The Wall, which was originally cold, suddenly became hot, and along the way, the snow began to melt.
Faced with such a strange and sudden change in weather, along with the threat of the wights, Tywin Lannister could only choose to break camp and march forward.
Although he had an army of six thousand men, there were fewer than three hundred horses available for cavalry, and the rest were infantry.
Even the supplies that could be carried by horses were not many.
However, after the incident with the wildlings raiding the city, the Night's Watch men who had originally been willing to stay behind actually increased significantly, from just a few dozen stubborn men to over two hundred.
Whether it was due to the fear of the unknown of following Tywin Lannister's rebellion, or because the wildlings' arrival reminded them of their honor, these men ultimately chose to become members of the Night's Watch, standing firm on the frontlines of humanity.
Any member of the Night's Watch faces tough decisions, and everyone is the same in this regard.
So, for those who managed to change their minds, people like Benjen Stark and others were willing to welcome back these temporarily misguided brothers.
Although according to the rules of the Night's Watch, once an oath was sworn, no one could leave, and deserters would be sentenced to death, in such a special situation, Benjen Stark and the others naturally couldn't be so rigid or petty.
In the face of the enemies of humanity, those who had the courage to return and choose to stand back with the Watch were already strong enough.
Tywin Lannister did not make things difficult for them; on the contrary, he was pleased to see it happen.
Originally, he had thought that if there weren't enough people at Castle Black when he left, he would even force a few to stay behind to guard the place.
After all, after what had happened, he was rather uneasy about leaving his rear unprotected.
So, he took all the ravens with him, leaving behind ten horses and not many supplies, providing this remaining group of two hundred Night's Watch men with a little hope of survival and reserving their right to seek help from the kingdom.
After that, in order to ensure that the Night's Watch could regain leadership after Lord Commander Jeor Mormont's death, the election for the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was held immediately. The Night's Watch First Ranger, Benjen Stark, received the most support, for a total of 163 votes.
Qhorin Halfhand received 26 votes, but midway through the voting he gave up his right to run and cast his one vote for Benjen Stark.
Even Lord Commander Jeor Mormont's raven shouted Benjen Stark's name during the election.
Beyond any dispute, Benjen Stark became the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch after Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, the commander of Castle Black, and the overall commander of the order.
"I will report everything you have done to the King, Tywin Lannister. If you give up now, you still have a chance."
Before leaving, Benjen Stark delivered a final admonition to Tywin Lannister, in his capacity as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.
But Tywin Lannister merely sat on his horse and looked down at him.
"As far as I know, there is more than one man who now claims to be King on the Iron Throne—so who do you think is your King?"
Tywin Lannister asked Benjen Stark a question, using it to mock his admonition.
But Benjen Stark remained unmoved.
"Before his death, His Grace King Robert I of House Baratheon clearly named his heir. There is nothing to dispute. Naturally, I will seek help from him."
"That bastard?"
Tywin snorted coldly.
From the beginning to the present, everything House Lannister had encountered could be said to have had Kal-El's shadow behind it, so Tywin of course knew whom Benjen Stark meant.
"Let's hope that when the time comes, the one who responds to you is still him."
After saying that, Tywin suppressed the killing intent in his heart, turned around, and headed in the direction of Last Hearth.
...
After two days of travel, the Lannister army arrived at the designated location, in a forest that was still within the Gift, yet lay on the necessary route between Castle Black and Last Hearth.
On the opposite side of the forest where Tywin and the others were lying in ambush, there was precisely such an abandoned village.
If nothing unexpected happened, House Umber's cavalry would pass through here tonight to rest.
It had to be said that Tywin Lannister's luck was indeed very good: the very day he arrived in the forest, he captured a hunter who had come into the woods to hunt, preparing to store food for the winter.
From the man's mouth, Tywin learned that House Umber's cavalry were indeed coming in this direction.
So after sending out scouts to confirm whether the information was accurate, Tywin also began directing the army, making the final preparations.
This battle was especially crucial. He had to ensure that not a single person escaped in order to see a chance at victory.
So that unlucky hunter had already been buried in the forest by him.
In the tense atmosphere, the sky gradually darkened, and it was already close to the time when the sun would set in the west.
According to the scouts' report, that cavalry detachment from House Umber really would pass through here, so at this moment the several hundred infantry hidden in the forest were each making their own preparations, eager for the fight.
Before long, a cavalry column that was not moving particularly fast, holding high House Umber's banner—a roaring, brown-haired giant wearing beast pelts and holding a piece of broken silver chain on a fiery red field—entered Tywin Lannister's view.
Seeing them do exactly as he had expected—after a simple check of the abandoned village before them, preparing to settle down—Tywin restrained his impatience and waited until thin cooking smoke rose, and only then did he swing down his right hand.
Kevan Lannister, who had long been ready, drew the longsword at his waist, let out a loud shout, and charged out of the forest at speed.
At the same time, a long, drawn-out horn blast also sounded.
Kevan Lannister, who was lying in ambush in the forest, did not go to direct the cavalry.
He led two hundred infantry and, without hesitation, charged straight toward the abandoned village in front of them, no more than about a third of a league away.
And as the horn sounded, a string of hoofbeats also rang out from the end of the road—what remained of the Lannisters' two hundred cavalry were racing over from farther away at the fastest speed.
The infantry's charge was indeed not fast, but no matter how slow it was, they still moved as quickly as possible to block off every entrance and exit of the abandoned village.
The House Umber cavalry, who never would have imagined they were walking into an ambush, were completely panicked at this moment.
Because they were making camp as the sky grew late, they had only just taken off their armor, and they had also led their horses aside to feed them grain and fodder.
At this point, there were no more than five armored cavalrymen who had not removed their armor and were responsible for standing guard.
Looking at the armed force of at least several hundred men charging out of the forest before them, and hearing the thunder-like rumble of hooves in their ears, all they could do at this moment was find their own weapons.
Block off, encircle, slaughter.
Facing an unarmored cavalry detachment of only thirty men, Tywin Lannister used his full strength to crush them, not giving them even the slightest chance.
Even a lion fighting a rabbit uses its full strength.
The battle started quickly, and it ended quickly as well.
By the time Tywin Lannister strolled forward at an unhurried pace, the village was left with nothing but corpses lying in pools of blood. The cooking smoke still burned, and the air was filled with the mixed smell of food and blood.
Only after hearing the scouts he had sent out report again—confirming that within a range of five leagues around them there were no survivors besides themselves—did Tywin Lannister finally feel at ease.
Looking at the thirty corpses being dragged aside and dumped into an abandoned house, and at the not particularly large amount of spoils, Tywin's expression was indifferent, with no extra emotion on his face.
But at this moment, Kevan Lannister walked up from the side, with four men behind him carrying a large corpse.
Noticing Kevan's rather conspicuous actions, Tywin Lannister looked over in confusion.
Kevan, who had come up, did not waste words. He stepped aside, revealing the corpse behind him.
In a heavy, solemn tone, he said, "Tywin, it seems that one man in this detachment is the heir to Last Hearth. They told me this is 'Greatjon' Jon Umber's eldest son, 'Smalljon.'"
The "they" in Kevan's words were naturally the House Umber cavalrymen.
Hearing Kevan's words, Tywin also walked forward and lowered his head to look.
The corpse before him was a strong, sturdy warrior. Even lying down, he looked at least over seven feet tall.
He wore only simple cloth clothing. Two broken spears were lodged in his chest. His blood-soaked face stared with a pair of hollow eyes, refusing to close even in death.
"Roose Bolton's letter didn't tell us that House Umber's heir was in this detachment."
Seeing Tywin staring at the corpse in thought, Kevan made a pointed reminder.
Tywin, of course, understood what Kevan meant.
And looking at the corpse before him, he also understood why Roose Bolton had concealed this news.
So he withdrew his gaze, his expression cold and severe, and lifted his head to glance at the dark, bluish-purple sky as the sun set.
"This ghost summer doesn't know how long it will last. We must move faster," there was not the slightest ripple in his tone. "Rest for one night, advance at the fastest speed, and raid Last Hearth!"
...
The Dreadfort: an army was packing up here. Winterfell's acting castellan, Robb Stark, had called his bannermen in his father's name.
And because of distance, only House Bolton needed to bring troops to Winterfell at present.
The other two houses only needed to prepare their armies within their own lands, focusing on defense, and remain ready to receive orders at any time.
Likewise for precautionary reasons, Robb Stark specifically stated that House Bolton only needed to lead a small force over.
So Roose Bolton chose two thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry, for a total force of two thousand five hundred men.
This was not a small army.
Ramsay Snow stood at the gate of the Dreadfort, looking at these troops as he thought to himself, a faint, indistinct smile at the corner of his mouth.
His eyes were cold as frost.
At this moment, a man with eyes darker than milk yet lighter than rock, with a strange pair of eyes, pale-skinned, clean-shaven, and gentle and refined in appearance, came to his side.
"Ramsay, after I leave, manage the castle well for me. For the rest, you only need to obey my orders."
Lord Roose Bolton's voice was very light—so light that Ramsay had to quiet down and listen carefully with pricked ears to hear him clearly.
Hearing his words, Ramsay hurriedly lowered his head and replied in assent.
"Yes, Father."
Seeing that he had answered, Roose Bolton glanced warily at this bastard son he had brought back from outside, then nodded.
He then added another admonition: "Do what you should do, and don't make any unnecessary moves."
Roose Bolton knew very well what sort of temperament this bastard son of his had.
But the Dreadfort needed an heir now, and so did he.
Hearing his father's reminder, Ramsay smiled, then turned his head to look into the castle.
"Then what about our guest?"
Roose Bolton was of average build and not strong. He was clean-shaven, with smooth skin, an unremarkable face, and no visible trace of time.
Although he was already in his late forties, there were hardly any wrinkles to be seen on his face.
In response to Ramsay's question, his extremely thin lips pressed together, almost forming a straight line.
Only after those ice-like eyes of his shifted slightly did he speak flatly.
"When it is needed, I want him alive. But you must remember: before that, I do not need other people to know about him."
After saying this, Roose Bolton no longer had any interest in speaking. He did not need to make too many arrangements for Ramsay; he only needed to give him orders when needed.
So after saying this, Roose Bolton adjusted the cloak on his shoulder and turned to walk toward the group waiting for him ahead.
Ramsay Snow wore a smile as he watched Roose Bolton's back, the look in his eyes growing colder and colder.
"I remember that we seem to have never collected Lannister skin. It looks like now we have an opportunity."
At his feet, a hunting dog whined twice, then opened its mouth to reveal a set of sharp teeth.
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