Kesi had only just opened his mouth when Hoster interrupted him decisively.
"That's impossible."
His voice was not loud, but it carried a firmness that immediately silenced the room.
"It is impossible for me to abandon Crow Tree City. Impossible for me to give up Brackwood Vale. And it is even more impossible for me to leave these people behind and flee alone."
Hoster Brackwood stood up from his chair. Tall and thin, his limbs still carried the awkwardness of youth, as though his body had grown faster than his confidence. Yet his back was straight, his fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes burned with a stubborn resolve far beyond his years.
"I am their lord now," he continued, staring directly at Kesi. "That means I have both the obligation and the authority to protect them from disaster. If I abandon this land—the land belonging to the Brackwood family—I would be betraying my ancestors, my people, and my own honor."
His gaze sharpened, as though what Kesi had suggested earlier was not merely advice, but an insult carved directly into the Brackwood name.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Kesi blinked, clearly taken aback by the intensity of the young lord's reaction. He had expected resistance, perhaps anger—but not this level of stubborn resolve.
Then, without bothering to soften his tone, he snorted.
"Very well, Lord Hoster," Kesi said coldly. "But tell me—what exactly are you relying on to protect all of this?"
He gestured vaguely toward the window.
"Those ravens roosting on a half-dead weirwood tree?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Lord Karl rushing here the moment he received your message already borders on disobeying military orders. Do you understand that?"
"He—"
Before Kesi could continue, Karl raised his hand sharply and pressed it downward.
The gesture was calm, but authoritative.
Kesi immediately stopped speaking. He closed his mouth, leaned back in his chair, and returned to his usual impassive expression, as though nothing had happened.
The room fell silent once more.
Karl turned his gaze toward Hoster Brackwood, whose face had darkened, jaw clenched tightly.
"I'm sorry, Hoster," Karl said sincerely. "I apologize on Kesi's behalf. He doesn't fully understand the pressure you're under—or what the honor of House Brackwood means."
Hoster did not respond, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
Karl then turned to the others in the room.
"But Lord Hoster is not wrong," Karl continued. "As a lord, he cannot abandon his land and flee. Nor should he allow the commoners who are loyal to House Brackwood to be slaughtered without resistance."
"This is his responsibility."
His words were steady, deliberate, meant to calm rather than inflame.
Yet the problem remained.
"Then… what should we do?" Jon Snow asked quietly from the side.
His voice was low, almost hesitant, but in the silence it carried clearly.
As the bastard son of Eddard Stark, raised in Winterfell, Jon understood Hoster's persistence all too well. He had seen what duty meant to a lord—and what abandoning it could do to a man's soul.
At the same time, Jon was not blind to the suffering of the common folk. Unlike nobles, they could not afford honor. They could only bow their heads like grass before a storm and hope to survive.
But Jon's words, earnest as they were, changed nothing.
As his voice faded, everyone's eyes turned once again to Karl Stonestone—the only man in the room with the authority and strength to decide their fate.
The predicament before them was brutally simple.
They could not retreat.
They could not escape.
Honor and responsibility, once shields, had now become chains binding them in place.
Karl could, in theory, leave immediately. He had orders to fulfill. Saving Crow Tree City in the first place was already more than his duty required. As Kesi had said, it was benevolence.
And yet—
As the room slid back into deadlock, the Maester—who had earlier spoken and then fallen silent—slowly lifted his head.
For a moment, his eyes flickered with thought. Then suddenly, they brightened.
"Karl," the Maester said, his voice carrying urgency. "When do you think Duke Eddard Stark's army will arrive?"
Karl frowned slightly but did not interrupt.
"Perhaps," the Maester continued, "we can change our strategy. We could evacuate the commoners of Brackwood Vale into Crow Tree City. Once they are inside, your forces can take over the city's defenses and hold it."
He leaned forward, enthusiasm building.
"The Lannisters don't yet know what's happened here. If we send for aid immediately—to King Robert and to Duke Stark—we might create a time gap."
"At that point," he said excitedly, "we could strike from both inside and outside, surrounding the scattered Lannister forces and completely devouring them!"
The plan was bold. Almost brilliant.
Hoster Brackwood's eyes lit up instantly.
"Perhaps… perhaps that really could work!"
For the first time since the discussion began, hope flickered in his expression.
But Karl shook his head.
Slowly. Firmly.
"Maester, your idea is not bad," Karl said. "I won't deny that. But have you considered that it may be too ideal?"
He tapped the map laid out on the table.
"Yes, in theory, all we need to do is avoid direct confrontation for now. Once Duke Stark leads the Northern army south, these reckless Lannister forces will inevitably be crushed."
He paused deliberately.
"But let's be realistic."
"Do you truly believe the Lannisters are foolish enough to ignore their rear once it's taken? Do you think they'll sit idle while their supply lines are severed?"
His finger tapped the map again.
"Even if they did—setting all of that aside—the time it would take for the Northern army to march south and reach this area would be far from short."
"And if this passive plan fails," Karl continued calmly, "the price will not be paid in strategy or reputation."
"It will be paid in blood."
"The blood of the commoners. And possibly our own."
Silence followed.
"After all," Karl added, "we only have two hundred men capable of fighting. Crow Tree City is not a fortress like Riverrun. If it were, we wouldn't have been able to retake it last night with such a small force."
His words were harsh—but honest.
Hoster and the Maester both lowered their heads.
Yes.
Karl's vanguard numbered only two hundred.
Crow Tree City's own defenses had been gutted when Earl Titus Brackwood marched away with his troops.
That Karl had retaken the city at all was nothing short of a miracle.
And now, expecting him to solve the crisis of the entire territory with so few men—
It was impossible.
As the weight of reality pressed down on them, Hoster Brackwood finally cracked.
Still barely past his coming-of-age, the young lord buried his face in his hands. His shoulders trembled slightly.
"Young master…" the Maester murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Kesi glanced at Karl, reluctance flickering in his eyes.
"Then, my lord… what should we do?" he asked quietly.
"If we simply leave like this—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Karl understood perfectly.
"This is indeed a problem," Karl said.
He frowned, then stood up. His hand struck the table lightly as he rose. From the side, he picked up a small wooden marker and placed it on the map at their current position.
He stared at it for a long moment.
"No one expected Tywin Lannister to move this quickly," Karl said at last. "And from what we've seen, his goal isn't conquest."
"It's destruction."
"To slow Duke Stark's advance."
"If we leave now," Karl continued, "Crow Tree City will inevitably fall again. And what awaits its people will be an even more brutal slaughter."
He straightened.
Then, with a sharp motion, Karl drew the dragonbone-hilted dagger from his waist and slammed it into the map—right at the heart of Brackwood Vale.
The sound echoed through the room.
Hoster lifted his head, despair slowly giving way to something else.
Resolve.
"Since we've already pulled out the nail the Lannisters drove into this land," Karl said coldly, "there's no way we'll let them hammer it back in."
"Otherwise, every drop of blood spilled here will have been meaningless."
He looked around the room.
"I've decided."
"I will stay."
Before anyone could react, he continued.
"Before I left, I promised the King that I would be his vanguard—that I would clear the way ahead of him."
"Now," Karl said, a faint smile forming on his lips, "is the time to keep that promise."
The room fell silent.
But this time, it was not despair that lingered in the air.
It was determination.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)