Yangtou Mountain is located 30 kilometers northwest of a shallow riverbed.
This ferry crossing is several days' journey from Horwood, but only half a day's journey from Winterfell.
The muscular Ramsay Snow was urging his soldiers to cross the river as quickly as possible.
He sat on his horse, gazing toward Winterfell, a malicious smile on his face.
Unlike the original work.
At the very first moment when the war broke out between the lions and wolves, the Iron Islands did not choose to remain bystanders, but instead launched a three-pronged attack on the northern border.
Therefore, Winterfell did not hold a harvest feast.
Therefore, the Countess of Horwood did not go to Winterfell, but stayed in Horwood to mourn her husband and son who had died in the war in the south.
Incidentally, her fate of being kidnapped by Rams, forced into marriage, and then starved to death also changed.
But Rams still had his eye on Holwood.
The moment he received news from his father that the Earl of Horwood and his heir had died in battle, he realized that Horwood, now devoid of men, was a piece of meat right in front of him.
Rams was instantly smitten.
In order to prove to his father, Roose Bolton, that he was the real Bolton, Ramsay decided to take over Howood and offer it to his father.
then.
While Winterfell was pleading for help from all sides, Ramsay had already led his army toward Horwood.
But things changed in ways he never imagined.
Just as Rams was halfway there, he received several more pieces of news that surprised him.
Carlin Bay was occupied by the Iron Islands, Toren Square fell, and Winterfell requested aid.
The clever Ramsay Bolton instantly realized that Winterfell was probably in grave danger.
Sure enough, Ramsay soon received news that Euron was wreaking havoc on the outskirts of Seven City.
The fact that Winterfell did not send troops to fight further confirmed his suspicions.
"Winterfell is probably just an empty shell."
"Rather than being breached by the Ironborn, I'd rather go and take Stark away first."
"How can Holwood compare to Winterfell!"
"If I marry a Stark, then the entire North will belong to Bolton, and Father will be overjoyed!"
Rams immediately changed his marching direction.
He sent word to his father while crossing the Whiteblade River toward Winterfell.
On the road.
Ramsay turned to his servant and said, "You rascal, what do you think I should do to win Stark's heart?"
The stinky old man grinned wickedly, "Of course it's thanks to your **!"
Ramston burst into laughter.
"You're right, even the Giant Bear Slayer can't compare to me!"
"And there's still no news from Deepwood Fortress; I doubt they're even able to protect themselves. I wonder who's stronger, the Giant Bear Slayer or my dog!"
The smelly guy next to him smiled and made a suggestion.
"Once we take Winterfell, we can capture the Bearslayer and let him fight the dogs to the death. Let's see who's stronger."
Rams looked even more pleased.
"That's right, let Stark be the referee then. She'll be so happy to see her fiancé get bitten to death by a dog!"
"Ha ha-"
The stinky guy laughed along with him.
After Ramsay led his army across the river, he immediately charged toward Winterfell.
They were afraid that if they fell behind, the iron-type would get there first.
In just half a day, they arrived at the winter resort town.
But Ramsay did not proceed. He gazed at the Ironborn corpses scattered across the wilderness, realizing that someone must be coming to Winterfell's rescue.
Who exactly is it?
"How dare you ruin my plans? You're asking for it!"
He angrily cursed a couple of times on the spot.
But as Ramsay looked at the ruined Winterfell and the sparse garrison on the walls, a glint of greed, cruelty, and eagerness flashed in his eyes.
With a quick thought, he sent men to probe the situation inside the city, attempting to trick Winterfell into opening its gates under the guise of a rescue mission.
But no matter what the soldiers said, Jon insisted on Galon's orders and did not open the city gates to let Ramsay Bolton into the city.
Just as Rams was agonizing over this, the earth began to tremble.
An army with impeccable discipline and an undiminished air of killing intent appeared on the horizon.
The Grover family's red banner with silver steel fists fluttered in the wind.
Galon took the lead, his cold gaze immediately noticing the Bolton army near the winter town and the well-known bastard.
"Ramson Jon Snow... Ramsay Bolton has finally come!"
"Top-notch cannon fodder!"
A playful smile appeared on his lips, and he led his army toward Bolton.
"It's Glover?!"
Rams watched the approaching army, his expression changing repeatedly.
Although the enemy outnumbered them, Grover's army moved in unison and their ranks were orderly.
The soldiers' faces were filled with high morale, as if any enemy they encountered would be crushed in one fell swoop.
Their silent march exuded a far greater sense of oppression than a noisy army.
On the other hand, the army at Dreadfort was filled with a cacophony of noise, clearly intimidated by Grover's powerful aura.
Rams's eyes quickly filled with vigilance and calculation.
"On the battlefield, I am no match for him!"
"But who says that victory and defeat must be decided on the battlefield?"
A faint, unsettling smile appeared on his lips as he rode to the front of the army and greeted Galon.
"May I ask if you are Lord Galon?"
"I am Ramsay of Dreadfort, son of Earl Bolton!"
Garon reined in his horse, his cold gaze sweeping over Ramsay Bolton and the soldiers behind him before finally settling back on Ramsay himself.
He did not speak immediately.
But the authoritative gaze seemed to see through the darkness in Rams' heart, making him feel extremely uneasy.
The air was almost frozen.
It wasn't until Galon spoke meaningfully, "The fact that you arrived so quickly shows how loyal Bolton truly is," that things changed.
Rams' eyes darted around, and he launched into a series of platitudes.
"Of course, I heard that the iron species was rampant, so I rushed here day and night to provide assistance."
"To see Winterfell safe and sound now is truly a blessing from the gods!"
His words flowed smoothly and naturally, as if he were truly a loyal ally who had come to the rescue.
But Galon couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
"Bolton is very kind," he said calmly, his voice revealing neither joy nor anger. "I have been entrusted by Lord Stark to oversee all defenses within the city."
He paused, then added meaningfully, "The castle is crowded now, so please, Bolton, set up camp in the winter town for the time being. Once you're settled..."
"Then come with me to Winterfell to meet Lord Stark, shall we?"
With a single, casual remark, Galon kept Bolton's thousand troops outside Winterfell, extinguishing any thought Ramsay might have of taking advantage of the situation to enter the city.
Rams's eye twitched slightly, but his smile remained unchanged.
"That's how it should be, that's how it should be!"
"We will be stationed outside the city, ready to be at Lord Garon's command at any time, to jointly protect Lord Stark and the safety of the North!"
He emphasized the words "Lord Stark" slightly, as if reminding Galon who the rightful heir was.
Galon narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn't say anything more.
He nodded and led his army in a grand procession past Bolton's camp back to Winterfell.
Jon Snow, who was standing on the wall, saw Garon return and quickly opened the city gates to let Garon and his army pass through.
As Rams watched Galon's departing figure, the smile on his face slowly vanished, replaced by a sinister, venomous look.
He licked his thick lips, his eyes gleaming with an even more dangerous and patient light.
"It's okay, winning first isn't winning, winning later is what counts as winning!"
Rams muttered to himself for a moment, then turned and began to set up camp for his army in the winter town.
He's going to meet with Stark later.
Meanwhile, Garon, who had returned to the city, had found Sansa and Maester Luwin and began discussing the control of the Northern military.