Brin looked around, lowering his voice to a whisper only they could hear.
"Lord Arthur… you want to take actual control of these mountains?"
Arthur didn't answer. He just turned his head and, in the moonlight, gave Brin a smile. He had guessed correctly.
If he could control the treacherous and towering Brightmoon Mountains, which were unfavorable for large armies, then even if future wars went poorly, Lions Den and High Mountain would be his only reliance. In the future, the population could build military forts in strategic locations within High Mountain, achieving actual control. Any large-scale army in such a region would be bogged down.
But to Brin, that smile, though wordless, contained ambition, trust, and an invitation. It meant Arthur already considered him one of his own.
That smile was worth a thousand words.
The light in Brin's eyes instantly ignited. His years of experience hiding from noble pursuit in the mountains and dealing with wildlings now became invaluable.
His voice was filled with powerful confidence, stemming from his absolute familiarity with the land, and a proud smile: "Then my lord has certainly found the right person."
"The Brightmoon Mountains are vast and boundless. The deeper you go, the more shrouded in mist they become. Outsiders who enter will get lost in no time, and eventually either starve to death,
be captured by wildlings, or become dinner for beasts."
"But we ten brothers, to survive, have basically traversed every inch of these Brightmoon Mountains. Our marks and traces are everywhere."
Brin stretched out his hand, pointing to the dark, massive mountain shrouded in mist in the distance, reaching high into the sky.
"We know where the cleanest water sources are, where we can plant crops for food, which caves are most hidden and can accommodate hundreds of people, and which seemingly dead-end paths can bypass the most dangerous cliffs."
He paused, lowering his voice even further.
"I even know a few secret paths that armies can take to move silently into the Valley."
Arthur's eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat, but he quickly recovered. After all, even the Young Wolf Robb Stark could find a path for his army to bypass Golden Tooth in the developed Westerlands, let alone the Brightmoon Mountains, which are full of wildlings and not truly controlled by the Valley.
Brin continued to analyze for Arthur, who was pleasantly surprised. This blacksmith's thinking was very clear. He was indeed worthy of being someone who could survive with ten people in High Mountain amidst wildlings.
"More importantly, it's the timing. The High Mountain Clan was heavily damaged by you, my lord, and all the tribes have migrated to the Valley side. There's a large power vacuum in the mountains on the Riverlands side."
"These mountains nominally belong to the lords of the Valley, but for thousands of years, no one has truly controlled them."
"Any army attempting to establish a foothold would be harassed to collapse by the endless wildlings of the High Mountain Clan."
"Now is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Brin's eyes gleamed with excitement. In his view, he was deeply bound to Arthur. The stronger Arthur's power, the greater his hope for revenge.
Moreover, his enemies were also lords of the Valley. Causing trouble for the Valley nobles was also a form of revenge, wasn't it?
"As long as we take advantage of the vacuum, control those key passages and strategic mountain passes, and occupy all the treacherous areas suitable for building fortifications, we can firmly hold the mountainous region on the Riverlands side."
"Even if the wildlings recover and try to counterattack in the future, they can only sigh at the sight of the fortifications and certainly won't be able to last."
Brin looked at Arthur and said solemnly, "I can guide you, my lord!"
"Good!" Arthur could no longer hide his joy. He clapped Brin's shoulder hard, his solid muscles like rock. "Good! Brin! You've given me an enormous gift!"
Talent is always the primary resource for development; this saying truly doesn't deceive me. Now I still lack a maester. I need to work hard to find a way.
I just don't know where Qyburn is now. If worst comes to worst, I'll secretly report him and then bring him to my side.
Arthur raised his wine cup and poured half a cup into Brin's pottery mug.
"To conquer Bright Moon High Mountain!!!" Arthur raised his cup.
"To revenge!" Brin raised his cup.
The two exchanged glances, smiled together, and drank it all. The spicy wine burned in their chests, igniting a flame hotter than the bonfire.
When they returned to the bonfire, the atmosphere was even more lively and unrestrained. Voices buzzed, and it was warm and boisterous, with no awkward silences at all.
Some of the surrendered bandits' wives even drank too much and danced strange, unwatchable dances in the center, but for these rough men, it was a rare sight.
Brin's eight brothers were gathered around, loudly boasting about their experiences in the mountains to Arthur's assembled soldiers, drawing bursts of laughter.
"I'm telling you! Last time I snuck into a wildling tribe! I stole a whole roasted goat!"
"That's nothing! I disguised myself as a lost wildling! Was invited by a female wildling! And slept for a night in a female wildling's tent! Hehehe…."
"You drank too much that time! You almost died on the Ice Cliff! Hugging a rock for warmth! Remember that?"
A young companion of Brin's named Wear chugged a large mouthful of ale, his face flushed red from drinking.
He let out a loud burp and shouted, "I'll tell you something even more amazing… In the mountains… in the mountains, there are dragons! I saw one with my own eyes!"
Arthur sharply caught the keyword and looked up at the drunken young man.
No sooner had he spoken than a burst of good-natured laughter erupted around him. Not only his brothers and companions, but even Arthur's soldiers burst into laughter.
More and more people heard the laughter and gathered around. They had just heard someone say they saw a dragon, something even a child wouldn't claim to exist outside of stories.
Although everyone was bragging, no one would brag about something so outrageous. They wanted to have a good laugh at the person who did.
Arthur shook his head, gave a faint smile, and took a sip of wine. He could understand.
This generation of Westeros people had never seen dragons, nor did they have the time, money, or status to go to King's Landing to see dragon bones. Naturally, they believed dragons were only creatures of legend and stories.
Furthermore, the Targaryen family had lost in the Usurper's War, and their divinity had long since faded.
"Hahaha, Wear is at it again!"
"That time you drank three bags of wild fruit wine and were so drunk you mistook a dead tree for a wild boar and gnawed on it for half a day!"
Another one of his companions laughed and chimed in, "Yeah, the dragon you saw, was it covered in bark and completely motionless?"
Everyone started revealing his embarrassing moments, good-naturedly mocking his drunken words.
Wear's face turned beet red, and his neck thickened. He angrily stood up: "It's true! It's true!! It really was a dragon!!"
Arthur looked at Brin, questioning him with his eyes. This kid didn't look drunk.
Brin's face showed a helpless, wry smile. He leaned closer to Arthur and explained in a low voice, "Don't take him seriously, my lord."
"Wear was once a Valley hunter. Because he mistakenly trespassed into a lord's hunting ground and shot a rabbit, his entire family was hanged by that lord. Since then, he's numbed himself with alcohol."
"One time, this kid drank too much and got separated from us."
"When we found him, he was lying in a cave, sleeping soundly, hugging a cold, large stone."
"When he woke up, he kept muttering that he saw a giant dragon, hundreds of meters long, coiled in that cave."
Wear heard Brin telling Lord Arthur this and jumped up from the ground in a hurry.
He pointed to his eyes, his face red and neck thick, arguing, "I really saw it! It wasn't a dream! It really was a dragon!!!"
He looked around, and seeing that no one believed him, he stamped his foot in frustration.
"It was a huge!! A huge stone dragon!!! Its head!!! Was bigger than many cows stacked together!!!!"
He gestured emphatically, trying to make the crowd understand the Shock.
"Most importantly—"
Wear suddenly lowered his voice, a mysterious and fearful expression on his face.
"Its eyes were still moving!"
He took two steps forward, his voice low, like a whisper.
"Those weren't eyeballs; they were two huge, ruby-like stones that… glowed in the dark!"
"The eyeballs kept turning, just following my movements, watching me."
He slowly waved his hand, as if his hand was the dragon's eye. "Just like that… watching me."
The noise around the bonfire seemed to halt at this moment.
Only Wear's rapid breathing and the crackling of the fire remained.
The laughter on the faces of the crowd froze, but soon, everyone began to roar with laughter, slapping their bellies.
Arthur did not laugh.
He quietly watched the emotional Wear, then turned his gaze to the continuously flickering bonfire.
At the center of the flame, it was as if a red, rotating eye was hidden.
He saw the anomaly once again.
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