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"Go in and check the infected. If any are still alive, deal with them. Protect yourselves and be careful of infection."
Forcing down his turmoil, Crey turned and ordered the prisoner soldiers whose faces held both fear and amazement.
"Yes, Lord Crey."
The prisoner soldiers nodded and answered. Then they went around the giant ice statue from a distance and carefully moved toward the high-risk zone.
They had seen with their own eyes how those comrades had died. No amount of caution around that beautiful but deadly ice-crystal lotus bud was excessive.
"You, go notify King Theon, Lord Rickard, Prince Oberyn's guards, Lady Margaery... No, do not notify Prince Oberyn or Lady Margaery yet.
"Go."
After the prisoner soldiers entered, Crey turned to the guards beside him and gave orders. After a moment of thought, he told them to notify only the two nobles he trusted more.
The guards left quickly. Crey remained alone, his expression shifting constantly as he silently prayed that Robb would be unharmed.
After all, magical power had existed only in legend for centuries. Under the Citadel's influence, the mainstream image of magic in Westeros was evil, strange, unstable, and liable to devour its master.
The northern army now held an absolute advantage, but if something truly happened to Robb, House Tyrell and House Martell, which had newly joined him, might waver again. King Theon, whose control over his own forces was difficult, was also hard to predict.
In the end, perhaps only the nobles of the North and the Riverlands would remain loyal to House Stark.
"Hiss. Margaery Tyrell's two royal husbands died strangely one after another. Now His Grace has suffered this accident as well. Did House Tyrell deliberately submit in order to harm him?"
As Crey thought, his mind even began wandering toward Margaery's ominous history with husbands.
Fortunately, Theon and Lord Rickard arrived together not long afterward and interrupted his wild thoughts.
After the three discussed the matter carefully, they knew it could not be concealed. They decided to proclaim openly that Robb was a god of ice descended into the world and was now beginning to recover his divine power.
Their reasoning was simple. As Robb's powerful ice magic grew more and more visible, his title Ice King had already spread among more people.
Now Highgarden had a grey plague outbreak, and King Robb had suddenly suffered an accident. By loudly spreading this explanation, they could at least make people and forces with ill intent hesitate for a short time.
Then they would maintain normal order in the early stage, and the epidemic would continue to be handled according to the previous method. At the same time, they would make private preparations.
If an accident truly happened to Robb, they would take the army and all wealth and supplies back to Partridge Hall, then hold the Westerlands, Riverlands, and North.
Once they settled the response, Crey and the others notified House Tyrell and House Martell. They also sent people to quietly begin shaping opinion in the refugee encampment.
Northeast of the crossroads, on the high road to the Vale.
Salt Hill Village lay north of Saltpans. It was the last village where travelers could rest when going from the crossroads toward the Vale. Because of its good location, the nearly one hundred households of Salt Hill lived fairly decent lives.
But in a time of war, misfortune could descend at any moment.
Screams sounded again and again through peaceful Salt Hill Village.
More than a thousand uprising deserters in ragged clothes and carrying weapons were fighting the local militiamen responsible for protecting the village.
Most of the deserters were thin and weak, and their fighting ability was poor. One village militiaman could take down several of them. But against only a few dozen militiamen, the deserters used their numbers to drown them.
After the militiamen died, Salt Hill Village suffered slaughter and rape.
Arrows hissed.
Seven or eight disheveled deserters were gathered around a poor village woman. A moment later, two or three arrows struck each of them, and they fell heavily in a flow of blood.
"Enemies to the east!"
The sudden attack made the other deserters nearby shout warnings.
Inside the village, deserters who were devouring food or pulling up their breeches grabbed their weapons and looked toward the east.
"Charge! Kill them and take everything!"
"Do not steal the ears. They are mine!"
"Anyone who takes my trophies dies!"
Suddenly, a burst of shouts like a quarrel rose. A strange group of soldiers, also numbering more than a thousand, appeared in their sight.
These soldiers wore clothing made from animal hides, helmets made from animal skulls, and carried battered weapons.
They shoved and cursed at one another as they charged the deserters. In the blink of an eye, the two sides collided.
At first contact, the deserters in the front were slaughtered one-sidedly, with no ability to resist.
Seeing this, the deserters behind immediately turned and ran, showing exactly what they were: brave only against the helpless.
Urgent hoofbeats came from the east. More than a thousand riders wearing armor bearing the Twins and black caps charged straight at the fleeing men.
The battle in Salt Hill Village ended quickly. Most of the thousand-plus deserters did not even manage to beg for mercy before they were killed cleanly. Only three hundred or so were left kneeling in surrender.
Of the several hundred villagers who had lived in Salt Hill, only a few dozen survived.
After the battle, the strange soldiers either cut ears from the corpses or seized useful items from the village.
Before long, Tyrion rode into Salt Hill on a tall horse, cold-faced, with a group of clan chiefs and captains behind him. Behind them came nearly two thousand more strange soldiers.
"No house sigils at all? Lord Stevron, please take these prisoners and question them carefully."
Riding up before the kneeling uprising soldiers, Tyrion looked them over and turned to Stevron Frey behind him.
Before Stevron could answer, a fierce, murderous man beside him spoke at once.
"Halfman, the things in this village and these prisoners are our trophies. You cannot take them as you please."
"Shagga, everything in this village belongs to you. Leave the prisoners and the villagers to me. When we reach King's Landing, I will give you an equal number of weapons."
Looking at Shagga, chief of the Stone Crows of the mountain clans, Tyrion answered grandly.
"Good. The weapons must be new. Old ones do not count."
"Hey, Shagga, those weapons are not only for the Stone Crows. We Black Ears want our share too."
"The Burned Men as well."
"The Moon Brothers..."
After Shagga agreed to Tyrion's terms, the other mountain clan chiefs beside him also spoke up, each wanting a share.
Since every mountain clan had participated, Shagga naturally could not take a payment that did not yet exist for himself. Soon they were arguing again over who had killed more enemies and should receive more loot.
"My dear lord, your situation is very dangerous.
"If I remember correctly, the weapons and armor you now owe all the mountain clans would be enough to arm a three-thousand-man army to the teeth.
"If you cannot pay when the time comes, they might eat your corpse."
Listening to the mountain clans' habitual arguing, Bronn, black-haired and black-eyed, rode to Tyrion's side and kindly reminded him in a low voice.
"Ha. Thank you for that reminder, filled as it is with kindness. Have I not spent the past half year in danger?
"Do not worry. Even if they eat me, I will pay the reward I promised you before that."
Tyrion was clever enough to understand Bronn's meaning. He answered in a joking tone, but his words were sincere.
Indeed, during the past half year in the Vale, Tyrion had been walking a tightrope.
With not a single soldier truly loyal to him, he had been forced to feign cooperation with Littlefinger while also dealing with Stevron's constant demands that he help recover the Twins.
In the end, after discovering Littlefinger's secret and being framed by him, he had still used his tongue to bring every mountain clan of the Mountains of the Moon to his side.
Even Tyrion himself did not know how he had done all of it.
When the corner of his eye caught sight of dozens of naked village women shivering nearby, he was slightly moved and continued to Bronn.
"Give them some clothes and food. Then ask if they are willing to come with us to King's Landing."
"Understood. Being merciful again, my dear lord."
Hearing the sincerity in Tyrion's earlier words, Bronn's mouth tugged into a smile, and he answered teasingly.
"Merciful again? Tch. I think everything I did in the Vale was rather cruel."
Tyrion made an exaggerated expression of recollection.
"Those two old men Littlefinger was going to flay alive. Was it not you who told me to save them?"
"That was not mercy. According to my judgment, both of them had important value."
"Value? Ah, yes. I once heard that wine steeped with a strong old man's manhood can restore a man's vigor.
"It seems the whores of the Vale have drained you dry."
"Drained me? Ha ha. Although I prefer beauties, I would not mind making an exception and letting you try."
Amid the mountain clans' arguing and Tyrion and Bronn's mutual mockery, the clan soldiers quickly gathered the spoils of Salt Hill Village.
Stevron also easily obtained from the deserters the relevant information about what had recently happened.
After digesting that information, Tyrion led this army of more than four thousand away from Salt Hill and toward the crossroads.
Along the way, Tyrion's army saw little but ruins and corpses. In the end, even the once-bustling inn at the crossroads had become broken and filthy, full of rotting bodies.
After that, as they marched south along the kingsroad, they not only saw the plain where the Brotherhood uprising army and the allied army had fought, covered with bodies.
They also saw many crownlands towns left in ruined walls and broken beams after being ravaged by large numbers of uprising deserters fleeing south.
King's Landing, the Red Keep.
Cersei wore a deep green velvet gown with a low neckline. Her thick golden hair fell over her smooth shoulders. With two Lannister guards behind her, she walked along the first-floor corridor of Maegor's Holdfast, her face full of irritation.
She had just returned from the White Sword Tower and the Kingsguard's chambers and was on her way back to her own rooms.
For some reason, Lancel had not come to her bed for many days, so she had gone to look at him herself.
Only for the useless man to tell her he could no longer rise at all.
After Cersei personally checked and confirmed it, she simply ignored that waste and left the White Sword Tower.
'Should I change my tastes?'
Cersei maintained a dignified stride while her mind considered new targets whose faces suited her taste and who might bring her pleasure.
There was nothing else for it. As queen regent, she had once been full of ambition to govern King's Landing well. But after her father returned to the city, Tywin, with his intense desire for control, seized all power into his own hands.
For the current Cersei, only bedmates who suited her and good wine could slightly ease the bitterness in her heart.
As Cersei and the two guards turned a corner, Jaime, wearing his red mask, was already waiting there. He blocked her path with his body and spoke in a low voice.
"Cersei, I want to talk to you."
Looking at Jaime, whom she could not seem to avoid no matter how she tried, Cersei turned her head aside and said calmly, "Jaime, if you have something to discuss, go speak with Father. Coming to me is useless."
"You know what I want to discuss. Perhaps I truly should listen to you and go speak with Father."
Seeing Cersei deliberately pretend not to understand, Jaime frowned beneath his mask and answered pointedly.
"You..."
Cersei understood exactly what he meant. She turned back sharply and stared at Jaime. Then, forcing down her anger, she raised one pale hand and waved to the two Lannister guards behind her.
The two men bowed to her and quickly left, giving the twins space.
"Fine. Speak. What do you want to discuss?"
Cersei took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.
"I want to know what happened between us. Why are you treating me like this now?"
Hearing her, Jaime finally let out the emotions he had been suppressing.
"Nothing happened between us. And how have I treated you? Hm? My dear little brother."
Looking at Jaime's agitation, Cersei instead calmed down and spoke in a light tone.
Her posture seemed to make Jaime even more emotional. He stepped forward, grabbed her soft left wrist, and said, "How have you treated me? You think I did not know about you and Lancel?
"I specifically went to Pycelle before and took some medicine. I quietly had him drink it.
"You went to see him today. Has his body recovered?"
"His body became like that because of you? Heh. It does not matter. I was already preparing to discard that useless boy and find someone new."
Cersei did not resist Jaime's grip on her wrist. Even when he admitted what he had done, she showed no anger at all.
"Cersei, I love you."
Hearing Cersei, Jaime thought she was speaking in anger. By habit, he expressed his love for her.
The words ignited her. Cersei, who had been calm, suddenly slapped Jaime hard with her right hand. The red mask flew from his face.
"Love me? Did you not always say you would protect me and the children? When Joff and I needed you, where were you?
"At that time, in the black cells, I already knew that pile of ash was Joff. But I did not want to admit it. I refused to admit it.
"Do you know how I lived through that time? Every night when I closed my eyes, I saw Joff covered in flame, begging me to save him!"
Cersei seemed completely enraged by Jaime's declaration of love. She struck him again and again while tears streamed down her face, roaring at him.
"I am sorry..."
Jaime suddenly pulled Cersei into his arms and let her vent her anger, apologizing over and over.
When he felt her emotions gradually calm, Jaime lowered his head to kiss her.
But seeing that terrible face, Cersei turned away and murmured softly,
"When we were children, we looked so alike. We changed clothes for a whole day, and Father could not tell us apart.
"Jaime, I did love you before, because in my heart you were perfect.
"But now..."
Seeing Cersei's reaction and hearing her words, Jaime felt something inside him crack. His hands loosened, and he let her go.
"Ha. If it is not my dear sister and brother. What is this? Did you know your long-lost brother was returning and come to welcome me ahead of time?"
Just as the two stood in silence, not knowing what to say, a familiar voice sounded behind Jaime.
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