Because of the Battle of the Green Fork, the Northern army hadn't suffered the disastrous defeat and losses they did in the original timeline.
Consequently, Roose Bolton hadn't retreated all the way to the Twins. Instead, he stationed his troops near the riverbanks, using the river as a defensive line to pin down Tywin.
On the banks of the Green Fork, Roose Bolton was conversing with several Riverlands nobles.
Among them were two young men and a boy not yet ten years old.
The boy was Lyman Darry, who had excitedly shouted during the "Crowning of the King in the North" that day.
He was now the only remaining male heir of House Darry.
As for the two young men, they were his bastard cousins.
The one talking to Roose Bolton was named Martyn Rivers.
The other one accompanying them was named Munda Rivers.
Just as "Snow" was the surname for Northern bastards, "Rivers" was the surname for Riverlands bastards.
Although they were both bastards, neither had any intention of usurping little Lyman's inheritance.
They only wanted to reclaim Darry as soon as possible!
Lyman's father was Earl Raymun, who had treated these two nephews as his own.
But he had died at the hands of The Mountain.
The Mountain was simply too terrifying. Neither Martyn nor Munda dared to think about killing The Mountain to avenge Raymun.
At least, they didn't dare to think they could do it on their own.
They only wanted to retake Darry quickly to repay Raymun for raising them.
In such a conversation, little Lyman couldn't get a word in.
He could only entrust the fate of his House to his two cousins.
"Lady Catelyn should be meeting with Renly soon. If the alliance is formed, Tywin will face immense pressure from the South. Even now, he's about to be trapped in a two-front war. So, my Lord, I beg you to cooperate with us to reclaim Darry. House Darry will forever be your truest friend."
Martyn looked at Roose Bolton sincerely, while Munda winked at little Lyman.
"Lord Bolton, please help us," little Lyman pleaded, though his tone and expression were stiff and childish.
This was the first time Roose Bolton had received such respect from other nobles, and he felt a bit lightheaded with pride.
Actually, he also felt Martyn had a point. Tywin should be at his most panicked right now.
To the north, he was being hammered by the combined forces of the North and Riverlands.
To the south, the armies of Highgarden and the Stormlands were steadily advancing.
The reaper's scythe was already raised high. The Westerlands had nowhere to hide!
"Alright. We'll scout the situation at Darry first, and then..."
Before Roose Bolton could finish, a squire rushed over in a panic:
"My Lord, there's an army approaching from the east!"
"An army! Is it the enemy?"
Hearing there might be a fight, Lyman Darry, barely reaching an adult's chest, asked excitedly.
He looked at his two cousins, but they signaled him not to ask blindly.
Lyman looked at Roose Bolton again, but naturally, Roose ignored the brat.
"Unclear. Our scouts are still investigating."
"How is their formation?"
"Very orderly! They look like elites!"
"Order the whole army to stand ready!"
"Yes, my Lord!"
The squire hurried away. Martyn asked:
"Lord Bolton, from the east? Could the Vale be joining the war?"
"The Vale?"
Roose Bolton frowned in thought, considering it possible.
King's Landing and the Crownlands were in peril, and Tywin was to their south.
If an army appeared from the east, it seemed likely to be the Vale's forces.
Roose Bolton didn't believe Jon could raise an army from the mountain clans in such a short time.
Even if he could, given the discipline of those wildlings, they definitely couldn't march in orderly formation.
As an experienced lord, he knew how to judge an army's combat effectiveness by its march.
Martyn and Munda exchanged glances, seeing excitement in each other's eyes.
If the Vale's army really joined, their chances of retaking their castle would increase significantly.
Meanwhile, Jon and his army had already spotted the distant Northern camp.
"Jon, h-how many people are there?"
Sora, dressed as a man, asked in amazement.
Perhaps knowing his daughter wouldn't stay, Victor had given Sora his best bow and let her leave with Jon.
"Hmm, about twenty thousand or so."
"Twenty thousand?"
Asking Sora to comprehend what twenty thousand people looked like was clearly too much for her.
Although Hakon didn't ask a similar question, his stunned gaze and jaw dropping to the ground betrayed his true feelings.
He thought the army of two thousand behind him was already majestic enough.
But the massive camp before him gave off a dangerous aura.
That feeling was stronger than any dark cave or perilous pool had ever given him.
If Hakon and Sora were like this, the tribal warriors were even worse.
Their tribal territories weren't even as big as this camp.
Where had these people ever seen a camp stretching for miles, endless at a glance?
And what shocked them even more was that this army "occupied" an entire river!
Water was a crucial resource everywhere.
The blood shed between clans over water sources was as much as the water they fought for.
Rumors they heard said that when outsiders fought a battle, an entire tribe's worth of people would die!
Some subconsciously thought the "outsiders" fought over water.
Otherwise, why kill so many people?
Thinking they were about to participate in such a terrible war, many were nervous.
Jon naturally wouldn't allow them to show fear.
The enemies he faced weren't just the Lannisters; there were people eyeing him hungrily within the Northern army too.
As his strength grew, Jon had to look sharp. He couldn't lose face!
He turned to the elected tribal officers and said:
"Everyone get ready to sing the 'Song of Unity' I taught you!"
"Yes, my Lord!"
Along the way, besides training them in marching commands, "army culture building" was essential.
Considering the grudges between various tribes, "Unity Is Strength" was the first song Jon taught them.
Additionally, they had learned powerful military songs like "March Forward" and "Our Tribe Marches Towards the Sun."
The clans' outstanding "artistic cells" surprised Jon.
"This strength is iron! This strength is steel!"
"..."
"March on! March on! March on!!!"
Soon, a somewhat off-key but powerful military song drifted toward the entire Northern camp.
Harrion Karstark, who was hacking at a dummy labeled "Gregor," turned to look east.
Lord Cerwyn, still calculating supplies, was also drawn to the sound.
When they learned Jon had returned, they put down their work and hurried to the edge of the camp.