The time traced back to ten minutes prior.
When he noticed Dagon leading his men in pursuit of Ron, Galon knew in his heart that the trap was set.
He did not order the attack immediately. Instead, he peered through the curtain of snow, watching the scene below with a cold gaze.
The Ironborn army was behaving exactly as anticipated.
Disorganized by the chase and the blizzard, they began to climb the deadly slope without a shred of caution.
As the remaining four hundred men under Ron's command scrambled onto the crest of Sentinel Stand, Galon murmured to himself, 'No rush, let them get a little closer...'
He waited until the bulk of the enemy forces were mired on the incline, their movements sluggish and crowded due to the thick snow and the steepness of the grade.
Finally, Galon realized the moment had arrived.
He rose abruptly from the snow, the white powder sloughing off his leather armor.
At the instant Galon stood, five hundred archers revealed themselves from their snowy camouflage in unison.
Their newly fashioned bows formed a forest of death, cold arrowheads piercing the snowflakes as they leveled their aim at the enemies below.
"Fire!"
His command was like a mountain avalanche—concise, icy, and filled with devastating power.
The vibration of bowstrings and the screech of arrows tore through the wailing wind.
The first volley of arrows fell like a downpour of frozen lightning, slamming mercilessly into the Ironborn ranks on the slope.
Cries of agony erupted instantly as over a hundred men were struck.
They collapsed with terror in their eyes, their falling bodies tumbling into those below and knocking even more men off their feet.
"Shields! Get your shields up!"
Dagon shouted desperately, but the Ironborn were like frightened deer, scattering in all directions in search of cover, only to find themselves bottlenecked by the press of the crowd.
Panic-stricken screams and howls of despair broke out in an instant.
Another volley followed!
The Ironborn had nowhere to hide on the steep, snowy slope.
Another massive wave was cut down, their warm blood splattering against the pristine white snow in a shocking display.
The wind and snow only served to make the incoming arrows harder to detect.
"Keep firing!"
Galon watched the chaotic Ironborn, his voice as steady as a rock.
The rain of arrows came wave after wave without pause. The terrifying killing power of the new bows continued to harvest lives.
After ten volleys, the hillside was littered with corpses and the sounds of groaning men.
In a matter of minutes, more than half of the thousand-plus Ironborn had been lost.
Asha's face was deathly pale, her eyes nearly bursting from their sockets. She tried desperately to call out and stabilize her ranks, but panic spread like a plague.
The terrain and the long-range bombardment had utterly shattered any possibility of organized resistance.
'What kind of bows are these? Why is the power so immense?'
Asha watched with her own eyes as her armored crewmen were impaled by the heavy shafts of the Deepwood Motte archers.
It was as if the armor they wore was made of mere paper.
On the slope, Dagon saw that they could not retreat. His eyes burned with fury as he bellowed, "The dead are dead! Charge with me!"
He stopped retreating and instead brandished his weapon, charging toward the top of the hill.
Inspired by Dagon's bravado, the Ironborn who had survived the slaughter reorganized during a gap in the firing and roared as they rushed the summit of Sentinel Stand.
However, Ron, having acted as the bait, had already reformed his lines and was waiting for them grimly.
"Kill!"
With a wave of Ron's hand, his soldiers clashed with Dagon's group.
Relying on their tight formation, Ron's men dealt with the scattered Ironborn as if it were a slaughter, rapidly claiming lives.
Galon held his greatsword, leading two hundred archers to bolster Ron's position.
Seeing the situation stabilized, he turned his cold gaze toward Asha, who stood at the base of the hill.
'It really is Asha Greyjoy. She is a high-value bargaining chip; she cannot be allowed to die here.'
At that moment, Asha's eyes were filled with grief. 'Dagon is finished. I cannot die here; I must take the survivors back!'
Asha suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs, "Retreat! Retreat out of the Wolfswood at once!"
Her heart felt as though it were being pierced by needles as she attempted to flee with the remaining Ironborn.
Hearing Asha's call to retreat, Dagon, who was still locked in combat with Ron, grew flustered, and the morale of his men plummeted.
Ron seized the opening and cut Dagon down with a single stroke.
Seeing this, the rest of the Ironborn scattered in an instant. One of them actually ran toward Galon's position, only to be cut down by his sword.
"Leave a few alive!"
Galon gave the instruction to those nearby, then turned to the hornblower. "Sound the horn immediately. Tell Jon to intercept them!"
The hornblower raised the instrument and let out a series of long blasts.
On the other side of the Wolfswood, Jon, who had been waiting anxiously, burst into laughter upon hearing the signal.
"Brothers, the Ironborn have broken! Now it is our turn to take the stage! Follow me and cut them down!"
Jon drew his longsword, spurred his horse, and charged toward the rendezvous point.
Five hundred riders thundered behind him. Within minutes, the cavalry appeared in Asha's vision from the flank and rear.
The sound of hooves like rolling thunder completely severed Asha's last shred of hope.
The five hundred riders split the remaining Ironborn into several pockets, slaughtering them at will.
Asha looked around.
Her path of retreat was blocked, and arrows continued to rain from above. She knew in her heart that there was no escape today.
'Asha Greyjoy will never be taken alive. She will end it herself, axe in hand and a smile on her face. But before that, I will kill the man who designed this trap!'
Making her decision, Asha snapped her head toward Galon, who was walking across the battlefield cutting down fleeing Ironborn.
"It's you! You damned Glover!"
She turned and led her personal guard toward him, her eyes fierce as she brandished her battle-axe and lunged.
Mihawk, standing beside Galon, tensed and immediately drew his bow, but just as he was about to release the arrow, Galon stopped him.
"Let her come!"
Galon stared at Asha with a detached gaze, thinking to himself, 'Asha has a fierce and wild personality. If pushed to a dead end, she might commit suicide.'
'She is of great use to me; she absolutely cannot die now.'
As he pondered, Asha and her six guards reached a point not far from him. It wasn't that she was unwilling to charge further, but rather that Ron had hurried over after killing Dagon.
Simultaneously, Jon arrived with a portion of the cavalry.
It was clear the battle elsewhere was already decided.
The brutal fighting gradually drew to a close, and the shouts of battle grew sparse.
Asha looked around.
Aside from a few men patrolling the field to deliver finishing blows, everyone else had moved in to surround her and her guards.
Her eyes, filled with resentment and fury, locked onto Galon. Her voice was hoarse as she asked, "Who are you, exactly?"
Galon pushed aside those protecting him.
He did not answer immediately but silently appraised her for a moment.
The woman before him was tall with long legs, her handsome face marked by a vibrant wildness.
Even in a desperate situation, her eyes were full of unyielding spirit, which Galon found himself admiring.
'She is much more beautiful than she was in the television series.'
Galon's eyes flickered before he replied coldly, "Deepwood Motte—Galon Glover. And I presume you are Asha Greyjoy, Theon's sister."
Asha did not deny it. "That's right, it's me!"
She glanced at the soldiers still closing in and spoke quickly.
"Galon Glover, in the name of the Drowned God and the Old Gods! I, Asha Greyjoy, daughter of King Balon, demand a warrior's duel with you!
Do you dare to set aside your army and face me one-on-one? Let me die like a proper warrior, not like a stray dog torn apart by a pack!"
Having spoken, Asha raised her battle-axe, her mind set. 'If he doesn't agree, I'll kill myself immediately. If he thinks he can take Asha alive, he can think again!'
Galon's lips twitched slightly, having clearly noticed her intent. He said solemnly, "As you wish."
Galon signaled for Ron and the others to move back, clearing a space.
Before Galon could even strike a pose, Asha let out a war cry and lunged with her axe, her offensive reckless and frantic, as if she intended for them both to die together.
However, Galon's martial skill was far superior to hers. Even the Kingsguard were not his match, let alone Asha.
He calmly parried and dodged, his footwork remaining steady in the snow.
After a few exchanges, he caught an opening following a heavy swing from Asha.
The flat of his blade struck her wrist with precision.
"Ah!"
Asha cried out in pain as the battle-axe flew from her hand and embedded itself deep in the nearby snow.
She drew a dagger from her waist and prepared to lung again, but Galon stepped forward first.
He slammed his sword hilt into her abdomen and followed with a heavy punch to her jaw.
Asha let out a muffled groan, her dagger falling into the snow.
Her body followed, hitting the ground hard.
She struggled for a few moments but was unable to rise due to exhaustion and pain.
"Bind her. Gag her with a cloth to prevent her from biting her tongue!"
Two guards immediately stepped forward and bound her securely with sturdy rope.
"Captain!"
Seeing her captured, her kinsmen and guards rushed forward like madmen, only to be intercepted by Ron and Jon's men.
In a matter of moments, spears and swords pierced their bodies, staining the muddy snow red.
Gagged and bound, Asha's eyes bulged with fury, but she could only weep in grief, curled up on the ground.
At the moment Asha was completely subdued, as if a play had ended, the long-lasting wind and snow suddenly stopped.
Galon walked across the battlefield, issuing orders to Jon and Ron.
"Clean up the battlefield as quickly as possible. Interrogate the survivors. Find out how many more of them there are and what their plans are."
Ron and Jon nodded and immediately set to their tasks.
Galon surveyed the corpse-strewn slopes of Sentinel Stand and felt a sense of relief.
'Now, I can focus on supporting Winterfell. I hope you can hold on!'
Galon looked toward the direction of Winterfell, his eyes full of concern.
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