
After hearing the report from his household riders, he nodded in satisfaction and dismissed them.
He did not have to wait long. The two hundred Lannister riders protecting Moqorro soon rejoined him.
"Moqorro, your hand..."
Tywin looked at the charred stump of Moqorro's left arm, surprise showing on his face.
"Robb Stark truly is a demon servant of the god of cold. His power is strong. I will need more followers of the Lord of Light to purify him.
"But this is not the time. We should leave."
Moqorro's face was pale. He waved his right hand as he spoke.
"Very well. We leave now."
Tywin answered him, then looked back toward the Westerlands camp and murmured, "Robb Stark, this time you will not guess my true plan."
x
x
x
If you're enjoying the story so far, consider supporting me on Patreon ❤️
You'll get weekly early access to chapters, along with some exclusive content:
https://www.patreon.com/cw/TheDevotedReader