For several days in a row, Galon led his army along the road toward the Stony Shore.
After passing Seagard and Torrhen's Square, the weather suddenly worsened.
The already overcast sky was swallowed by drifting snow, and the air grew damp and biting cold.
The northern wind cut like knives through the marching column, whipping up snow that stung the soldiers' reddened faces.
The silver fist banner of Deepwood Motte struggled against the gale.
Seven hundred Glover soldiers marched in tight formation, silent as a moving forest of steel.
Meanwhile, the five hundred Skagosi warriors under Sparta were like a loose storm of snow—scattered, noisy, and undisciplined.
They stretched the line, laughing and chatting as if they were out on a hunt rather than a campaign.
From time to time, friction sparked between them and the orderly ranks beside them.
Mounted at the front, Galon swept his gaze across the army like a hawk.
He knew that the tension between the two groups was, at its core, a clash between order and savagery.
Riding beside him, Asha was very familiar with this kind of situation.
Most of the crews she had commanded were no different from the Skagosi.
In fact, aside from the Glovers, she had never seen an army maintain such rigid discipline.
"Galon... you managed to train the Glovers into this level of order," she said with a faint smile. "Do you really think you can do the same with the Skagosi?"
There was a trace of amusement in her voice, as if she were already looking forward to seeing him struggle.
Though they were now allies, that did not stop her from enjoying the thought of him being troubled.
Galon, however, had long expected this.
From the moment he decided to incorporate the Skagosi into his forces, he had known integration would be difficult.
'This was always going to happen,' he thought calmly.
'I forced them into submission with strength. But if I want true obedience, I need to grind down their wildness step by step.'
'I need an opportunity... to establish authority beyond strength.'
He slowed his horse, watching the long, winding column in the snow.
'Not yet. The time isn't right.'
After a moment of thought, he urged his horse forward and continued leading the army.
But what he did not expect was that the opportunity would come much sooner than he imagined.
By the time half a day had passed, night was approaching.
Galon chose a patch of woodland that offered some shelter from the wind and ordered the army to make camp.
Once the camp was set, he had Ron organize food for the soldiers.
Meanwhile, some Skagosi slipped out of camp without permission and headed into the nearby forest to hunt.
When the campfires began boiling barley porridge, a group of Skagosi returned with a large deer.
They cheerfully carved off bloody chunks of meat and roasted them over open flames.
Some, too hungry to wait, ate the meat half-raw, tearing into it with gusto.
Nearby, a Glover soldier saw this and scoffed.
"Savages. Eating raw meat like animals."
The surrounding Glover soldiers burst into laughter, their eyes filled with contempt.
Their laughter rang sharply through the otherwise quiet camp.
A scar-faced Skagosi warrior, who had been gnawing on a deer leg, suddenly looked up.
His scar twisted with anger.
"You tin can, what are you laughing at?!"
He threw the bone aside and strode forward like an enraged bear.
"Apologize!"
"Or I'll knock your teeth out one by one!"
More Skagosi gathered behind him, their expressions hostile.
At the same time, Glover soldiers also closed ranks, hands gripping their weapons.
The tension rose instantly.
A sharp-eyed Glover officer sensed the danger and rushed to report the situation to Galon and Sparta.
The two exchanged a glance and immediately stepped out of the command tent.
"What's going on here?!"
Their arrival made both sides restrain themselves slightly, but the hostility remained.
"Hmph. Lord Galon, why do your men insult us?" the scar-faced Skagosi demanded, recounting what had happened.
"We hunt our own food. What right do they have to mock us?"
Sparta frowned, clearly thinking his people had done nothing wrong.
Galon ignored him for the moment and turned to the Glover soldier.
"Is what he said true?"
The soldier hesitated, then nodded.
Galon then looked at the Skagosi warrior and spoke calmly.
"He insulted you. That is his fault."
"According to military law, provoking discord among comrades is punishable by whipping."
"Shanks, he's from your clan. You will carry it out."
"Three lashes."
Shanks stepped forward with a cold expression.
"Move aside!"
He glared at his fellow clansman.
"You've disgraced us. If this happens again, I'll double the punishment myself!"
Taking the whip from Ron, he struck three times.
The soldier grunted but did not cry out.
When it was over, he was helped away.
The Skagosi smirked in satisfaction, and even Sparta seemed to think the judgment fair.
But before he could speak, Galon's tone shifted.
He turned his sharp gaze on the scar-faced Skagosi.
"He insulted you. That was his fault. But you left camp without permission and provoked a fight."
"By my rules, that earns twenty lashes and three days without meat."
"What?!" the man roared. "We Skagosi have always—"
Galon stepped forward.
His presence surged like a tide, crushing the protest.
"In this army, there are no Skagosi and no Northmen. There are only my soldiers. There is only one voice here. Mine."
"I do not favor or punish based on origin."
"Follow me, and I will give you victory and glory. Break the rules, and you will be punished the same."
He raised his hand.
"Carry out the sentence."
Veteran Glover soldiers stepped forward without hesitation and restrained the struggling man.
Sparta opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Galon stopped him cold.
There was something in Galon's eyes—cold, absolute, and deadly serious.
By the time Sparta recovered, the punishment was already finished.
The Skagosi were stunned.
They had not expected Galon to punish his own men fairly—nor to punish them just as harshly.
Galon swept his gaze across them.
"You followed me because I defeated your leader. But now, you will follow my rules.
These rules will keep you alive. They will win you battles. They will save your home."
"Anyone who challenges them will face the same fate."
Then he turned to the Glovers.
"Watch your mouths. They are your comrades now. Next time, the punishment will be doubled."
With that, he returned to his tent as if nothing had happened.
Sparta stood in silence before finally walking away.
From that moment on, both sides were shaken. The hostility faded, replaced by cautious obedience.
At the edge of the camp, Asha watched everything.
Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from excitement.
'Order built on violence alone will collapse before greater violence. Only fair punishment earns true loyalty.'
She had seen countless Ironborn captains rule through brutality.
It created fear, but never stability.
Galon was different.
With a single, precise act of justice, he had stamped his authority into everyone's minds.
It was more refined than brute force.
More dangerous.
And far more compelling.
'He's even more capable than I thought... I need him.'
That night, Asha went straight to Galon's tent.
Inside, he was studying a map by lamplight.
"You handled things well today," she said, her tone carrying genuine admiration.
"I've never seen anyone truly tame beasts like that."
Galon glanced up.
"They're not beasts. They're warriors. They just need to learn how to become better ones."
Asha stepped closer, her gaze intense. "Is that what you want? To turn all of them into your army?"
"And then what? Keep expanding for House Stark?"
Galon leaned back slightly, studying her with a faint smile.
His silence made her heart tighten.
In that moment, everything she had felt since her capture surged forward.
Her voice grew firm.
"Glover."
"Your stage shouldn't be just the North... Come to the sea with me. That's where you can truly soar."
"What Stark can give you, I can give you as well."
Galon looked at her quietly, his eyes unreadable in the firelight. It felt as though he was judging her worth.
Asha straightened, holding his gaze, waiting.
After a long moment, he simply said, "It's late. You should rest. We march again tomorrow."
Asha's heart sank.
She knew she had failed.
__________
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