When Count Banfort led his men in a charge, the cavalry on the hillside did the same as before, retreating in perfect coordination toward the far side of the slope.
Jaime couldn't see what was happening over there. All he could hear were soldiers' curses and screams.
This battle lasted noticeably longer than the previous ones. After an unknown amount of time, cavalry finally appeared on the hillside again, entering Jaime's field of vision.
They were Count Banfort's men.
The scout who had previously ridden back to report the news secretly let out a breath of relief. Heh, we finally won. That was really like seeing a ghost just now.
But very quickly, the Lannister side realized something was wrong.
More and more of Count Banfort's cavalry appeared on the hillside—but they didn't look like victors returning in triumph. Instead, they looked… routed?
The numbers were wrong as well. It was no longer a hundred men—only a little over seventy came back.
When Count Banfort himself finally came galloping back in full retreat, Jaime the Kingslayer realized that his earlier suspicion had been correct.
Count Banfort's helmet sat crooked on his head, his weapon nowhere to be seen. His face was filled with terror as he wailed and fled toward the Lannister lines.
"Pay attention—don't let them crash into our formation."
After giving the order, Jaime reached out and grabbed the fleeing Count Banfort. Before the man could calm down, Jaime took a waterskin from an attendant and poured it straight over Banfort's head.
"Calm down! Why did you run back? Don't tell me there was an ambush in the woods behind the hill?"
The cold water shocked Count Banfort back into a bit of clarity. Still trembling with fear, he stammered, "No… no ambush… just… just those dozen or so people… they're too strong. We couldn't withstand even three rounds of their charge…"
"They didn't say a single word!"
"They didn't say a single word!"
He repeated that last sentence twice. The scene he had just witnessed had shaken him to his core.
A dozen fully armored cavalrymen, carrying long lances, charging silently toward you with deathlike stillness—he never wanted to experience that again in his lifetime.
Jaime flew into a rage. "Just those dozen people?! They scattered you in only three charges?!"
Count Banfort muttered weakly, "They're not afraid of death…"
Jaime sneered inwardly at this so-called Count. When it came to抢功, he was always the first to rush forward. But when it came time for a real bloodbath, he turned tail and ran—utterly lacking any knightly spirit.
Under the pale moonlight, those dozen or so cavalrymen returned once more to their original position, standing in silence as they confronted Jaime's three thousand riders.
The earlier battle had clearly cost them some men—how many were dead or wounded was unknown.
But no matter what, for a mere dozen cavalrymen to smash a force of over a hundred head-on was enough to prove that the enemy before them were elites among elites.
Jaime narrowed his eyes at them, the fury in his heart already boiling over. "Damn it. This is an insult. A blatant insult."
He put on his helmet, protecting his vital points and leaving only his eyes exposed as he stared forward. "The entire army advances. Capture them alive if possible. I want them alive!"
He was determined to mobilize the whole force and seize every one of those elite cavalrymen, to find out exactly where they came from.
The formation of three thousand cavalry slowly adjusted their positions. Once everything was ready, rows upon rows of riders spurred their horses forward in unison, instantly forming a thunderous tide!
Any inexperienced commander would be caught completely off guard by such a move. By the time they realized what was happening, the cavalry would already be within striking distance.
Little Jon held aloft the Tully family banner. Seeing Jaime suddenly advance with his full army, even he was caught a bit unprepared.
Good thing I don't have to face an opponent like this alone, he thought. Behind me stands Robb, the Young Wolf.
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The Young Wolf was the name the northern lords used privately for Robb, a title born of respect and admiration.
But Little Jon had always wanted to change it—to create a title that belonged solely to the wolf cavalry's way of addressing Robb. Otherwise, how could they distinguish themselves from ordinary soldiers?
There was no time to think further. Seeing that his role as bait had already achieved its purpose, Little Jon wheeled his horse around and charged toward the designated location.
Watching the enemy head toward the Whispering Wood, Jaime calculated silently, suspecting that there might be an ambush hidden in the forest.
But the enemy only had a dozen or so men. Seeing so many cavalry advancing, retreating into the woods was normal. Surely they wouldn't be insane enough to charge him head-on with so few people, right?
When Little Jon noticed Jaime slowing down, he immediately slowed his own pace as well—almost as if he were teasing him.
Jaime's patience was gradually worn away. Anger seized control of his mind, and he charged straight toward Little Jon's unit.
This game of pursuit lasted ten minutes. At last, both sides arrived at a sunken stretch of terrain.
Little Jon suddenly accelerated, charging toward a nearby low hill and linking up with the main force.
Robb had already heard the thunderous sound of hooves. Once the scouts confirmed Little Jon's position, he immediately turned around and led the wolf cavalry to stand atop the hill, welcoming Little Jon's return.
"Halt!"
So there was an ambush!
Startled by the sudden appearance of cavalry, Jaime immediately pulled on the reins, slowing his horse.
But when he clearly saw the enemy's composition under the moonlight, his heart settled somewhat.
Three hundred men… Robb, that little brat… heh.
He scanned the surroundings. The area was unnervingly quiet, making it unlikely that there were any additional reinforcements.
"Kingslayer. Long time no see. It's been a while since we last met."
Robb looked down from above at a cavalry formation ten times the size of his own. There was not the slightest hint of panic on his face, which made Jaime feel puzzled. Did this boy truly understand nothing about warfare?
Seeing that the other side didn't respond, Robb continued, "You and that biaozi Cersei committed incest, and when my brother Bran Stark discovered your disgusting affair, you threw him from a high tower, crippling him for life."
"I also heard that in King's Landing, you stabbed my father's knee with a spear, forcing him to walk with a cane."
"And I heard even more—that your son and your lover kidnapped my father, leaving a noble Hand of the King to suffer in a dungeon."
"The Lannisters… what a ridiculous family."
Robb's words echoed across the battlefield. The wolf cavalry listened with righteous fury, the swelling anger in their chests igniting their blood.
On the Lannister side, the soldiers were uneasy and uncertain. They didn't know whether the accusations of incest were true, only marveling inwardly at how daring their commander was. As for what happened to Ned, they couldn't care less.
Jaime felt hot blood rush to his head, his sanity on the verge of snapping. He roared, "Shut up! You damned bastard! Once I kill you, this battle will be over! What do you think three hundred men can do?!"
"Enough. After all, this is a battlefield."
Seeing that his goal had been achieved, Robb couldn't be bothered to waste more words. He silently raised his right hand, as if holding up something invisible.
More than three thousand people stared at Robb's strange movement, all utterly confused.
Suddenly, Robb clenched his right hand!
Crackle—snap—zzzzzz!!!
In the next instant, a long spear formed entirely of golden lightning appeared in his grasp!
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
"Game of Thrones: Political Life"
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"Game of Thrones: Ruler of the Deep Seas "
" Game of Thrones: From the Elden Lord to the Young Wolf"
"Game of Thrones The Glory of a Knight"
(End Chapter)