After hearing the whole story from beginning to end, Linde asked with some confusion, "Why did the people standing on House Tyrell's side lose so easily? Didn't you say they'd been locked in a stalemate for decades? By all logic, their strength should've been about the same."
"It's all because of the War of the Usurper," Old Man Bane sighed. "House Tyrell supported the Dragonlords and sent troops into the war. The Crane family also sent men—those were all Cranes who supported House Tyrell. In the end, many of them died at the Battle of Ashford. Only a handful survived, people like Fortimo Crane. Because they feared retaliation from the other faction within the family, they all stayed in Highgarden after the war and never returned to Red Lake City."
"Then what about Smiling Will?" Linde asked, puzzled.
"He's an idiot!" Old Man Bane cursed angrily. "The internal struggle of House Crane had nothing to do with him in the first place. All he had to do was be a proper captain of the guard. But who knows whose poison words he listened to—he actually seized Lady Lianna and Miss Menedys and defected to that faction. No matter how fierce the infighting within House Crane was, it was still only a struggle for power. It had never risen to the level of bloodline slaughter. What Will did crossed a taboo. It was only natural that he got caught."
Linde asked with concern, "Did you get dragged into this because of Will?"
Old Man Bane reassured him, "Don't worry about me. To them, I'm just an insignificant nobody. If they truly thought I was a threat, the one who came here wouldn't have been that arrogant little brat Klo."
Linde said worriedly, "But things are different now. I killed six guards from Red Lake City. They might—"
"No, that's actually a good thing," Old Man Bane said with a smile. "To the current House Crane, someone with sword skills like yours is worth far more than six ordinary guards."
"Why?" Linde didn't quite understand.
Old Man Bane explained, "Not long ago, Red Lake City agreed to join forces with House Rowan and House Oakheart to clear out the bandits in the Red Lake Forest. But because House Crane suffered such heavy losses during the War of the Usurper, they can only gather a force of a little over two hundred men at most. And before picking up weapons, those men were all farmers—raw recruits with no real combat ability. They need capable fighters to join them. That's why I told you to go all out just now. I just didn't expect you to be that strong when you did. Still, that only makes things better. I imagine someone has already passed your news on to Jory Flowers."
"Jory Flowers? I think I've heard that name in the tavern," Linde recalled. "Is he that Cold Jory?"
"That's right." Old Man Bane nodded. "Lord Jory Flowers is the bastard son of Ser Beran Crane. He's also one of the few people among the Cranes who support House Florent and actually know how to command troops. He once took part in the tourney at King's Landing. Although he lost to Ser Barristan the Bold, he was highly praised by Ser Barristan himself, who even invited him to join the Mad King's Kingsguard—but Jory refused. Within House Crane, he's a swordmaster on par with Lord Fortimo, and he greatly admires those with exceptional swordsmanship. This time, he's serving as the commander of those two hundred men. Now that you've shown such skill, he'll definitely send someone to recruit you."
"So someone among the onlookers just now was working for Lord Jory?" Linde asked.
"Yes," Old Man Bane confirmed. "It was probably because your reputation as the Bear Hunter and a dual-wielding swordmaster reached his ears that he sent someone to verify it. To be honest, even if that idiot Klo hadn't shown up, I would've arranged for someone to spar with you so you could display your swordsmanship. But this way, the effect was even better."
"Isn't he worried about offending the other faction of House Crane?" Linde asked.
"He's a well-known neutral within House Crane," Old Man Bane analyzed seriously. "He only swears loyalty to the Lord of Red Lake City. As for who becomes lord, he doesn't care. That's why anyone who controls Red Lake City knows he'll never betray them, and they all make a point of staying on good terms with him. No one dares offend him lightly."
He sighed again. "To be honest, the reason I went looking for Will in the first place was because of him. From the start, I guessed Jory would be the one leading the bandit-clearing force. But I had no dealings with him and no connection at all—I couldn't approach him directly. Will was the one Jory recommended to become captain of the guard, so the two had some ties. Recommending someone shouldn't have been a problem. That's why I went to Will. Looks like all my earlier efforts were wasted."
"So what should I do now?" Linde asked.
Old Man Bane advised, "Nothing at all. Just stay here for the next few days. Lord Jory should send someone to find you."
Linde nodded, agreeing, then asked, "Old Man, is my sword finished?"
"It's already done. I was planning to give it to you as soon as you came, but things happened so suddenly that I forgot to bring it out. Fortunately, you're just as deadly barehanded as you are with a sword."
Old Man Bane gestured for Linde to follow him. The two went one after the other into a building in the back courtyard. Old Man Bane entered a small room alone and soon came back out, now holding two longswords.
Handing them to Linde, he said, "I forged these hand-and-a-half swords according to your requirements. I widened and thickened the blades—they look more like elongated broadswords now. That fits the name 'bastard sword' well enough."
Linde took the two broad-bladed hand-and-a-half swords, drew them from their scabbards, and rolled his wrists and arms, giving them a few test swings. Weight-wise, they were a bit heavier than he'd expected, but it didn't affect him much.
Next, he tested the sharpness of the blades and the toughness of the material. They were far superior to the Red Lake City guards' longswords he'd used earlier, but still far inferior to the weapons wielded by the Peacemaker in his memories. In terms of quality, they could only be considered slightly above average.
Still, considering that the two swords had cost only five Gold Dragons, they were more than worth it. Old Man Bane must have called in a few favors as well.
Over the next two days, Linde stayed in the back courtyard of Old Man Bane's tavern, familiarizing himself with his new weapons. Although the Peacemaker's dual-wielding combat experience was better suited to a long-and-short weapon setup, that was only in a game. In reality, on an actual battlefield, charging in with a short sword was basically suicide. What he needed to do now was slightly adjust the Peacemaker's combat experience and integrate it into his own.
During this time, Linde never lacked sparring partners. The caravan mercenaries in the tavern were more than happy to train with him, because during every session, Linde would point out the problems they encountered in combat, teach them coordination techniques, and even pass on certain sword techniques that were usually only taught among the nobility.
Unknowingly, this earned Linde even greater respect among the mercenaries. And as their caravans departed, all kinds of stories about Linde spread along with them, gradually building his reputation throughout the Reach.
Klo Crane's retaliation never came. On the third day, however, Red Lake City sent a squad of twelve men to White Village to retrieve the bodies of the six soldiers and the equipment on them.
No conflict occurred during the process. Instead, the squad's captain met Linde and even sparred with him. The result was predictable—the captain had clearly received some formal sword training and could deal with ordinary soldiers, but under Linde's hand, he lasted only two moves before his sword was knocked away. If they'd been using real weapons, that captain's arm would already have been severed.
Despite his defeat, the captain wasn't angry. On the contrary, he greatly admired Linde. When leaving, he even hinted that Red Lake City wouldn't pursue the matter of Linde killing the six soldiers—but Linde would still have to pay some price. What that price was, however, remained unspoken.
It wasn't until the sixth day that the calm of White Village was broken by the arrival of a troop.
The force numbered around a hundred men, all fully armed. Every one of them wore full leather armor and carried a spear and a longsword; some even had bows slung over their backs. They looked like a properly equipped fighting force.
Leading them were seven knights. Six of the knights were dressed differently, but all wore metal plate armor bearing different sigils—clearly knights from noble houses subordinate to House Crane.
The knight at the front, however, was noticeably taller and more powerfully built than the other six. Combined with the massive warhorse beneath him, even without sitting fully upright, he still stood a full head taller than the rest, giving him an oppressive presence none of the others could match.
The plate armor he wore was also different. Judging from its style, it carried an ancient lineage, and upon it was emblazoned the green hand sigil of House Gardener.
In contrast to the ancient armor, the knight's helmet was strikingly modern in design, shaped like the firetail cock native to the Red Lake Forest—a fiercely aggressive creature that would fight fearlessly even against powerful beasts to protect its territory and young. Perhaps the knight chose such a helmet to reflect his own temperament.
The troop halted in front of Old Man Bane's tavern. By then, Old Man Bane and Linde had already come out upon hearing the noise, and quite a few villagers had gathered to watch.
Once Old Man Bane clearly saw the leading knight, he immediately stepped forward and saluted. "Lord Jory."
Jory Flowers tightened the reins, steadying his mount, then looked down at Old Man Bane and said, "Spear-Bane. Even now, I still remember the sight of you leading your men and punching straight through the enemy lines back then. A man like you belongs on the battlefield, not in some rural tavern."
"Not everyone shares your ambitions, my lord," Old Man Bane replied with a smile. "Compared to dying on the battlefield with no one even bothering to collect my body, I prefer to drink myself senseless and die in my sleep in my own bed."
At his words, the knights behind Jory Flowers all showed disdainful expressions. Jory Flowers himself, however, showed no reaction at all. His gaze shifted to Linde. After sizing him up, he asked, "You're the Bear Hunter?"
"Yes, my lord." Linde nodded slightly.
From the moment Jory Flowers appeared, Linde had been measuring their relative strength.
Over the past few days, he had defeated many opponents and dispatched six Red Lake City guards in a flashy manner. But those people couldn't represent the true strength of this world's warriors. Most of them were just farmers who had picked up weapons; a few had learned some swordsmanship, but not much. They belonged to the very bottom tier of this world's combat power.
The Jory Flowers before him, however, was a true representative of the upper echelons of this world's strength. A swordmaster admired by Barristan the Bold—just that alone spoke volumes about his ability. In the Reach, there were very few who could defeat him one-on-one.
This stirred in Linde a powerful urge to challenge him and test his true strength. But he knew very clearly that now was absolutely not the right time to challenge Jory, so he forcibly suppressed that impulse.
Even so, Jory still keenly sensed the faint trace of battle intent emanating from Linde and asked bluntly, "Do you wish to challenge me?"
"Yes, my lord." Linde nodded again.
Before Jory could speak, a knight's squire behind him shouted angrily, "How dare you, you lowly wretch! What right do you have to challenge Lord Jory?!"
"Lowly?" Jory turned around and looked at the indignant squire. "Is there anything lower than a bastard?"
The squire froze, realizing he had struck a nerve, and hurriedly explained, "My lord, I didn't mean you!"
Jory stared at him and said in a deep voice, "Forget it. I know you didn't do it on purpose. But there's one thing you must remember. Since you've become my squire, don't cling to notions of noble or lowly. In this world, the only thing that will let you survive—and help you win glory—is the sword in your hand, not the blood in your veins, nor the status that blood represents."
"I understand, my lord," the squire said softly, lowering his head.
Jory shook his head slightly. He didn't believe this highborn squire truly understood his meaning, but he had no intention of explaining further. Turning back to Linde, he said, "I've already taken care of your trouble with Red Lake City. From now on, you must join my army. Once you've accumulated enough merit on the battlefield, I'll recommend you to Lord Fortimo as a knight's squire."
"At your command, my lord," Linde replied without hesitation.