Jon and his group stayed in the Painted Dog tribe for over ten days.
He had actually left Riverrun earlier than Catelyn.
And since Catelyn was heading to the Stormlands to negotiate an alliance with Renly, she had to go to the Twins first, then north to White Harbor, and finally sail down the east coast of Westeros.
She probably wouldn't be back for three to five months.
Jon had only been out for less than a month, so he wasn't delaying anything.
During this time, Jon's main tasks were waiting and dealing with Miss Sora.
The girl was overly enthusiastic.
Jon kept his distance.
The reason for the ten-day wait was that while the Painted Dogs might not be far from other tribes in straight-line distance, the terrain was the issue.
They were all in the mountains.
Without efficient communication methods like maesters and ravens, it took Hughwolf more than half a month to invite the elders or chiefs of the tribes that hadn't yet joined the Lannisters.
To achieve this, he had spent most of his personal fortune.
But Hughwolf believed it was all worth it.
On the day of the meeting, over a dozen representatives from various tribes gathered in the hall used to entertain Jon.
Although these people were dressed even worse than the soldiers Jon brought, it was clear none of them were simple characters.
After all, no matter how small or simple the group, anyone who carved out a position of status was no fool.
Jon wouldn't underestimate them just because he had broader knowledge.
During this time, Jon hadn't been idle either; he had made plenty of preparations.
After the tribal representatives were seated, Jon had his soldiers bring out a "screen."
There were some crooked patterns on the screen.
"I don't know what this guy is up to. Does he think he can convince these old foxes with a ragged cloth?" Hakon, leaning against the door, sneered.
"What do you know! When I went to see Lord Jon that day, he said this is called... getting investment, and this is a... slide presentation." Little fangirl Sora chimed in.
"Slide? Where's the light?"
Just then, a Winterfell soldier placed an oil lamp behind the "screen," and the patterns on the cloth instantly became clear.
They weren't patterns at all, but a simple map.
It roughly marked the major powers of the Seven Kingdoms.
Seeing the elders and representatives drawn to his "PPT," Jon began his pitch.
"I know you don't trust us outsiders, but I'm here to tell you that it doesn't matter if you trust us or not. Because, gentlemen, disaster is about to fall upon you! Your wives and children, your lands, will soon be seized by others."
Jon's opening remarks certainly shocked quite a few people.
Even Hughwolf hadn't expected Jon to start like this.
But someone reacted quickly, turning to complain to him:
"Hughwolf, did you make us come all this way just to listen to this outsider boy spout nonsense?"
Facing their doubts, Hughwolf looked troubled. He didn't know what Jon was playing at either.
But he couldn't scold Jon.
So he just stood there, looking a bit flustered.
"It seems this elder is confident he can defeat his old rivals who now wield superior weapons? Those tribes like the Black Ears and the Burned Men who followed the Lannisters—the 'tin men' who came to recruit before—if they help win the war and gain better weapons, is it hard to guess what they'll do next?"
When facing doubts, don't get bogged down. Speaking loudly, using volume and momentum to overwhelm the opposition, is sometimes the most effective strategy.
Watching this, Sora's eyes were practically sparkling.
The elder who had questioned Jon realized the point and asked:
"So you're saying you're here to help us?"
"No, only you can help yourselves!"
Jon walked up to his "PPT" and pointed to the location of the Green Fork.
"Previously, we—the tin men from the far North—and the tin men from the far West fought a battle here. There was no clear victor. At this time, the great lord of the far North was murdered by the people of the great lord of the West in a place we call King's Landing. A greater war is about to erupt."
Jon had run press conferences in his past life, so he described the causes and course of the war vividly.
The sheltered elders listened with relish, and even the "Jealous King" Hakon was drawn in by Jon's storytelling.
"The Stag family of the South, the Eagle family of the Vale, and the Flower family here will all join our alliance. The Lion family faces attacks from so many sides; their defeat is inevitable. But here, close to you, they still hold the advantage. So if you join us and win the battle here, then in the future, the lands of the Milk Snakes, the Burned Men, and other traitor tribes will belong to you! Conversely, if we lose here, your enemies will come back to take your lands and enslave your children. So I say, only you can help yourselves! Join us, and it benefits both sides!"
"Yes!"
Sora pumped her fist excitedly by the doorframe.
Jon's explanation was simple yet profound. Even someone like Hakon, who had more muscle than brains, understood it.
Old York stroked his chin with interest; he hadn't expected Jon to be so eloquent.
On the other side, Hughwolf watched Jon's performance closely, waiting for the right moment to make his move.
After hearing Jon's speech, the elders and representatives began whispering among themselves.
It seemed they were swayed.
Enduring the initial battles to win more space for their descendants was certainly a worthwhile trade.
"Your story is interesting, but how do we know if what you said is true or false?"
It was the same tribal representative who spoke first. He voiced the critical question for everyone else.
"Because the great lord of the Wolf family was my father."
Hearing that Jon was a son seeking revenge for his father, sympathy rose in their hearts.
Even Hakon's attitude softened significantly.
Sora, needless to say, looked at Jon with even more pity and affection.
However, the elder pressed on:
"So you say you are the son of a great lord. Then why don't we just capture you? That way, we can trade you for more weapons and food without anyone dying?"
As soon as he said this, the people around them looked hostile.
These mountain clans didn't follow the custom of "Guest Right."
Old York hadn't expected things to spiral out of control so quickly. He tensed up immediately.
Cold sweat streamed down his wrinkled forehead.
Especially since he didn't understand why these people from different tribes were suddenly acting in unison against them!
Were they really that unlikeable?
Jon pushed aside the Winterfell soldier blocking him, drew his longsword, and said:
"Those great lords have plenty of bastards. My head isn't worth much. But if you insist on taking it, a lot of people will die today!"
"No—"
Just as Jon finished speaking, a familiar voice rang out. Sora stepped between Jon and the tribal leaders, spreading her arms to shield him.
"Sora—"
Seeing this, Hakon felt a suffocating tightness in his chest.