Two days passed, and the village was unusually quiet.
The soldiers in the fortifications stared at the distant village, no longer tense.
There was no sound in the village except for the chirping of birds.
At night, no fires could be seen in the village, nor could any sounds be heard, as if the Burning Men Tribe wildlings had vanished into thin air.
In fact, it had already been very quiet on the second day, but Arthur's cautious nature made him wait until the third day. And he couldn't wait any longer.
He called Lucien and Hakon over.
He told Lucien and Hakon what had happened.
Arthur turned and looked at Lucien and Hakon, speaking in a low voice:
"Do you know why?"
"I had you soak the arrowheads and spear tips in diluted feces, and I even poured syrup into it."
To ensure it worked, Arthur threw every piece of filth he could find into the mixture and stirred it.
As a result, every soldier responsible for stirring vomited for three days and three nights, unable to drink or eat anything.
The soldiers responsible for stirring it said they would rather fight the wildlings hand-to-hand.
Lucien and Hakon had no idea why Arthur had soaked this concoction, which had tormented countless soldiers.
Now they knew...
Arthur looked at them and slowly began to speak, as if a demon whispering:
"If you are stabbed or shot with that stuff, the wounds will be hard to heal; they will only fester, cause fever, and eventually rot."
"As long as you are wounded or shot by that stuff, even if it's just a superficial wound, it's enough to make life worse than death."
"And the primitive healing methods of the High Mountain Clan wildlings will only make this problem worse."
Lucien and Hakon listened, their faces somewhat pale, "My Arthur!"
"By the Seven Gods! Please do not punish my Arthur! If you must punish, punish me!"
"Now, they likely can't hold on any longer!" Arthur whispered to them. "Didn't you want to fight? Here's your chance!"
Lucien and Hakon listened to Arthur's demon-like whispering tone:.........
They were now a little afraid when Arthur spoke in that tone.
Arthur looked at the frightened expressions of Lucien and Hakon.
He coughed twice, returning to his normal tone, and calmly said:
"Go assemble the troops!"
Lucien and Hakon exchanged glances, their eyes filled with excitement and eagerness. They had been squatting in the fortifications for three days and had long wanted a good fight!
"Yes, Suleiman!" Lucien responded, his expression steady, and he turned and quickly departed.
Hakon, with an excited expression, also ran out after him.
Soon, three hundred soldiers assembled at the fortifications.
Arthur looked at them.
He sighed inwardly, no wonder everyone liked to see neat and uniform formations.
Seeing his own troops in perfect formation indeed filled him with a sense of beauty and accomplishment.
They wore unified cloth light armor, holding long spears, long swords, and hunting shortbows, their ranks neat and orderly, heads held high, and eyes sharp.
Seeing their gaze turn to him on the high slope.
Arthur took two steps forward, his left hand on the hilt of his sword, his right hand pointing at them.
"My soldiers!" His voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear before the disciplined, silent ranks.
"Two days ago! You blocked the charge of the Burning Men Tribe wildlings here!"
"With the weapons in your hands! You proved your courage!"
"Do you see!"
"The wildlings haven't appeared for two days!"
"They are afraid of you! They fear you!"
"They no longer dare to face us directly! Hiding in that village, barely surviving like wounded prey!"
"And we are the hunters!"
Arthur did not intend to tell his soldiers.
The Burning Men Tribe wildlings hadn't appeared because they had been.
Stabbed and shot by their spears and arrows, leading to illness and making their lives worse than death.
He needed this battle to end.
To make these soldiers believe that they had defeated the Burning Men Tribe wildlings head-on.
Only in this way could the fear of the High Mountain Clan wildlings be completely dispelled from this army; overall confidence was very necessary!
Arthur paused, watching these conscripted soldiers proudly lift their heads.
It was time for the next step. Arthur felt like an elementary school teacher, patiently guiding his students to study hard and improve every day.
He said in a seductive tone, "How many villages have these Burning Men Tribe wildlings plundered, and how much grain, livestock, and valuables have they stolen from the mountains?"
"Now, they are not far from here, in that village, with the things they stole!"
He drew his longsword, pointed it at the distant village, and shouted, "Gold! Silver! Grain! Cloth! Everything! All of it!"
"Those things! The valuable things! They are all there!"
Arthur looked at his conscripted soldiers, watching their emotions being stirred.
They revealed eyes like wolves and tigers, as if they wanted to devour people.
He sighed inwardly, indeed, a person's talent can only be discovered when they encounter the corresponding situation.
Some people never discover their abilities throughout their lives.
He actually possessed this ability to stir emotions.
Arthur's voice suddenly rose, and he shouted loudly:
"By the Seven Gods! My promise to you will not change!"
"Now! It's time to get what belongs to us!
"Kill them all! Plunder them all!"
"Let's get! ----- Rich!"
The soldiers' breathing became heavy and rapid, their eyes becoming greedy and fervent.
Arthur's promise: he only wanted half, and the remaining spoils would be distributed equally among everyone according to their military merits!
They didn't need Arthur to say anything else; this promise was more substantial than any empty slogan!
A soaring battle cry rang out among the ranks, and the soldiers' blood boiled!
Everyone's eyes were bloodshot; desire, greed, and bloodlust ignited their primal savagery.
Kill the wildlings! We're going to get rich!
The crowd roared madly.
"Kill them all!"
"Plunder them all!"
"Kill them all!"
"Plunder them all!"
At this moment, they were the hunters! And the Burning Men Tribe wildlings were the prey!
Arthur looked at these people; for no other reason, they had been poor for too long, and they were terrified of poverty.
If there were wildlings present, they would probably be bewildered by this scene, thinking, 'These Plainsmen, they're using all my words.'
Arthur thought so.
He sheathed his Myrish longsword, took another step forward, extended his right hand, and raised it high, signaling for silence:
"Do you still remember that strong wildling from that day?"
Negos Son Walker, Arthur judged from the battlefield at the time that he should be the leader of this wildling group.
Although High Mountain Clan wildlings have no classes, they obey the strongest, fiercest, and most capable fighter.
The soldiers looked at him, and it was clear that they all had a deep impression of the nearly two-meter tall strongman in that wildling group.
Arthur pointed his hand at them and slowly said, "Whoever gets his head! Your share will be twenty silver stags!"
"For each limb! Your share will be an additional five silver stags!"
The soldiers were completely stirred up! Three silver stags was a family's harvest for a year!
If they could get all four limbs, that would be forty silver stags!
But it wasn't over yet! Arthur wagged his finger at them! There was more to say!
They looked at Arthur.
"His head! I'll pay another twenty silver stags from my share!"
"For each limb! I'll pay another five silver stags from my share!"
The soldiers were shocked, silent, utterly silent.
"I want his head!"
The silence was completely shattered by this sentence from the ranks.
A total bounty of eighty silver stags! Just for the head, it was forty silver stags! This temptation had surpassed the fear of death!
The soldiers went completely mad!
Tommen lowered his head and gripped the long spear in his hand! His whole body trembled! Eighty silver stags!