Two of the mountain clan veterans Jon brought had died. Another was heavily wounded and clearly wouldn't make it.
He had single-handedly held off three tribal warriors just moments ago.
The remaining two were also badly injured.
Perhaps if Jon had insisted on bringing more Winterfell elites, the situation would have been different.
But this was mountain terrain. The paths were terrifyingly treacherous in many places.
Men with lesser agility might have just fallen to their deaths.
It was a dilemma with no perfect answer.
Hakon was pale from blood loss, but fortunately, none of his wounds were fatal.
Plus, he was young and strong; surviving shouldn't be a problem.
The reason he dared to ask Sora such a question was likely because the emotions had peaked.
While Jon confiscated the tribal warriors' weapons, he secretly listened to Sora's explanation.
Not out of vanity—although Jon's features were decent, he lacked the ethereal beauty of a Targaryen.
He genuinely wanted to know what about him had attracted Sora.
Sora bandaged Hakon as she spoke in a hoarse voice:
"Hakon, do you know about my mother?"
Hakon didn't understand the connection, but he nodded.
"She wasn't from the Painted Dogs. My father kidnapped her from the lowlands when he was young. Her father was a knight."
Sora touched the ring on her hand.
"Before she died, she told me she hated my father every single day. Hakon, do you know? The thought of marrying you, bearing you a son who would one day go down the mountain to pillage and kidnap some poor woman... I couldn't accept you."
Sora's voice trembled with tears.
The others were moved by her words.
Hakon himself had participated in raids down the mountain.
Naturally, he had raped lowland women too.
Today was the first time the girl he loved pointed out how much she detested such actions.
Of course, Hughwolf and his warriors were unmoved.
Kidnapping women and taking slaves was their tradition.
What was wrong with it?
They just thought Sora was being overly dramatic.
After more than half an hour, the bandaging was done.
The dying veteran Jon brought was drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering something about "twenty pounds of grain, twenty pounds of grain."
Jon walked over, patted his shoulder, and whispered:
"I will have three hundred pounds of grain and a hundred pounds of meat sent to your family. Rest easy."
Receiving Jon's promise, the old mountain clansman let out a long breath, a smile appearing on his pale face.
The autumn wind sighed, and the forest rustled, as if bidding farewell to the old man who had worked hard all his life and still worried about his children.
Jon adjusted the old man's appearance, planning to bury him later in a place with a good view.
The two remaining injured veterans, hearing Jon's promise, looked eager to die themselves, even craning their necks toward the cliff edge.
Trading their lives for three hundred pounds of grain and a hundred pounds of meat? What a deal!
Fortunately, Jon stopped them.
"You only get it if you die in battle! For every enemy you kill, I'll add a hundred pounds of grain!"
Hearing Jon's addition, the veterans stopped thinking about suicide and instead grinned foolishly, calculating how long a hundred pounds of grain would feed their children.
Their appearance made Jon sigh softly.
In the near future, kings would die like roadside dogs, let alone people like them.
If Jon's initial motivation was to preserve humanity's strength against the White Walkers, then at this moment, he genuinely just wished for fewer people to die.
Jon turned to Hughwolf. He had wrapped his severed wrist in cloth, but blood still soaked through.
Hughwolf's face was as white as paper.
"What exactly is on the mountain that you insisted I climb up?"
"I told you, it's useless unless you go up."
Shing—
Jon drew his sword, pressing the tip against Hughwolf's throat. His voice was cold.
"If you want to live, answer my questions."
Feeling the cold steel on his neck, Hughwolf spoke quickly:
"There are dragon eggs on the mountain. I wanted to go up to hatch a dragon."
Thought so!
Hearing this, both Jon and Old York felt a surge of excitement. Their guess was right!
The others looked at him in astonishment.
Dragon eggs on the mountain?
"What's a dragon egg?" Hakon asked. It had to be said, the guy's constitution was robust; Sora had just stopped his bleeding, and he had already recovered some strength.
Or perhaps Sora's clear rejection had untied the knot in his heart.
Sora patiently explained to Hakon, while Jon pressed further on how Hughwolf knew this.
"My ancestor was a descendant of the Fire Witch. Her dragon was called Sheepstealer. Over a hundred years ago, Sheepstealer mated with the dragon of a Targaryen prince. When Sheepstealer left, she carried fertilized dragon eggs."
"That was actually a Targaryen Prince-Consort. We call him Prince Daemon, or the Rogue Prince," Old York interjected, unable to resist showing off his knowledge.
At the same time, he developed a keen interest in the peak.
Although dragons had been extinct for over a hundred years—nearly two hundred—just seeing a dragon egg would be amazing!
Given Hughwolf's story and his heat resistance, Jon believed he wasn't lying.
In that case, it was worth a trip.
"Old York, check the ropes. I'm going up."
"My Lord! It's too dangerous. Let's wait until we can bring more men and build a long ladder."
"Wait? There might not be a 'later'."
Who knew when he'd be able to come back?
The future situation would be ten times more chaotic than now!
And it seemed that if he could climb Fire-Cache Peak, the cobbled-together tribal warriors would respect him more, making it easier to integrate the army.
Looking at the withered pine tree at the top of the cliff, it was almost directly above them.
Between them lay seventy or eighty meters of near-vertical, bare rock.
You'd have to lean dangerously far out just to see it, let alone whatever was above the pine tree.
But Jon had a plan.
"Jon... Lord Jon, you... you're going up, right? You saw it, I don't fear heat. We who carry the Dragon King's blood don't fear heat. Just let me go, and when I hatch the dragon and rule the Seven Kingdoms, I will reward you! My Lord! You're from the North, right? I'll make you the Earl of the North!"
Jon looked at Hughwolf and almost laughed out loud.
The man gave off a ridiculous "I am the Emperor of Qin, send me money" vibe.
"No need. You can go back now," Jon said mockingly.
"What?!"
Jon kicked him hard. Hughwolf screamed as he fell off the cliff.
His scream echoed through the mountains before being swallowed by the peaks.
Then, without hesitation, Jon killed all the men Hughwolf had brought.
The fewer people who knew about the dragon eggs, the better.
Just as Jon was figuring out how to climb the rock face, his "System" suddenly changed.
A new perk appeared before his eyes—
[The Unburnt]