Contrary to Karl's expectations, the resistance he had anticipated never came.
The counterattack from the nearby Shield Islands simply failed to materialize. It was almost as if the lords there had no intention of reclaiming Old Oak or challenging his occupation of the castle.
Only after his forces had reorganized inside Old Oak and marched south along the Coastal Road, stopping roughly twenty leagues from the Mander River, did Karl finally understand why.
A raven arrived.
The message it carried revealed the identity of the commander waiting for him.
Lord Randyll Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill.
Karl read the letter twice before folding it carefully.
"So... it's Randyll Tarly."
He leaned comfortably against the trunk of a large oak tree, a faint smile appearing on his face as he glanced toward Jon Ghost, who stood nearby.
"To be honest, perhaps I should have brought Samwell with us."
His smile widened.
"I'm rather curious to see what expression the proud Lord Randyll Tarly would wear if he were defeated by the very son he has spent his entire life despising."
After capturing two noble houses and absorbing the additional two thousand soldiers Jon had later brought, Karl's army had expanded to nearly ten thousand men.
Unfortunately, numbers alone couldn't solve every problem.
His greatest weakness remained the same.
Cavalry.
Despite painstakingly gathering every mounted soldier available from Old Oak and the forces that had once belonged to Garlan Tyrell, his army possessed only a little over three thousand horsemen.
Barely a quarter of his total strength.
Even worse, those cavalry units came from different lords, different traditions, and different command structures.
They had never fought together before.
Karl had little choice but to preserve their original officers and reorganize them as efficiently as possible.
At the moment, the army had established camp on a stretch of high ground overlooking the fertile plains of the Reach.
Rather than remain inside his command tent, Karl had wandered outside to admire the beautiful countryside.
Golden fields stretched toward the horizon.
A cool breeze carried the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers.
The peaceful scenery stood in stark contrast to the brutal war that was about to unfold.
The challenge letter remained in Karl's hand.
He had met Randyll Tarly once before in King's Landing.
That meeting had not been pleasant.
At the time, Randyll's appearance had interfered with one of Karl's plans, forcing him to postpone the matter indefinitely.
More importantly...
The dispute had centered around Samwell Tarly.
Karl had chosen to protect Sam despite Randyll's fierce opposition.
Using both his authority and his status, he had openly overruled the Lord of Horn Hill.
That single decision had completely soured their relationship.
Now...
This challenge letter was Randyll's response.
Among proud warriors, there were few problems that couldn't be settled on the battlefield.
If words failed...
Steel would speak instead.
Karl naturally understood Randyll's intentions.
There had always been an unspoken wager between them.
Now that wager had become one of pride.
The victor would prove whose beliefs were correct.
Unable to suppress his amusement, Karl laughed softly.
Jon rested one hand upon the pommel of his sword while watching soldiers erect tents in the distance.
A helpless smile crossed his face.
"I don't think Sam could ever do something like that."
He shook his head.
"In fact... I'm more worried Lord Randyll would frighten him into tears before the battle even began."
Karl burst into laughter.
"Tears?"
"I think he'd wet himself."
Jon's lips twitched.
Silently, he apologized to Samwell in his heart before forcing out an awkward chuckle.
Not far away, Ghost lay lazily atop a large stone, raising his head to let out a quiet whine as if protesting Karl's merciless teasing.
Karl smiled.
"If Sam knew what you just said, he'd probably be grateful I left him safely behind at Casterly Rock."
After a brief pause, his tone became more serious.
"Besides, Sam's talents have never been suited for war."
"He's gifted in administration, records, and scholarship."
"Once he's gained enough experience assisting Tyrion, I intend to send him to the Citadel."
"I still need someone I can truly trust to become my Grand Maester."
Jon blinked.
He immediately understood what Karl meant.
A trustworthy Grand Maester.
That position carried enormous political importance.
Realizing the conversation had shifted toward matters of governance, Jon instinctively decided not to pursue the topic.
Instead, he quickly changed the subject.
"Your Majesty..."
"How do you think Randyll Tarly intends to fight us?"
His eyes drifted across the endless plains surrounding them.
The road stretching south from Old Oak toward Highgarden was astonishingly flat.
On both sides grew endless fields of wheat, barley, vegetables, and orchards.
Green meadows rolled toward the horizon.
Herds of sheep and cattle grazed peacefully beneath the warm summer sun.
Having grown up in the frozen North, Jon couldn't hide his amazement.
Winterfell possessed forests and mountains.
The North possessed snow.
It possessed wolves.
But fertile farmland like this...
Almost nowhere.
Looking upon the Reach for the first time, Jon finally understood why everyone called it the breadbasket of Westeros.
He couldn't help wondering...
How much grain could these fields produce?
How many millions could they feed?
If the North possessed land like this...
How different would life have been?
Yet admiration quickly gave way to concern.
Such terrain favored only one thing.
Cavalry.
Heavy cavalry.
An army with sufficient mounted knights could dominate battlefields like these with terrifying efficiency.
Karl's ten thousand men possessed barely three thousand horsemen.
The Reach, however...
The Reach produced the finest knights in all of Westeros.
Its fertile lands supported the largest population on the continent.
Its horse breeding was unmatched.
Its martial traditions had existed for centuries.
Every noble family raised knights from childhood.
Every tournament celebrated mounted combat.
If there were one kingdom perfectly suited for cavalry warfare...
It was the Reach.
The more Jon thought about it, the heavier the pressure became.
Karl quietly watched him think.
Instead of answering directly, he folded the challenge letter and tucked it inside his coat.
Then he smiled.
"I'm glad you noticed."
"So tell me, Ser Jon Ghost..."
"If you were Randyll Tarly..."
"Standing on these plains..."
"How would you defeat me?"
Jon froze.
The unexpected question caught him off guard.
Still...
He forced himself to think.
Karl waited patiently.
His answer would determine Jon's next responsibility in the coming campaign.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)