A cold wind swept over the high slope, rustling the grass and trees of the plain, bringing with it the scent of earth and vegetation.
Arthur stood on a high slope of this land, looking at the vast, sprawling plain before him.
A shimmering, silvery river meandered, nourishing the fertile fields on both banks. To his right, the faint outline of white mountains marked the natural barrier separating the Riverlands from the Vale.
This was Weikang Gorge, bordered by the Green Fork River to the left and the Bright Moon Mountains to the right. Three streams flowed down from High Mountain, crossing this land and emptying into the Green Fork River.
There was also a long-established Kings Road, so no road construction was needed.
"Perfect, simply perfect," Arthur murmured. This land ignited an instinct deep within his soul; the soul of a five-thousand-year-old ancient kingdom could hardly resist such a vast plain.
He was already fantasizing about building irrigation systems and expanding cultivated land on this territory.
"My Lord?" Hakon interrupted his reverie, seeing Arthur's wide eyes.
Arthur snapped back to reality, his head beginning to ache. Lady Roslin had kept her word; she had given him fertile land, but the minor troubles on this land were quite significant.
The ownership of this land was disputed by multiple families, each occupying a portion, and the old Frey family was also involved. There were even land disputes between the Vale and the Riverlands.
This was also the biggest drawback of the Riverlands. Unlike the other six kingdoms, before the Conquest, the Riverlands had seen hundreds of kings over several centuries. It could be said that everyone had a chance to be a petty king, and major families could proudly claim to have royal blood. This also meant that the Tully Family's power and suzerain rights were not very strong.
Arthur looked behind him, where his people were unloading their belongings and setting up camp—over four hundred soldiers.
The temptation of private land was undoubtedly immense. Many were skeptical, but still, over a hundred male refugees who had returned from Dreadfort chose to believe and join this land reclamation effort.
Moreover, there were the soldiers' families—the old, weak, women, and children—totaling over a thousand people. This was his reclamation group, his future liegemen.
Children chased and played in the grass, while women gathered, their faces beaming with joy as they chattered, looking at the fertile plains.
The men, Arthur's soldiers, looked at the fertile fields before them. They were now singing loudly with their rough voices, singing songs of the Riverlands people praising Lord Arthur, full of power:
"Bright Moon Mountains, peaks of frost, shadows shroud, the earth trembles."
"Over a thousand wildlings, roaring down, the Riverlands, hanging by a thread."
"Cold wind bites, sorrow of frost and snow, the black cub, takes command in crisis."
"Three hundred farmers, blades in hand, deep in the river valley, cold wind howls."
"Black Lion's oath, live and die together! Face death, today!"
"Never retreat, never surrender! Hold the line, until the end!"
"Black Lion roars! Born anew from despair! Live and die together, forever!"
"Farmers bathed in blood, iron will! Every inch contended, fight to the death!"
"They counterattack, blood flows, a desperate stand! In the Riverlands Gorge!"
"Let them come, let them fall! A desperate stand! In the Riverlands Gorge!"
"Let them come, let them fall! Arthur! Black Lion!"
"Forever renowned!"
"The Black Lion of the Riverlands!"
"Long live! Long live! Long live!"
Joyful smiles appeared on everyone's faces. Arthur came to his senses, biting the tip of his tongue; he had to stay clear-headed. They didn't understand the complexities here; they only saw fertile land that could be cultivated, a chance to start their new lives.
"What a wonderful place, Lord Arthur," Lucien stood beside him, his dark face full of joy. "A million times better than Dreadfort."
"Indeed, a good place," Arthur's gaze returned to the fields. "But good places are never lacking in those who desire them."
Arthur turned to Hakon: "Have the envoys been sent out?"
The land beneath his feet, both nominally and factually, belonged to him, but it was currently controlled by the Knight Terry family. This family was the only nail the Dustin family had left in this land.
The Knight Terry family was loyal to the Dustin family, and due to the complexity of this land, they were implicitly allowed by the liege lord to occupy a large area of land that did not match their family's status. A knight family could at most control the land of a village, but now they occupied land the size of a small lord's domain.
He was now their liege lord and suzerain; they should have come to swear fealty and hand over the illegally controlled land the moment he arrived. But they had remained silent, pretending Arthur didn't exist, so he had no choice but to come in person.
Hakon nodded: "Lord Arthur, I have already sent an envoy to convey your command, asking him to come and swear fealty and return the land."
"You have to pick the soft persimmons first," Arthur sighed with emotion. Many forces here were currently inscrutable, so he could only start with this knight family, over whom he had legal claim.
Just as he spoke, a rapidly approaching black speck appeared on the distant horizon, quickly growing larger.
A rider galloped up the high slope, reining in his horse before Arthur. The warhorse seemed to sense the rider's emotions, restlessly pawing its hooves and snorting loudly.
The rider dismounted, stumbled a few steps, and knelt on one knee, his face streaked with sweat and dust, flushed, and filled with an uncontrollable rage.
"Lord Arthur!" His voice was hoarse from hurried breathing.
"Walker Terry refused to swear fealty to you!" The rider looked up, his eyes practically spitting fire. "He looked at your document, threw it on the ground, and even stomped on it!"
"And he said, he said, he said..."
Lucien stepped forward, grabbed the rider's shoulder, and roared, "Said what!!!"
The rider, pained by the grip, stammered, "He said! Your master is just a dung-wiper! He killed some wildlings and thinks he's really a lion? He can live in peace with you!"
"But! His land is the land his family has cultivated for generations! You want his land! Fine! Besides the mud under his feet, you won't get anything else!"
After speaking, the rider tremblingly pulled out a pouch containing the mud that Knight Terry had picked up from under his feet and told him to bring to Arthur.
"You fool!!!" Lucien's eyes were bloodshot as he punched the rider down. "Why did you bring this back!!!!"
The soldiers who heard this around them were enraged by such an insult, drawing their weapons and roaring in unison. The news spread from one to two, from two to a hundred, and everyone learned of the incident.
People looked at Arthur. However, Arthur stood quietly, his expression calm. He had expected this, after all, it involved handing over land.
Arthur finally made a move. He walked towards the fallen rider, helped him up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and used his own sleeve to wipe away the nosebleed caused by Lucien's punch.
The rider's eyes were red, and he lowered his head, tears of guilt and pain flowing.
Arthur raised the rider's right hand, which was clutching the dirt, with his left hand, holding both arms high.
Arthur looked at his liegemen and declared loudly:
"My soldier!!! Has presented land to me!!!!"
The crowd cheered, "Long live!"
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