"In other words, in less than an hour, I lost over two thousand infantry, over a thousand cavalry, and nearly a thousand elites, while the enemy only lost a mere few hundred cavalry."
Duke Tywin's pale green eyes shimmered with golden light, and his brows furrowed slightly as he pondered his next move.
His expression was either stern or calm, but he never showed fear or worry; even if he was truly afraid, he would never show it in front of others.
"Duke, Stark has occupied Golden Tooth, and there are several thousand enemy troops blocking our path. With our current forces, it's impossible to take it quickly. How about we retreat?" Lord Lyness Lydden of Deep Den offered a suggestion.
He had been to Golden Tooth and knew that its walls were high, towers numerous, moats deep, and gates strong. House Lyfford had indeed put a lot of effort and wealth into ensuring the safety of their territory.
Now, all of that had become a sharp weapon for the enemy to block them.
"No, to our west are continuous mountains, with extremely dense forests at their foot, making it impossible for a large army to pass. To our east is the ceaselessly flowing Red Fork, and the wilderness, apart from scattered farmsteads, is completely exposed, making it impossible to evade enemy scouts. Retreating would be like running headfirst into those twenty thousand infantry."
As he spoke, Ser Kevan's face showed unconcealed shame.
Yesterday morning, if only he had sent someone more proactive to deliver the message to Golden Tooth, his brother would surely have discovered the anomaly earlier and taken countermeasures.
Things wouldn't have ended up in this situation.
It was all his fault!
"Duke, please give me another chance. I am willing to lead the soldiers of House Mallister as the vanguard to break through the infantry behind us, contributing to the army's breakthrough." Ser Adam gritted his teeth, speaking of a mission equivalent to suicide, but his gaze was so firm that no one could doubt him.
He had not been punished just now, so he felt it necessary to repay this leniency with his life.
Tywin ignored him. He suddenly looked up at the surrounding lords and knights and asked, "Has Ser Gregor returned?"
"He hasn't. Someone told me they saw Gregor killed by a young lad from House Karstark, his head chopped off, and his body taken away." In the crowd, Ser Tybolt Crakehall of Crakehall spoke up.
He was the heir to Crakehall, and his tone was not mournful when he spoke, even carrying a hint of a sneer.
Clegane Keep was not far from Crakehall. When "the Mountain" was alive, he had often ravaged the lands of their vassals. They couldn't defeat him in battle, and they couldn't win a complaint.
Now that he was dead, Ser Tybolt not laughing out loud was already giving the Duke a lot of face.
"What about the men who went plundering with him? Are they all dead too?" Tywin paid no attention to anyone's thoughts, his tone as cold as a winter wind.
Kevan lowered his head in thought for a few seconds, then replied, "One man returned alive."
Duke Tywin's expression suddenly relaxed, and he sharply commanded, "Have him come see me at once!"
Sweet-mouth Raff's face was numb, having personally witnessed the Mountain's head being chopped off with an axe. The cruelty and indifference to human life that had once been in his eyes were gone.
He crouched under a large tree, looking like a mangy dog with a broken leg.
Panicked and trembling.
Hearing that Duke Tywin had summoned him, Sweet-mouth Raff barely managed to emerge from his fear, following a red-cloaked guard to the unadorned command post.
"Duke!"
Seeing all the lords he usually couldn't even get a glimpse of gathered there, Sweet-mouth Raff knelt with a thud, burying his face deep in the dirt.
Tywin looked at the kneeling man and said expressionlessly, "Hmm, Raff the Sweet, right? Look at me!"
Sweet-mouth Raff then looked up and saw an extremely majestic face, with golden hair at the temples shining like a lion's mane.
His inner panic inexplicably calmed down.
Duke Tywin asked, "I remember you went with Ser Gregor to raid Pinkmaiden yesterday, is that right?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
Sweet-mouth Raff nodded repeatedly in response.
"Good, you will be our guide from now on. If you do well, you will also become a noble knight."
Hearing Duke Tywin's words, Sweet-mouth Raff opened his mouth in confusion.
...
"Did you kill this?"
Earl Titus Blackwood of Raventree Hall looked at the massive head in Eddard's hand, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Earlier, when he returned to his territory, he had clashed with Gregor twice with his cavalry, both times suffering a crushing defeat!
The opponent charged across the battlefield like a demon, and no one could stop that beast's charge.
He never expected him to die at Eddard's hands.
"Hmm, yes."
Eddard unceremoniously lifted the head in his hand, allowing everyone around to see it, then, under many awestruck gazes, he walked past Earl Titus, using his status as Hand of the King to approach Robb Stark.
No introduction was needed, and no one would stop him.
Behind him, whispers lingered.
A Riverlands soldier said, "I can't believe he actually killed the Mountain!"
A Northern cavalryman asked, "Is there anything strange about that? People from House Karstark are naturally tall and mighty, good fighters on the battlefield."
"Anything strange?"
The Riverlands soldier was initially surprised, then he thought that these Northerners, who stayed in that place of only rocks and barren land every day, seemed to be poorly informed.
He then slowly began to recount Gregor Clegane's glorious achievements.
And his bloody and brutal past.
His various atrocities made the surrounding soldiers who came to listen gasp repeatedly.
They also killed people, they also plundered, and occasionally they would do some cruel things, but killing a prince's orphan and raping and murdering Princess Elia Martell.
They couldn't even dream of such things.
As a result, such a demon actually died at the hands of Eddard Karstark, which was truly surprising.
"Eddard? Is something wrong?"
Seeing the Hand of the King approaching with a head, Robb was surprised. At this moment, he was with the maester of Golden Tooth, treating the wounded who had survived the battlefield.
"Hmm, I have something extremely important to tell you."
Looking at this very familiar scene before him, Eddard glanced around as he spoke, checking for any beautiful young female doctors from Essos.
To prevent her legs from wrapping around the King of the North's slender waist, killing himself and a large number of Northern elites.
Fortunately, all he saw were big men.
"Oh?"
Robb threw his blood-stained handkerchief into a bucket, stood up, and said, "Tell me, how much advantage can this head give us on the battlefield?"
His Hand of the King had rushed over without even having time to wipe the blood from his armor after the battle.
What he had to say must be very important.
Eddard lifted the Mountain's head and said, "Robb, this is Gregor Clegane's head. Has Lady spoken to you about this man?"
Robb looked up and recalled, "No, Mother hasn't told me, but Maester Luwin once told me a little, saying that this demon broke into the Red Keep during the battle, cruelly killed Aegon when he was still a baby, and also raped and murdered Princess Elia Martell."
At this point, the King of the North's face showed an expression of disgust, "Although my father stood on the same side as him at the time, this demon's actions were despised by Stark!"
He finished and added to Eddard, "Well killed!"
Is that all? Can't you think of anything else?
Eddard widened his eyes, then helplessly said, "Robb, to my knowledge, House Martell has always sought justice for Princess Elia's death, but they were cast aside by the old lion."
"And now, we can use this head to gain the friendship of House Martell."
"Ah?"
Robb was stunned, then enlightened, "That's right, perhaps we can use this justice to gain support, to have Dorne stand with the North and the Riverlands. I don't need them to submit to me, I just need friendship."
Eddard pouted helplessly. Either you can't think of it, or you want too much.
"Robb, relying solely on Gregor's death, House Martell probably won't help us much."
"What if I exchange Jaime for Sansa, and then use a marriage contract?"
Eddard looked at Robb, who had suddenly become much more unfamiliar, with an incredulous expression in his eyes.
How the hell did you improve so fast?
But he still shook his head and said, "Robb, this idea is certainly good, but exchanging a head for some hidden help is very simple. However, a marriage contract would make Dorne openly stand against the Iron Throne. That's too difficult. Prince Martell is currently neutral."
Of course, this was just Eddard's reason to persuade Robb.
As for the actual situation.
What Prince Martell truly wanted as a wife was Daenerys, that silver-haired loli. His plan was to have Targaryen return to the Iron Throne, then crush the Westerlands and destroy everything Tywin Lannister cherished.
The North did not have that power or appeal, and it did not catch Prince Martell's eye.
Sending Sansa over would just be a waste, like throwing a meat bun to a dog, and it would also waste the Kingslayer's value.
After listening to Eddard's persuasion, Robb thought for a long time, considering the current situation, and could only nod helplessly, "Alright, then I hope Gregor's head can bring back some strength that can help us."
Eddard also breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Yes, not much is needed, even if they just introduce a reliable mercenary company to us, that would be good. The North needs more strength now."
"Hmm, then I'll leave this matter to House Karstark. I believe you can handle this, Eddard."
"Good."
Eddard nodded.
"Your Majesty!!"
Suddenly, a shout came from the side; it was Ser Olivar from House Frey.
He had a face very similar to Marquess Frey, resembling a weasel, and was one of Robb's personal guards, responsible for observing enemy movements on the battlefield.
At this moment, Ser Olivar rode over from a distance, shouting loudly, "They've moved, the Lannister army has moved!"