The night passed quickly.
Before dawn, Kevan Lannister, who had not slept all night, personally woke the exhausted soldiers huddled beneath the shelter of wind-beaten mountain rocks, wrapped tightly in thick furs.
The dying embers of the campfires were stirred back to life with fresh logs.
Dried meat and precious salted fish—supplies usually saved for desperate times—were chopped into small pieces and tossed into steaming pots.
Soon, the rich aroma of the stew drifted through the freezing air.
One after another, the weary soldiers gathered around the fires, rubbing warmth back into their frozen hands and eagerly swallowing their saliva.
---
Tywin Lannister walked calmly through the camp.
From time to time, he stopped to exchange a few quiet words with the men who still followed him.
Kevan remained only a step behind his older brother, silently watching as Tywin spoke with the soldiers.
He said nothing.
When everyone had eaten their fill and regained some warmth, the hidden army finally marched out from the nameless mountain valley where they had taken refuge.
Snow crunched beneath thousands of boots as they slowly descended toward the open plains.
---
"We're about to enter the Wolfswood."
Kevan pointed toward the endless forest ahead.
"Forest clans, hunters, and crofters still live there."
"With their help, we'll be able to gather supplies and continue our retreat toward Deepwood Motte."
"The seat of House Glover lies within those woods."
The Wolfswood stretched across the northwestern reaches of the North.
Ancient oaks, evergreen pines, and dense blackthorn forests covered its vast expanse.
Its name came from the endless howls of wolves echoing beneath its towering canopy.
Deepwood Motte stood deep within the forest.
It was also Tywin's destination.
---
Tywin lifted his gaze toward the endless sea of snow.
The blizzard had transformed the world into an endless sheet of white.
Sky and earth blended together until no boundary remained.
Ever since the Citadel had declared the end of summer and the arrival of autumn...
The North had grown colder with every passing day.
Snowflakes drifted gently through the air.
Tywin reached out from horseback, allowing several flakes to land upon his gloved hand.
"Robb Stark..."
"And Roose Bolton..."
"They'll certainly have scouts watching this region."
"There's no avoiding discovery."
He looked toward the falling snow.
"This storm came at exactly the right time."
"I just don't know how long it will last."
"We need to move faster."
"If we're destined to be discovered..."
"Then speed is the only way to reduce our losses."
---
For reasons he couldn't fully explain...
Tywin increasingly felt that fortune itself favored him.
It was almost as though the gods were guiding every step he took.
Otherwise...
There was no logical explanation for how he had survived these past several months after leaving Last Hearth.
Despite constant pursuit...
He had suffered surprisingly few losses.
Even more unbelievable...
The northern armies had never managed to catch him.
Robb Stark knew the North better than anyone.
Yet somehow...
He had repeatedly failed to corner Tywin within his own homeland.
It felt like a miracle.
Looking back...
Everything had changed from the moment Tywin decided to abandon the Night's Watch.
The Valyrian steel weapon he had sought for half his life had practically fallen into his hands.
When he needed to escape Castle Black...
An impossible warm spell had melted the frozen wilderness of the far North.
Whenever enemy scouts searched for him...
Fate always found a way to let him slip past unnoticed.
And now...
As he prepared to leave the mountains and enter the Wolfswood...
A perfectly timed snowstorm had arrived to conceal his movements.
Watching the snowflakes melt into tiny drops of water upon his palm...
Tywin slowly closed his hand.
Then he wiped away the moisture.
Pulled his gloves tight.
Looked once toward the heavens.
And quietly urged his horse forward.
To him...
This was nothing less than a blessing from the gods.
---
The snowstorm continued for two full days.
Hidden beneath the swirling snow...
Tywin's army moved silently across the frozen landscape.
The blizzard concealed both their figures and the tracks they left behind.
Like ghosts...
More than three thousand men crossed the wilderness without making a sound.
Only when the snowfall finally stopped—less than an hour before reaching the Wolfswood—did scattered northern scouts finally discover them.
"Hurry!"
"They'll catch us within half a day..."
"One day at most!"
At the command...
The exhausted soldiers summoned the last of their strength and hurried into the shelter of the forest.
They marched until dusk.
Eventually...
They came upon a secluded village.
Roughly ten families lived there.
Nearby fields still showed signs of careful cultivation.
Kevan looked around before turning toward Tywin.
"Brother..."
"This village is perfect."
"It can serve as both a temporary camp..."
"And a defensive position."
"Deepwood Motte is only half a day's march from here."
---
The peaceful village became the victim of an undeserved tragedy.
The quiet forest soon echoed with screams.
Cries for mercy.
Desperate pleas.
The sounds of men laughing.
Women weeping.
Pain.
Fear.
Hopelessness.
Tywin remained completely unmoved.
He listened only as Kevan calmly reported the army's preparations.
After a moment...
Tywin nodded.
"We cannot appear to take the initiative."
"Our actions must look convincing."
"If necessary..."
"We'll pay a small price."
He offered no further explanation.
He didn't need to.
Kevan already understood exactly what his brother intended.
"I understand."
As Kevan turned to leave...
His eyes briefly wandered toward the devastated village.
The contrast between the soldiers' laughter and the villagers' despair was almost unbearable.
Tywin noticed.
Without even looking up, he spoke coldly.
"This indulgence is necessary, Kevan."
Kevan slowly withdrew his gaze.
His face returned to its usual calm expression.
"...I understand."
"I'll make the arrangements."
---
"They're just ahead, Lord Stark."
"Our scouts have been following them ever since they were discovered."
Two days of snowfall finally gave way to a clear night.
A brilliant full moon illuminated the snowy wilderness, bathing everything in pale silver light.
Roose Bolton sneered after hearing the ranger's report.
"I never expected Tywin Lannister to leave the mountains during such heavy snowfall."
Whether he was mocking Tywin...
Or lamenting the precious time they had wasted...
No one could tell.
---
Robb Stark remained silent.
The youthful innocence had long since disappeared from his face.
Months of war had transformed him into a far more mature commander.
Without answering Roose...
He accepted a parchment map from one of his guards.
After untying the leather cord...
He unfolded it.
Instead of studying it immediately...
He looked toward another man standing nearby.
"Lord Galbart Glover."
"This is your family's territory."
"You know these lands better than any of us."
"Where do you think Tywin is heading?"
Throughout the pursuit...
Robb had continually called upon the loyal bannermen of House Stark for support.
Lord Galbart Glover...
The Lord of Deepwood Motte...
Was one of those who had answered the call.
Glover stepped closer.
He barely glanced at the map before smiling faintly.
"I don't need a map to know my own lands."
"If I did..."
"I wouldn't deserve to rule them."
Several men chuckled quietly.
Then Galbart's expression became serious.
"About a league ahead..."
"There's a fairly large village."
"It's close enough to Deepwood Motte that trade frequently passes through it."
Harlon Tallhart immediately stepped forward.
"You think Tywin's men are there?"
Galbart nodded grimly.
"If they are..."
"I'm afraid the villagers have already suffered."
---
Realizing the seriousness of the situation...
Robb immediately spread the map across a nearby stone.
After examining it briefly...
He drew a circle over one location.
Roose Bolton.
Rickard Karstark.
Harlon Tallhart.
Galbart Glover.
Lady Maege Mormont.
All gathered around.
"They're most likely here."
Robb looked at the assembled lords.
"Does anyone have a better plan?"
Despite serving as commander...
Robb still showed proper respect toward his elders.
Rather than issuing orders immediately...
He first asked for their opinions.
Rickard Karstark spoke first.
"We should surround them completely."
"Then launch a surprise attack during the second half of the night."
"If possible..."
"We end everything here."
Several lords nodded.
It certainly sounded like the fastest solution.
---
Robb remained silent for a moment.
Then he frowned.
"Lord Karstark..."
"Tywin still commands at least three or four thousand men."
"If we surround them without leaving any avenue of escape..."
"They'll fight like cornered beasts."
He looked around the gathering.
"Even rabbits bite when trapped."
His words immediately sobered everyone.
The army gathered here belonged to the great northern houses.
These weren't expendable troops.
Every soldier represented generations of sacrifice and hard-earned strength.
If Tywin launched one desperate counterattack...
The losses would be catastrophic.
No lord wished to squander his family's military strength in such a reckless gamble.
Harlon Tallhart and Galbart Glover exchanged glances before both looked toward Rickard.
Galbart quickly added,
"And this village is too close to Deepwood Motte."
"If they break through our encirclement..."
"My lands will suffer even greater devastation."
"We need a better plan."
---
With Rickard's proposal rejected...
Silence settled over the group.
Instinctively...
Everyone looked toward Robb.
Before he could speak...
Roose Bolton finally broke his silence.
"If we can't trap them..."
"Then we pursue them."
"Without rest."
"Without mercy."
"We drive them exactly where we want them to go."
He paused.
"The difficulty..."
"Is forcing them forward without making them desperate."
"We must keep them running..."
"But never corner them completely."
Robb slowly stroked the beard that had recently begun growing across his jaw.
His eyes remained fixed on the map.
His mind raced.
They had finally cornered Tywin...
Yet the final step had become unexpectedly difficult.
No one spoke.
Not even Rickard Karstark.
---
At last...
Lady Maege Mormont stepped forward.
"The Wolfswood is enormous."
"If we simply chase them..."
"We'll waste valuable time."
"Snowstorms can begin again at any moment."
"We don't have the luxury of waiting."
She looked around the gathering.
"If victory demands a price..."
"Then we must be willing to pay it."
Her voice carried unmistakable anger.
As the sister of Jeor Mormont, the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch...
Her reasons for joining this campaign were deeply personal.
Robb slowly nodded.
"You're right, Lady Mormont."
"We can't allow fear of casualties to paralyze us."
"We have to stop Tywin here."
A confident smile gradually spread across his face.
His youthful features still remained...
But now they carried the composure of a true commander.
"That said..."
"We also can't act recklessly."
"I already have a plan."
"And this..."
He looked around at every lord gathered before him.
"...is what we'll do next."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)