Crows flew in from afar, bringing the news people longed for.
The Riverlands—the region between Riverrun and Oakenshield.
Robb led the Wolf Cavalry forward at a steady pace. He did not head straight for Harrenhal.
According to intelligence from the Blackfish, Robb decided to first move south and hunt down Tywin's forces that were ravaging the Riverlands.
Tywin Lannister was an old fox, treacherous and cunning. He kept his main force holed up in Harrenhal, while sending his bannermen to slaughter and plunder throughout the Riverlands.
He was doing this to lure Robb into marching on Harrenhal and fighting a decisive battle there, relying on Harrenhal's unique geographical advantages to crush Robb.
"A crafty fox," Robb thought. "But no matter how crafty, a fox is still no match for a hunter. In the end, it can only hide in its den and tremble."
As he was thinking this, Smalljon rode up at full speed, a letter clutched in his hand.
Smalljon's face was full of excitement."Your Majesty, Lord Lakewood's raven has returned. There's news from King's Landing."
Robb tore open the letter, first checking whether Count Lakewood had used their agreed-upon code.
To ensure the accuracy of the intelligence, Robb and Lakewood had arranged a secret cipher. By checking whether the third letter of each message was deliberately misspelled and corrected, they could confirm whether Count Lakewood was acting under duress.
Seeing the correct signal in the letter, Robb finally relaxed a little.
In the letter, Count Lakewood reported that although House Lannister was dissatisfied with Robb's conditions, in the end they had agreed to all of them.
Everyone knew this was only a temporary delay.
Once King's Landing stabilized, they would certainly refuse to continue recognizing the North's current independence. War would inevitably break out again.
But for now, everyone was searching for balance amid the chaos, and House Lannister had no choice but to compromise.
"Sansa will be escorted to White Harbor together with Father's ashes by Count Lakewood. White Harbor is a city of the North's bannermen. From there, the northern lords will escort her back to Winterfell."
"Arya is missing. King's Landing cannot produce her—this doesn't surprise me. After the deal is completed, we can use this excuse to loot the lords of the Westerlands."
"Father's greatsword, Ice, will soon be sent back to Riverrun. It is the ancestral sword of House Stark, carrying immense symbolic meaning. More importantly, Ice is forged from Valyrian steel."
As the most luxurious steel on the continent of Westeros, Valyrian steel was a magical material, said to deal fatal wounds to the White Walkers beyond the Wall.
But to Robb, whether Valyrian steel could harm White Walkers was not that important.
The undead, that was all. He had nine ways to make them fall into eternal sleep—nine ways!
What Robb cared about most was whether this magical material could amplify his own spells.
His Kaliya magic and swordsmanship had rarely been used, largely because he lacked a suitable spell catalyst. The cost of casting was far greater than that of prayers.
"Seems Count Lakewood did a fine job. When he returns, I can consider reserving a ministerial position for him."
After finishing the letter, a flame suddenly appeared in Robb's hand. He burned it to ashes, leaving only a few cinders that drifted away on the wind.
Letting Jaime go so easily had surprised many people—but Robb had prepared a contingency.
He had planted a seed of Scarlet Rot within Jaime. In truth, there was no antidote at all, because that trace of Scarlet Rot was not lethal.
As time passed, the rot would gradually shrink.
But it would never disappear.
Scarlet Rot would forever leave a trace of corruption on Jaime's body, allowing Robb to sense his movements through occult means.
Although Jaime had returned to King's Landing, Robb still held him firmly in his grasp.
In fact, this had been Jaime's own request.
"If I go back, my father and Cersei may not honor their promise. They might continue to imprison your two sisters. So put some safeguards on me—I don't want to break my word because of an accident."
At the time, Robb had smiled, praising Jaime as a genuine knight.
But Jaime had overthought it. Robb had already planted Scarlet Rot in him. This was completely unnecessary.
With matters in King's Landing settled, Robb finally put one burden to rest, and his mood improved noticeably.
—
"Your Majesty, five miles ahead is Oakenshield. It's said that Lord Tywin's men have been roaming nearby, looting villages. But it seems there's another force fighting them."
Smalljon rode up beside Robb, holding a letter from Ser Brynden Blackfish as he reported the situation.
Robb nodded."Send more men out. Check the surrounding area."
At that moment, another centurion, Dacey Mormont, rode over. As a rare female noble heir, she was tall and imposing—six feet in height, even slightly taller than the still-growing Robb.
Her expression was filled with fury."Your Majesty, the village ahead has been looted. The state it's in…"
By the time Robb arrived with his men, the entire village had already been reduced to ruins, burned into scorched earth.
Naked corpses lay abandoned in the open, left unburied. Scavenging wild dogs and crows fled at the sight of people approaching.
The women had all been brutally dismembered. From their condition, it was clear they had suffered inhuman abuse before being slaughtered.
This was the cruelty of the battlefield.
The Wolf Cavalry who witnessed the scene all wore expressions of madness.
Lannister!
Damn them!
Robb's face was expressionless, but no one knew that his heart was already overflowing with rage.
"Looks like our opponent, Tywin, enjoys spreading terror. If that's the case, I think he'll enjoy the taste of it himself."
"As king, I swear here and now: I swear to capture Tywin alive, and return everything this village suffered—tenfold, no, a hundredfold—upon that old bastard."
"I only hope he won't die too early during the torture."
Robb ordered the bodies to be gathered together and piled in one place.
Then he extended his palm. A vivid crimson flame appeared within it. With a gentle upward push, the flame left his hand, expanding in midair until it formed a massive fireball.
As the fireball engulfed the corpses, Robb led the Wolf Cavalry onward.
More than half of the Riverlands was still in the hands of Tywin and his lackeys. The enemy clearly wanted to force him into a decisive battle through such methods.
Robb knew that the greatest taboo in warfare was performing on a stage chosen by the enemy. So he would not give Tywin that decisive battle.
If Tywin liked fighting a war of raids and skirmishes, then Robb would play along.
Let's see how long this old dog can keep playing with me.
As he was thinking this, Centurion Eddard Karstark brought fresh intelligence.
"Your Majesty, two forces are fighting ahead. Judging by the banners, one of them belongs to a noble house under the Lannisters!"
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
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(End Chapter)