After returning to the village, two days passed. Nicholas personally led nearly sixty men from Purple Wisteria Village, marching toward the Northern Mountains along the route agreed upon with the Wildling leader Jarbi.
Considering the need to rest the soldiers before the formal "siege," the march wasn't fast. It wasn't until dusk on the second day that they reached the cheerful creek at the foot of the Northern Mountains.
After ordering the troops to camp, Nicholas dismounted, went to the creek bank, removed his helmet, and washed his face with the icy water. He gulped down several mouthfuls before sighing, "So refreshing! Jon, don't you want to wash up too?"
The young man beside him, wearing the Solag family's ancestral armor and posing on horseback as the Winterfell Captain of the Guard, was Aldric's second student, Jon Snow.
Jon refused Nicholas's offer. "No, my teacher said raw water from creeks and rivers during a march cannot be drunk directly; it must be boiled first."
Nicholas nodded, not pressing further.
Wiping his face with his sleeve, looking at the soldiers setting up tents and lighting fires, he said worriedly, "Will your teacher's plan work?"
"I don't know either... I asked Teacher, and he said if the stratagem fails, he'll just lead men to storm the fortress himself."
Sending Nicholas into the mountains with this force was indeed part of Aldric's original plan.
That day, he discussed with Nicholas and Roland for a long time, deciding Nicholas would act as bait while Aldric and Roland stayed in the village to wait for the enemy.
The soldiers Nicholas brought were his staunch supporters in the village, plus some clear-headed individuals who understood the logic that "if the nest is overturned, no egg remains intact." Roland also contributed significantly to organizing this manpower.
If Nicholas failed to lure the enemy, these dozens of men would immediately convert into a siege force against the fortress. Once the Silver Hand arrived from the village, they would launch the assault.
If the Wildlings neither stayed in camp nor attacked Purple Wisteria Village... that would undoubtedly be the best result.
Just leading these brothers to demolish the abandoned fortress would leave the Wildlings no place to settle nearby, and Purple Wisteria Village naturally wouldn't be their first target for harassment.
As night covered the earth, to guard against a Wildling raid, Nicholas, prepared beforehand, ordered soldiers to sleep in their armor.
After a peaceful night, just as they prepared to break camp the next morning, a long, drawn-out wolf howl came from the distant forest.
"That's Ghost's voice," Jon immediately found Nicholas. "I told him earlier to signal if he saw a large group of Wildlings passing through the forest."
Nicholas hesitated. "Is your direwolf reliable?"
"I've heard of lying men, never lying wolves."
Clearly, Jon had zero doubt about his little wolf's ability to understand and execute orders.
So Nicholas ordered the militia ready to march north, "Attention all! Turn around! Return to the village!"
On the other side, in the dense forest where the Northern Mountain foothills met the Wolfswood, Wildling leaders Jarbi and Gould walked side by side. Hearing the wolf howl from far behind, Gould was surprised. "Are there direwolves on this side of the Wall too?"
Jarbi was the black-haired leader Nicholas met in the fortress hall. He dismissed it. "Who knows? We came from the north; naturally, direwolves can too. Hope it's a good omen."
He shouted to the long line behind him, "Faster! Must reach Purple Wisteria Village outskirts before dark!"
In the gloomy forest, he dragged a tail of over fifty people—men with great axes and wooden shields, women with short spears—all agile, experienced raiders.
Far away in Purple Wisteria Village, Aldric lay quietly on the roof of the Solag fortress hall, covering himself with a brown-and-white cowhide, focused on the Northern Mountains. The village's elderly, women, and children were hidden in cellars.
In houses along the main road, villagers had stowed away all fragile valuables. All able-bodied men willing to fight held weapons, silently awaiting the battle.
Dusk fell. Kevin, fully armored as a "Lightbringer Acolyte," climbed the roof and handed his teacher a wineskin. "Teacher, warmed new wine. Drink while hot to warm up."
Aldric took the skin, gulped a few mouthfuls, feeling the heat spread to his limbs, then asked, "Is below ready?"
Kevin answered, "Ready. Besides our men, there are over twenty village volunteers. Uncle Roland placed them behind us."
Aldric nodded. "Good. Tell Roland to organize those volunteers to block potential Wildling escape routes. That's enough. During the fight, don't let those brave villagers stand in front of our brothers to avoid accidental injury. Also, the Silver Hand and villagers never practiced coordination, so remind Conrad to hold the line. Don't let brothers' attack rhythm be disrupted by messy villager attacks."
"Yes, Teacher."
Kevin turned to leave, then crawled back. "Want me to relieve you for a while?"
Aldric waved impatiently. "Instead of dawdling here, go help others check the brothers' equipment again."
In the few days at Purple Wisteria Village, besides daily training, Aldric had Rennel lead Jon to collect leather in the village and hire people to make protective gear for unarmored soldiers.
The Sheriff had hunting rights, so furs weren't rare or expensive here. Aldric spent less than two Gold Dragons for materials to equip all Silver Hand soldiers.
Due to the Wildling threat, women dared not work the fields. Men took over farm work, leaving no one for side jobs, causing much distress.
So when Aldric ordered twenty sets of leather armor via Roland, the village women were enthusiastic, finishing quickly and well.
In less than ten days, every Silver Hand soldier swapped old furs for rough but reliable new leather armor.
After Kevin left, Aldric lay alone on the roof, sipping sweet-sour new ale, watching the sunset-reddened snowy peaks, feeling uneasy.
Will the plan go as smoothly as calculated?
Will the Wildlings really dare attack the village?
Can Nicholas return in time to block escaping Wildlings?
Can the Silver Hand soldiers, trained for barely a month, withstand this trial of blood and iron?
These questions spun in Aldric's head without answers.
War tossed him like a coin into the air; only when he landed would he know if it was heads or tails.
Thinking this, Aldric unconsciously reached for the vial of Heart Tree sap at his waist, rejoicing: Luckily, luckily, I still have a cheat code.
When the sun fell into the western mountains and the afterglow was dispelled by the rising moon, Bell's roar came from the forest at the mountain foot—the signal agreed with Eddie, who was scouting from high ground.
Hearing it, Aldric pulled a rope nearby. Soon, Silver Hand soldier Kili came under the fortress wall, asking in a hushed voice, "Commander, what is it?"
"Notify everyone, prepare for battle!"
At this moment, in the forest just three hundred meters northwest of the village, the Wildling raiding party rested to recover stamina under the leaders' orders.
"Father, I heard a bear roar. Should we send men to hunt it?"
"Business first. No side issues now. Tell everyone to rest a bit more. No fires, no loud talking."
Gould sighed at Raman's retreating figure. "You have a nice son."
Jarbi smiled reservedly. "After tonight, you can have many sons. One will satisfy you."
Gould grinned cruelly, scratching his crotch, gripping his long knife. "My great axe is thirsty!"
A while later, seeing lights in the village, Jarbi ordered the resting raiders, "Now, drink your water, follow me. No sound allowed."
Inside the Solag fortress, aided by moonlight, Aldric saw figures emerging from the forest, followed by more.
Aldric counted. The number was double Eddie's reconnaissance report. He felt uneasy. Can we handle this many?
But the arrow was nocked; it had to fly. He climbed down, ordering two soldiers in the yard, "Return to ranks, prepare for battle! Tell your captains enemies are more than estimated, but tell them not to worry, execute the plan."
"Yes, Commander."
The two jogged to their positions. Aldric put on his helmet and hid in the hall, ready to give the Wildlings a big surprise.
The raiders quietly crossed the fields, hugging the walls of outer houses to hide.
Jarbi crouched outside the main gate, tapping lightly. Soon, a clack sounded.
The gate opened. A rat-faced youth saw him and smiled widely. "You're the guest Nick mentioned? Follow me!"
The youth turned to run inward, then Jarbi's axe split his back. He collapsed.
"Fool who betrays his kin!"
Jarbi spat on the body, then raised his arm. "Brothers, this village is yours! Go!"
Impatient raiders swarmed in behind him.
Jarbi led his elites and Gould toward the Sheriff's fortress. Experienced, he knew these roadside paupers had nothing; the good stuff was in the fortress.
But as he rushed to the fortress gate, it opened slowly, revealing a neat formation.
At the front were two fully armored shield-bearers. Behind them, three long spears and a small tree with full branches extending out.
Seeing the shield-bearers' cold eyes, Jarbi's heart went cold.
It's a trap.
But so what? If the prey is big enough, the trap will break. "Brothers, kill these cowardly kneelers!"
Encouraged, warriors behind him swarmed forward.
The lead warrior raised his axe to tear the formation with brute force but was brushed in the eyes by the shaking tree branches. Before he could clear his vision, a sharp pain hit his chest. Struggling to open his eyes, he saw a bloody spearhead withdrawing from his chest.
The warrior behind him fared no better, swept and stabbed to the ground.
Occasional brave ones who got close couldn't break the heavy shield defense.
Jarbi didn't rush first; as a leader, he preferred commanding from behind.
As for Gould, who loved leading charges, he was already lying on the ground, breathless.
After several deaths, Jarbi observed the formation and shouted, "Idiots? Flank from the sides!"
He grabbed a nearby warrior and pushed him to the flank.
Jarbi thought if they killed the flanker, spears must turn, giving him a chance to close in.
Just kill the two heavy warriors in front, and the spearmen behind are easy.
Unfortunately, when his subordinate attacked the flank, the spears didn't move. A soldier with a pitchfork jumped from the rear, blocked the attacker's weapon, and an archer shot him in the face. The fork-man then easily finished the fallen raider.
The fortress gate wasn't wide. Flanking to attack the rear wasn't simple.
Seeing the bodies piling up, Jarbi realized he couldn't break this trap. He turned to gather the looting men to overwhelm the enemy with numbers.
But he found a similar formation blocking the gate they entered.
"Free Folk! We die before begging kneelers for mercy!"
Jarbi raised his arms. The Wildlings' flagging morale surged again. Just then, an arrow pierced his throat straight through.
Aldric slowly lowered his longbow, shouting majestically, "Silver Hand! Repeat my order: Drop weapons, kneel! Surrender and live!"
"Drop weapons, kneel! Surrender and live!"
"Drop weapons, kneel! Surrender and live!"
From scattered shouts to unified roars, the Silver Hand's chant echoed through the small village.
By now, both Wildling leaders were dead. Only twenty not-brave-enough and not-greedy-enough men stood among the corpses.
Seeing the Silver Hand slow the offensive and promise life, the Free Folk, used to the law of the jungle, dropped weapons and knelt.
The Silver Hand formation held. Organized by Roland, surviving Free Folk were led to the village square and tied up.
Only then did Aldric order, "Dismiss formation! Collect weapons and loot!"
Throughout the battle, Aldric attacked only once. The soldiers' calm, sharp style satisfied him greatly. He even regretted his prepared Holy Light wasn't used.
Kevin took off his helmet. "Teacher, what about prisoners? Kill them all?"
"Ah, why would you think that?"
"Ah... I thought you were just tricking them."
Damn, my image in my student's heart is ruined.
Aldric shook his head. "Not for now. Later I'll interrogate them. Execute those with blood debts. The rest... Kevin, remember, people are a resource too. Waste not."
By this time, Nicholas's group returned. But the battle was over; they could only help clean up bodies.
Watching Silver Hand soldiers with dripping spears, Nicholas sighed, "Commander Aldric, your subordinates' combat power is impressive."
Aldric shook his head. "These Wildlings are just armed civilians. Without stepping on a real battlefield, one never knows if they are qualified soldiers."
Just then, commotion erupted behind. A squad soldier rushed to Aldric. "Commander! Torn was stabbed in the chest! Captain Conrad asks you to come!"