No one cared about Hughwolf's death.
Hakon and Sora wouldn't speak of it, and Victor wouldn't ask.
Besides, with Hughwolf dead, all his property, his wives, and even his daughters would belong to Victor.
To celebrate Jon's successful summit of Fire-Cache Peak and safe return, Victor held a grand feast.
The feast wasn't lavish—just some boiled meat, wild vegetables, and fruit.
But seated at the place of honor was Jon, with a moon painted on his forehead and fierce dogs painted on his body.
Since returning from Fire-Cache Peak, the elders and representatives of the other tribes looked at Jon with reverence.
Such a fierce man had proven both his strength and wisdom.
There would be no problem entrusting the tribe's warriors to him.
So, everyone stepped forward to show their sincerity.
Cheek stood up first and said:
"My Mist Men tribe will provide Lord Jon with three hundred warriors!"
"Our Howling Mountain tribe will provide Lord Jon with two hundred and forty warriors!"
"Our Cut-Stream tribe will provide Lord Jon with four hundred warriors!"
"..."
Soon, the various mountain clans that hadn't joined the Lannisters pooled together an army of over two thousand men for Jon.
Jon knew well that these tribes frequently fought each other. Integrating these two thousand men into a cohesive unit would take considerable effort.
But for him, this wasn't a major problem.
He just needed to establish clear rules, enforce strict rewards and punishments, and set boundaries.
Then, with some "team building," he could begin to mold them into a whole.
Of course, the most important thing was to lead them to victory.
There were no cohesion issues that victory couldn't solve.
Or rather, victory could solve any problem!
Jon immediately downed a large cup of wine, stood up, and declared:
"I promise that every one of these warriors will be clad in armor like my men. After we win the war, that armor will be their payment! I will also help you conquer other tribes! But if any warrior disobeys orders or retreats in battle, I will show no mercy!"
When Jon first arrived in the Mountains of the Moon, he wouldn't have dared speak like this.
But now, as the first person in a century to climb Fire-Cache Peak, no one dared to object.
However, to Jon's surprise, Cheek—the man who liked to challenge him—stood up again.
His steps were firm, his expression solemn, as if heavy thoughts weighed on him.
Cheek stood in the center of the hall, facing everyone, and asked:
"Lord Jon, do you know why we are called 'Mountain Clans'?"
Lord? You? This choice of words surprised not only Old York but Jon as well.
"Isn't it because you live in the mountains?" Old York, slightly tipsy, piped up from the side.
Cheek smiled. This time he didn't make Jon guess but stated the reason directly:
"Because we were driven into the mountains!"
In fact, neither the Targaryens nor the Andal invaders who worshipped the Seven were the original inhabitants of Westeros.
The natives of Westeros were called the "First Men."
Legend had it that the First Men lived on this land alongside giants and Children of the Forest.
But after the Andals, skilled in forging steel, migrated to Westeros, they drove them out.
The Northerners were the most "pure" branch of the First Men.
They were never conquered but maintained their independence until Aegon the Conqueror arrived on Balerion the Black Dread.
"Lord Jon, life here is hard. Out of ten children born, maybe one survives to adulthood. You must have noticed there are almost no elderly people here. Almost no one in the Mountains of the Moon has ever met their grandfather. If you obtain a fiefdom in the future, please grant us your protection."
After speaking, Cheek actually knelt directly before Jon.
"Please grant us your protection. We are willing to accept you as our liege lord."
After Cheek spoke, Victor also stood up and prostrated himself at Jon's feet.
One by one, the tribal leaders and representatives followed suit.
Jon suddenly remembered that many of the tribes who followed the Lannisters had stayed in the Kingswood area.
Some who did well even remained in King's Landing.
"Liege Lord." Old York looked at the tribesmen kneeling before Jon, then turned to look at Jon.
A bastard with neither land nor title is about to become the liege lord of tens of thousands?
Looking at the tribal leaders kneeling before him, Jon didn't feel much joy at gaining power.
He had thought this alliance would be a "one-time" transaction; he hadn't expected them to propose such terms.
Jon considered it for a moment, then slowly stood up and said:
"I, Jon Snow, promise that if I one day obtain my own territory, I will accept your allegiance and provide you with protection."
People are pledging loyalty before he even has land?
Old York felt his worldview being somewhat upended by the scene before him.
But then he remembered that on the way to the Mountains of the Moon, Jon had said he didn't agree with the River lords reclaiming lost territories.
Jon had said it would disperse their forces and allow Tywin to defeat them piecemeal.
He also said something very philosophical: "Save people, lose land; land can be retaken. Save land, lose people; both are lost."
Looking at it this way, people were indeed more important than land.
Only with people could one find land and defend land.
But where exactly was Jon's "land"?
A map of the North and the Riverlands slowly unfolded in Old York's mind, but after thinking it over several times, he couldn't find a place for Jon to settle.
---
Perhaps because of this "liege lord and vassal" relationship, Jon's reorganization of the two thousand tribal warriors went very smoothly.
Only one thing gave him a headache—Jon couldn't find any qualified "mid-level officers."
The warfare these clan warriors knew was "tribal conflict." They fought without any formation or tactics, basically just swarming forward.
Just like Jon had seen at the Battle of the Green Fork.
Tyrion had used them as cannon fodder; as long as they charged forward, it was fine.
But Jon intended them to be his future army, so he had to train them.
In the end, he had to "pick generals from dwarfs," selecting over twenty centurions.
Since the tribesmen respected strength, these twenty-odd men were basically the best fighters among the two thousand.
Relying on these men, Jon barely maintained the army's structure.
If he had six months, Jon was confident he could mold them into an army that met his standards.
Three months, and he could make them into an elite force by Westerosi standards.
But he didn't even have a month. He just let them get familiar with formations before marching the army out.
"After we get back, move everyone in the tribe deep into the mountains," Victor suggested to Cheek as they watched the army flow away like a mighty river.
Cheek nodded.
In at most two months, the Vale lords would learn that their "military strength was empty."
Once the Vale soldiers came to sweep through, they absolutely wouldn't be able to hold them off.
These mountain clans had essentially bet their lives and fortunes on Jon.