Although Old York was merely a "witness," he was experiencing the joy of "nurturing a future king."
In the beginning, Jon only had him and Tommen by his side.
At most, a few junior officers from Winterfell.
Every time they held a meeting, the tent felt somewhat desolate.
But now it was different.
Jon's command tent was packed with people.
There were representatives from the mountain clans, as well as the noble knights Jon had saved during the Battle of the Green Fork.
When Jon entered, everyone stood up to bow.
Only when he reached the main seat did the others dare to sit.
Throughout this process, Sora's bright blue eyes never left Jon.
After taking his seat, Jon looked at Old York and asked:
"Is the armor Robb promised us ready?"
"It's ready, my Lord. The tribal warriors can be outfitted tomorrow."
As he spoke, Old York had one of his squires come in wearing Lannister armor to demonstrate.
Although it looked ordinary in the eyes of the knights and nobles, the tribal warriors expressed great satisfaction.
Now, the force under Jon's direct command was approaching three thousand five hundred men.
There wouldn't be many of the three thousand-plus sets of armor Robb sent left over.
"Lord Jon, are we going to war?"
Hakon had now accepted Jon's new identity.
As for the dragon eggs on the mountain... he belonged to Jon now, let alone those eggs he couldn't even touch.
He couldn't be bothered to think about them.
The clan elders were right; they had been driven into the mountains.
As long as Jon could find them a suitable plain to live on in the future, nothing else mattered.
"Yes, but not right now."
Jon showed everyone a topographical map of Darry and its surroundings.
Pointing at the map, Jon said to the group:
"I want to secretly set up some fortifications and traps here, here, and here, and lay an ambush with some men."
Although Jon's plan was somewhat complex, his excellent communication skills allowed these "officers," who barely had a rudimentary education, to understand.
Since he was certain The Mountain would attack Darry, Jon decided to lay an ambush.
The Mountain was Tywin's sharpest claw. Jon's goal was to kill him.
That way, if he had to fight a decisive battle against the Westerlands army in the future, he wouldn't have to worry about this "stat monster."
---
In the camp of the Westerlands army, the banners of various houses hung somewhat listlessly.
An atmosphere of anxiety permeated the entire camp.
Tywin had summoned them to seek justice for Tyrion, and invading the Riverlands was to punish Catelyn's unreasonable actions.
The soldiers, of course, didn't care about that.
They were having a grand time pillaging the Riverlands.
But recently, things felt wrong.
They had heard Jaime was captured, and the Northern army blocking them was as solid as a rock.
Their momentum of invincibility had been abruptly halted.
Then came the news that Robb, Renly, and Stannis had all declared themselves kings.
Although Stannis on Dragonstone could be ignored for now...
Renly had allied with Highgarden and was approaching with an army of a hundred thousand.
Everyone felt uneasy.
Many even harbored thoughts of returning to the Westerlands.
To the west of the Westerlands lay the Sunset Sea; to the east was the weak Riverlands; to the south lay the Reach army, known for being poor fighters.
As long as they guarded the Golden Tooth, the gateway to the West, they could rest easy.
Just as the soldiers were longing for home, a massive figure strode through the camp.
Everyone knew who it was: Tywin's sharpest spear—The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane!
Tywin summoning him meant orders were being given.
Unfortunately, The Mountain only liked fighting people, not talking to them. So no one dared go up and ask; they could only watch him head toward his own camp.
Some Westerlands lords took the opportunity to send men to observe The Mountain's movements.
If Tywin attacked the Riverlands to punish Catelyn, and the others did it to fulfill their feudal obligations, then The Mountain purely enjoyed the process.
He loved killing too much!
Ordinary people killed when they were unhappy; The Mountain was unhappy if he didn't kill!
And Tywin seemed to favor this sharp and "cruel" sword.
The vanguard force harassing the Riverlands had been led by The Mountain.
The entire Westerlands army's attention was focused on Tywin's massive tent.
The Mountain soon left Tywin's presence. Shortly after, the lords learned of his movements: The Mountain had left with five hundred heavy armored troops and three hundred retainers!
"He actually sent out the heavy armored troops! What is Lord Tywin planning?"
"It must be a very important plan. The Mountain and his heavy troops are Lord Tywin's treasures. Those five hundred men are worth more on the battlefield than five thousand ordinary soldiers."
Heavy armored cavalry were the tanks of this era.
Unless dragons returned to life, their charge was unstoppable.
Of course, Jon's flood attack that day was a special case; most people wouldn't factor that into standard tactical considerations.
The Mountain quickly left Tywin's main force. Everyone hoped they would bring back an inspiring victory.
As soon as The Mountain returned to his own camp, the soldiers clearly felt the air tighten.
Those chatting shut up immediately.
Those sparring or sharpening weapons stopped at once.
The tension felt like phlegm stuck in everyone's throat—unable to be swallowed or coughed up.
Even the air felt irritable.
The Mountain's camp was the quietest in the entire Westerlands army.
Especially when he was present, the soldiers would even tread lightly.
The Mountain disliked noise. He once killed a squire simply because the boy's snoring woke him up.
The Mountain ordered his officers to assemble.
His pimply-faced squire immediately brought him a cup of milk of the poppy upon his arrival.
What others didn't know was that The Mountain suffered from severe headaches.
Noise made his headaches worse.
But killing and fighting relieved them.
This guy literally "felt bad if he didn't kill"!
If he wasn't killing, he had to rely on milk of the poppy for pain relief.
The Mountain downed the milk of the poppy in one gulp, then addressed the group:
"Order the heavy armored troops to prepare to attack Darry! Darry and Stone Hedge must be in our hands!"
"Yes, my Lord."
With The Mountain's order, the entire camp mobilized.
Everyone was terrified of him.
Not just because of the squire who lost his life for snoring.
His castle was also terrifying.
Maids frequently died there for unexplained reasons.
The Mountain looked north. He already knew who had unleashed the flood on him that day.
Eddard Stark's bastard.
That day, he and his heavy armored troops should have been the war hammer that sealed the victory, but instead, they got a face full of mud thanks to Jon.
He had repeatedly asked Tywin for a chance to face Jon in direct combat.
But he also knew his side's situation wasn't great.
The Mountain only hoped that while supporting and attacking these two castles, Jon would appear. Only with Jon's blood could he vent his rage.
Two men with old grudges were now sharpening their blades.