Riding on his horse and looking at the "towering mountains" before him, Kal could not help narrowing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
Then, with a face full of emotion, he said, "The scent is getting more and more 'fragrant,' isn't it—"
"What scent? The scent of horse dung?"
Tyrion Lannister, whose mouth had almost dried into stone after so many days without wine, heard Kal's words and could not help "muttering" two lines to the side.
Kal did not bother with him; drunkards suffering withdrawal were always like this.
So he kept his eyes narrowed, carefully savoring this kind of indescribably comfortable and pleasant feeling.
Because the "fragrant" scent he spoke of had nothing to do with horse dung or gold.
What he meant was actually the magical particles in the air that came with the gradually arriving abundant rainwater.
Even someone like him—who only knew a few spells but understood none of the foundational magical knowledge, a magic "apprentice"—could vaguely sense that this strange element was gradually growing denser.
It was like the tide, a feeling of gradually spreading.
Opening his eyes, Kal's eyes shone, and the smile at the corner of his mouth could not be suppressed no matter what.
Counting the time, the Red Comet was probably about to rise.
According to the timeline, the story of the first volume of A Song of Ice and Fire, A Game of Thrones, mainly took place in the year 298 AC.
But the final chapter of A Game of Thrones, all the chapters of the second volume A Clash of Kings that followed, and most of the chapters of the third volume A Storm of Swords all took place in 299 AC.
And this also meant that, counting up to the rising of the Red Comet, on this timeline where the magical tide once again descended upon the world of A Song of Ice and Fire, all the stories that happened here all took place within this less than one year of 298 AC.
But now, with his own transmigration, not only had the plot been thrown into complete chaos, the story was also completely no longer the story it once had been.
Counting from this time when Robert rode north, the war raised between the Baratheon family of the Iron Throne and the Stark family of the North and the Lannister family of the Westerlands, from its beginning to its hasty end, had taken almost half a year.
Afterwards, adding in the time occupied by the holding of this King's Landing Victory Martial Games presided over by himself, just counting it like this.
Barring any accident, it was also about time.
"The time is almost here~," Kal said as he gently pinched his fingers together, looking up at the sky and murmuring to himself.
Tyrion stood to the side frowning, looking at Kal El, who had seemed somewhat mysterious and ghostly ever since leaving King's Landing, then turned his head and exchanged a glance with Jon White Wolf.
The two of them both shook their heads at the same time.
Then the two of them heard Kal issue an order.
"So then let us make camp ahead; this place looks like a good spot."
A fine drizzle fell unceasingly. Although it brought a rare coolness to the march, after ten straight days of such weather, the ground had inevitably turned muddy.
Including the heavy wagons, the eight thousand men of the army placed a faint but real strain upon the Goldroad, and this situation made Kal's forces, already not fast to begin with, suffer even further.
The army quickly set up camp on a stretch of open ground beside the Goldroad; a small lake lay nearby, making it a decent place to rest.
Jon had not yet formally taken on his own squire, so his mount was handed over to the grooms for unified management.
After a full day of marching, once he dismounted, he felt as though his crotch no longer belonged to him.
"Lord Tyrion, when will we reach a suitable town where we can rest?"
Walking somewhat awkwardly to Tyrion's side, gazing at the scenery before him—the first time he had ever seen such a place in all his life—
Jon asked the dwarfling who was frowning and pounding his already oft-aching short legs.
"A larger city ahead is only Deep Den, but do not think about it; the distance to it is at least the same as from King's Landing to where we are now."
"But the good news is, once we reach Deep Den, the distance to Casterly Rock will be only one third of the road we have already walked."
Tyrion knew how to speak; with just a few sentences he had given Jon a math problem, leaving Jon White Wolf staring blankly.
Secretly using his body to shield his hand as he counted on his fingers, Jon roughly calculated how much farther they would have to go.
"So that means we still have to walk at least twenty days before we reach Casterly Rock?"
"Barring accidents, that is roughly the case," Tyrion said, nodding with a pained expression.
Jon could not help glancing once more at Tyrion's somewhat misshapen legs, and in the end voiced the comforting words he had held back for several days.
"Then why don't you ride in a carriage instead?"
At these words, Tyrion's hand paused, and he turned his head with a blank expression.
"You should have suggested that back in King's Landing, because at that time I still had the chance to buy myself a more comfortable carriage."
"And even if I wanted to ride in a carriage now, I would only be able to squeeze in with those boxes and that wheat. Of course, I cannot guarantee whether there might also be some stinking dried salted fish in there—the kind that cannot even be sold in the markets of King's Landing."
Tyrion's mouth was still sharp as a blade; even his complaints were stated with such perfect logic.
Jon then shook out his boots with a strange expression and continued asking, "Then why didn't you buy one when you were in King's Landing?"
"Because ever since you clearly refused to become the Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing, I thought I would end up staying there in your place."
"Before that, your master shouted in my ear every day for me to become Commander of the Goldcloaks. Have you ever heard of a dwarf being the commander of an entire army?"
Tyrion was now simply complaining out of boredom. He spread his hands, displaying his innocence to the fullest.
Jon froze slightly upon hearing this. It sounded reasonable, but something still felt off.
And speaking ill of someone behind their back usually meant the person in question would hear it—just like now.
Kal El happened to walk over. "If you are not worried about being shot dead by an arrow one day while you are shitting on a privy, I can mercifully let you go back."
The dwarfling curled his lip in disdain. "Who would be stupid enough to pick a fight with a dwarf and go smell whether his shit stinks?" He turned to Kal with a contemptuous look.
Kal frowned and stroked the stubble growing on his chin. "Maybe those who cannot stand the sight of Lannisters. After all, not everyone is so kind. Some people may simply 'like' small men, you know?"
"I thought the name of Lord Kal El and the name of Lord Eddard Stark would be enough to protect me."
"Kal El's can, but Lord Eddard Stark's—sorry, as far as I know, he protects nothing, not even at the cost of his own life."
"You should say that to his face."
"After I marry Sansa, I'll consider it—"
Unable to win the argument, Tyrion immediately raised a middle finger, his face full of contempt.
After exchanging his habitual round of verbal sparring with Tyrion, Kal felt his mood improve.
Then he clapped his hands and let the smile fade from his face.
"I will be leaving for a while later. We will meet again tomorrow morning. Do not tell anyone about this, and do not ask me where I am going."
Seeing that his expression was serious and not like a joke, Tyrion Lannister and Jon White Wolf, who had finally sat down after a dull day to exchange a few jokes, both froze at the same time.
And the moment the two of them subconsciously wanted to open their mouths to ask something, his sentence telling them not to ask where he was going blocked the words back down their throats.
But this inevitably made the two of them suspect whether he was going to do something important.
Seeing that they truly did not ask, Kal nodded in satisfaction, then emphasized once more, "If anything unexpected happens during this period, Tyrion will act as the main officer in command, and Jon will be responsible for the deployment of the army."
"Kossi, Hall, Shagga, and the others have all been spoken to beforehand. Do not worry about them disobeying."
After giving his instructions, Kal said no more and turned around to leave.
He left behind the two who were still sitting where they were, completely baffled, staring blankly at his departing back.
Only when his figure disappeared into the forest did the two of them exchange another strange look.
"What do you think he is going to do?" Tyrion finally could not hold back.
Jon knew just as much as he did—nothing.
But that did not stop him from making his own guess. "Is it possible he is going to look for a woman?"
"In this stretch of mountains with no villages before or inns behind, at most he could find a female lizard."
On the other side, using the trees as cover, after making sure no one could see him, Kal finally entered a small cave he had long been watching from afar.
The moment the darkness hid his silhouette, his entire person disappeared from this world.
Silently and without a trace.
Yet the instant he arrived in his game world—which he had been too busy to enter for two or three months—Kal now stood there staring blankly at the scene before him.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"An offline game can also undergo a version update?"
"In my previous life, how did I never hear that this game could update its version?"
The moment he entered the game world, Kal could not hold back.
After confirming that he had indeed felt nothing wrong, he suddenly seemed to think of something and slapped his thigh hard.
"Damn it, I need to hurry and check whether my wife has hatched me a dragon egg!"
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