The dawn air carried the scent of blood and smoke.
Throughout the Kingswood, the wildling camps were engulfed in chaos, slaughter, and desperate cries.
Flaming arrows streaked through the morning mist, leaving fiery trails in the air before crashing into tents. Within moments, blazing flames spread across the encampment like hungry serpents.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
Golden war banners rose high above the battlefield.
Household cavalry and elite Stormlands warriors burst into the wildling camps just before sunrise, catching most of their enemies still asleep.
Shouts echoed through the forest.
Steel clashed against steel.
The screams of the dying blended into a terrible symphony of war.
Squadrons of knights charged repeatedly through the camps, breaking apart any attempt at organized resistance. Their formations remained disciplined and flexible, guided by experienced commanders.
More importantly, they possessed the advantage of surprise.
Against these loosely organized mountain clans, the attack was devastating.
Half-awake and confused, the wildlings struggled to regroup. Their camps quickly became fields of blood and fire.
Sentries and horn blowers were shot down before they could raise an alarm.
Those who resisted were cut down.
Many died in their sleep without ever understanding what had happened.
---
In the Stone Crow camp, Lothor and Anguy led the assault.
"That giant brute already cost me two arrows," Anguy complained as he drew another shaft from his quiver.
His arrows were fletched with gray goose feathers and tipped with armor-piercing heads.
"I don't intend to waste any more. Hurry up, Lothor. We still need to join the others. This isn't a tourney."
Lothor nodded.
His gaze settled upon his opponent.
Standing before him was Shagga of the Stone Crows.
The massive wildling hefted a double-bladed greataxe and glared at Lothor.
He had thrown on his armor in a hurry. His crude helmet offered little protection for his face or neck.
For wildlings, heavy armor was more burden than benefit. They valued mobility above all else.
Shagga bared his yellow teeth.
"I've seen you before."
"We have met," Lothor replied calmly, raising his longsword.
A moment later, realization flashed across Shagga's face.
"I remember now!"
"You used to serve that smiling half-man!"
"Tyrion Lannister."
"He's dead," Lothor said coldly.
"I serve only the Storm."
Shagga laughed.
"You lowlanders are all the same. Once I kill you, I'll return to King's Landing and celebrate with a feast."
Without another word, he charged.
Steel collided.
The duel began.
Shagga's greataxe whistled through the air with frightening force.
Despite his size, he moved surprisingly fast. Yet the arrows embedded in both arms had weakened him. Pain slowed his movements and dulled his reactions.
Lothor, meanwhile, displayed the skill that had carried him through countless battles.
Though born as a distant and unrecognized relative of House Brune, he had forged himself through hardship and warfare.
"Surrender," Lothor said.
"Or die."
Shagga spat.
"Shagga, son of Dolf, never surrenders!"
"I'll cut off your head and feed your corpse to the crows!"
"Then you'll die here."
"Cowardly lowlander!"
"You talk too much."
Lothor spurred his horse forward.
His golden cloak snapped behind him as his sword flashed.
Shagga roared and swung his axe.
Lothor carefully stayed beyond the weapon's deadly reach.
Even wounded, Shagga remained dangerous.
The mountain clans feared neither pain nor death.
Then Shagga overcommitted.
An opening appeared.
Lothor struck instantly.
His blade sliced across Shagga's face, carving away flesh.
"Aaaaagh!"
Blood streamed down the wildling's cheek.
"You dare wound Shagga, son of Dolf?!"
Lothor answered with steel.
His longsword danced like a storm, weaving flashes of silver light.
Shagga fought back desperately.
The greataxe smashed apart Lothor's shield, shattering it into splinters.
But in that same moment, Lothor's sword thrust forward.
The blade pierced straight through Shagga's throat.
The giant froze.
Blood bubbled from his mouth.
"Long... live... the Half-Man..."
Those were his final words.
Then he collapsed.
His enormous body crashed onto the ground with a thunderous impact.
Lothor looked down at the corpse.
"Still as filthy as ever."
"It seems you never learned how to bathe."
He turned toward his men.
"Cut off his head."
A soldier obeyed immediately.
Using a heavy axe, he severed Shagga's head and wrapped it in a piece of tent cloth.
Nearby, the fires continued to rage.
The sounds of resistance were rapidly fading.
Lothor watched a wounded wildling crawl from a burning tent.
The man dragged himself toward the river, leaving a thin trail of blood behind him.
Death had claimed the Stone Crow camp.
The clan had been completely destroyed.
"Let's move."
Anguy rode up beside him.
"It sounds like Prince Gendry and Ser Morrigen have already finished their battles as well."
---
Meanwhile, in the Burned Men camp, the surviving warriors had been rounded up into a circle.
At Gendry's signal, the Stormlands soldiers lowered their bows.
A young man rode forward.
He had delicate features, an aquiline nose, and only one eye.
The other had been gouged out.
This was Timett, known among his people as Red Hand.
He wore black armor supplied by Tyrion and carried a longsword at his side.
The Burned Men were infamous for their tradition of self-mutilation.
Their coming-of-age rituals required boys to sacrifice part of their bodies—a finger, an ear, a nipple, or even an eye.
"Red Hand!"
"Red Hand!"
The surviving Burned Men shouted his title.
Though mutilated, they were among the fiercest warriors of the mountain clans.
They feared nothing.
Least of all death.
And Timett was feared even among them.
As a boy, he had gouged out his own eye with a red-hot dagger.
"Are you their leader?" Timett asked.
"I am."
Gendry stood calmly before him.
"A worthy opponent."
Timett looked around.
His warriors had been routed.
The young prince standing before him seemed completely relaxed, like a hunter watching trapped prey.
"If I kill you," Timett said, "that armor will belong to me."
He drew his sword and attacked.
Gendry answered with his warhammer.
The spiked weapon roared through the air.
Again.
And again.
Each strike carried overwhelming force.
Steel clashed repeatedly.
The moment their weapons met, Timett felt as though a mountain had crashed into him.
"What terrifying strength!"
A sense of dread filled his heart.
He tried to retreat and counterattack.
Too late.
The hammer descended once more.
The impact sent sparks flying.
Pain exploded through his arms.
His muscles trembled uncontrollably.
Finally, his sword slipped from his grasp.
It fell into the dirt.
Timett stared at the weapon lying before him.
Across from him, Gendry hadn't even broken a sweat.
The prince walked forward calmly.
As though he had not yet revealed his true strength.
"Storm!"
"Storm!"
"Storm!"
The Stormlands soldiers erupted into thunderous cheers.
Their voices shook the forest.
Timett lowered his gaze.
"I lost."
His arm throbbed painfully.
His shield lay shattered at his feet.
Around him, the Burned Men stood frozen in disbelief.
Their strongest warrior had been defeated so easily.
"Do you still wish to fight?" Gendry asked.
Timett shook his head.
"No."
His aching limbs and shattered weapon told him everything.
This had not been a close battle.
It had been complete domination.
"If that hammer had struck my head..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
Both men knew the answer.
Timett looked directly at Gendry.
"I'll honor the wager."
"I won't let anyone say the Burned Men have no honor."
Then he glanced toward the sky.
At that moment, the Red Priestess suddenly pointed upward.
"The fire will return one day!"
"The red comet still burns above us!"
"The true savior walks among men!"
The surviving wildlings trembled.
Many looked upward in fear.
Timett followed their gaze.
Then he turned back toward Gendry.
"Lightbringer..."
"The promised savior..."
"Are you the one chosen by the Lord of Fire?"
The Red Priestess smiled.
"No."
She pointed directly at Gendry.
"Before you stands the true Storm."
"The savior who will guide humanity through the darkness."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)