Morning.
Nine o'clock.
The Trident River, the Ruby Ford.
Winter had already crossed the Neck, driving its chill deep into every corner of the Riverlands.
The morning sun had only just risen. Its light hung low over the land, but it was bright enough for the two armies on opposite banks to see one another clearly.
On the southern bank, an enormous army stretched across the plain like an endless swarm of ants, filling the horizon.
The crimson banners of the Lannisters, the grass-green banners of the Tyrells, the various standards of the Stormlands, and the mismatched armor of the sellswords merged into a suffocating tide of steel.
Countless spears pointed toward the sky, resembling an iron forest waiting to harvest lives.
On the northern bank stood an army as silent as stone.
The banners of the Northern houses fluttered in the cold wind around Galon's blood-red banner bearing the silver fist of House Glover.
On either side were the sky-blue falcon of the Vale and the silver trout of the Riverlands.
The soldiers' breaths became countless clouds of white mist, mingling with the cold air above the river.
No one spoke.
Even the warhorses seemed to sense the killing intent that had nearly frozen the air and had fallen silent.
Across the land, the only sounds were the slow movement of the river and the rustling of withered reeds along its banks.
On the southern shore stood a mound of earth that could barely be called a hill.
Tywin sat upon his horse atop it, gazing across the river at the enemy army.
As his eyes passed over the broad riverbed, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Too shallow..."
A Westerlands knight beside him exhaled a cloud of white breath and voiced what Tywin was thinking.
"Lord Hand, the water level is far too low.
Normally, the water would reach somewhere around our calves, but now...
It barely reaches our ankles."
Tywin narrowed his eyes and examined the Trident.
Just as the knight had said, the broad and normally steady waters of the Trident seemed as though some enormous beast had drained them dry.
The water level had fallen dramatically.
Large stretches of riverbed covered in dark brown mud were exposed, resembling an ugly scar separating the two armies.
Even in the deepest part of the channel, where wet cobblestones could be seen beneath the surface, Tywin estimated that the water barely reached ankle height.
"Could the upper river have frozen?"
"I've been observing it for the past few days. The water level seems to have remained like this."
Another knight rubbed his stiff hands together and guessed,
"With this damned weather... perhaps it's already snowing and freezing upstream."
At that moment, Loras rode over with a smile.
"If that's the case, it's actually advantageous for us!
Northern soldiers are more accustomed to the cold. If we have to fight while wading through freezing water, they would certainly have the advantage.
But now..."
He glanced at Tywin.
"Even if our soldiers simply walk across, they won't get their knees wet. That makes this essentially a battle on open ground.
We have more men than they do. The outcome is already decided."
The others agreed, and their expressions relaxed considerably.
Tywin, however, warned them:
"Do not become careless. Glover would not overlook something like this.
Remain vigilant."
After issuing his warning, he put the strange water level out of his mind.
Whatever the reason for the river's decline, it was no longer important.
What mattered was that the nearly drained riverbed had made an excellent path for his army.
The southern bank where Tywin stood was part of the same plain as the Trident.
The northern bank where Galon stood gradually rose in elevation, eventually reaching the area around the Crossroads Inn, from which the entire river and the southern plain could be overlooked.
If the water level had remained normal in such cold weather, Tywin's army would have been forced to attack while wading through the river.
That would undoubtedly have made the battle more difficult.
Now, with the water level so low, his army could charge almost unhindered.
Tywin looked toward the enemy banners, his thoughts turning elsewhere.
'The cold weather will drain our soldiers' strength, but it will do the same to theirs.'
'We can have the sellswords absorb the first wave of their arrows while buying us some time.'
'By my calculation, the Redwyne men should be almost here...'
He remembered the message received from the Quiet Isle several days earlier, and his mind gradually settled.
'For days, I've been sending troops to harass Glover and keep his attention focused on us.'
'The Redwynes should have gone unnoticed.'
'Once they arrive...'
A cold glint flashed through Tywin's eyes.
'How dare Glover use my son to threaten me.'
'Glover, I will see you destroyed.'
If Galon had known what Tywin was thinking, he would have laughed.
Just last night, Galon had received word that Ser Andar's cavalry had located the Redwyne fleet.
The two sides had fought for only a few hours.
Andar's cavalry had then smashed through the lightly protected sailors of the Redwyne fleet, scattering them completely.
In the end, only a small number had managed to escape under cover of darkness.
Galon now had no danger of being attacked from behind.
Tywin, unaware that his hidden force had been destroyed, remained calm and confidently issued his orders.
"Send word. Let the sellswords attack first."
Tywin's voice was particularly cold in the winter wind.
"Tell those greedy bastards that if they take the opposite bank, there will be as many gold dragons waiting for them as they can carry."
With Tywin's order, the decisive battle that would determine the fate of the Seven Kingdoms began.
In an instant, piercing horns shattered the silence of early winter, sending several frightened crows flying from the reeds.
"Kill them!"
"Brothers, the gold dragons are waiting! Charge!"
The sellswords Tywin had spent a fortune hiring from across the Narrow Sea erupted into animalistic cries.
Their breath formed clouds in the cold air as they surged forward, waving their weapons and rushing toward the Trident.
Moments later, they entered the muddy riverbed.
They splashed through the ankle-deep water and charged toward the Ruby Ford.
"Loose!"
Galon stood among the vanguard, coldly watching the sellswords who valued gold more than their lives.
He gave the order to the archers before him.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
A dense storm of arrows filled the sky and descended upon the advancing sellswords.
"Shields!"
"Raise your shields!"
The mercenary captains were experienced enough to react immediately.
They gathered their men together and raised their shields.
Even so, many fell beneath the barrage, leaving the advancing formation in confusion.
"Form ranks!"
"Attack!"
"Kill!"
With a roar that shook the heavens, the Northern and Vale vanguard advanced.
Shield in one hand and spear in the other, they resembled a black glacier.
Under Galon's command, they surged forward with overwhelming force and entered the cold riverbed that would soon become the center of the battlefield.
Lord Royce, commanding the center, saw Galon's vanguard advance and immediately ordered Edmure's left wing and Morton Waynwood's right wing to remain alert for any movement from the enemy.
'Hmm?'
'Why is Glover in the vanguard?'
Tywin frowned deeply.
Normally, the commander should remain in the center, coordinating the entire battle.
Especially when facing an army as large as the Lannisters, the vanguard was the most dangerous position.
'What is he planning?'
Tywin's thoughts raced as he tried to understand Galon's intentions.
But no matter how much he analyzed it, he could never have guessed that Galon was personally leading the vanguard so he could control its orderly withdrawal later.
Only Galon knew when the flood would arrive.
Only Galon had the authority and ability to control the entire vanguard as it fought and retreated, drawing as many Lannister troops as possible into the riverbed.
Anyone else attempting the same maneuver risked turning an orderly retreat into a complete rout.
Since he could not determine Galon's intentions, Tywin simply stopped worrying about them.
'Whatever trick he's playing, if he dares to stand in the vanguard, he won't be going back.'
Killing intent flashed in Tywin's eyes.
He turned and immediately ordered:
"Sound the horns."
"Tell Ser Gregor and Ser Garlan to advance. Kill Glover at any cost."
Hooooorn!
The horns sounded.
Gregor Clegane, who had been waiting impatiently, charged into the riverbed like an unleashed beast.
"Charge!"
"Garlan the Gallant" followed close behind.
A massive tide of soldiers surged forward. The two armies collided violently in the center of the riverbed.
At that moment, there were no elaborate tactics.
No clever maneuvers.
Only the brutal clash of soldiers fighting for their lives.
The sounds of battle filled the sky.
The Mountain relied on the heavy infantry under his command and charged directly into range of the shield-and-spear formation, determined to tear apart Galon's disciplined line.
Both sides exploited the strengths of their respective troops as the battle descended into chaos.
After fighting his way through the press of soldiers, Gregor finally reached the shield wall.
"Die!"
"Freak!"
The Mountain raised his massive greatsword and struck down the soldiers before him.
His terrifying strength and heavy plate armor allowed him to force open a gap in Galon's formation.
The Westerlands soldiers and sellswords immediately poured through it like a spearhead.
Galon's formation began to buckle.
At the critical moment, Galon moved.
"Ron, hold this position!"
Leaving the order behind, he led his guards toward the Mountain.
Galon's movement immediately attracted the attention of the mercenaries who had broken into the formation.
"Get him!"
"He's their commander!"
The sellswords might have lacked discipline, but every one of them was an experienced killer.
They shouted excitedly as they charged Galon with curved swords, axes, and maces.
A sellsword from Lys slipped through the formation and struck down one of the Glover soldiers.
At the same time, another Glover soldier brought his axe down upon the sellsword.
The man fell, and Galon stepped past him without hesitation, his greatsword flashing as he continued forward.
Relying on the strength of his Valyrian steel scale armor, Galon charged through the battlefield like a god of war.
Any mercenary who stood in his path was forced back or cut down.
Under his leadership, the sellswords who had come for gold began to collapse within minutes.
Those who attempted to flee were pursued by the soldiers behind them.
Galon ignored the scattered mercenaries.
'We need to finish this quickly!'
'Do not get bogged down fighting the Mountain. Kill him in one decisive strike!'
His red eyes locked onto Gregor.
A sharp glint flashed through them.
Galon charged.
The Mountain turned his enormous helmet toward him and gave a cruel laugh.
"Another fool coming to die."
He raised his massive greatsword and brought it crashing toward Galon.
Galon swiftly moved aside.
At the same time, he silently uttered several syllables of the Ancient Tongue.
A pale light shimmered across his greatsword.
He swung it toward Gregor's right leg.
Crash!
Empowered by magic, the blade cut through the Mountain's armor.
Gregor cried out and collapsed.
Galon gave him no chance to recover... One final strike ended the confrontation.
Then Galon immediately moved to seal the opening Gregor had created.
"For the North!"
His roar echoed across the battlefield as he cut down a soldier who tried to break through.
The Northern soldiers who witnessed the scene were instantly inspired.
They surged forward without hesitation and sealed the gap once more.
The unstable defensive line was restored. The battle once again descended into a brutal struggle.
Then, suddenly, Galon felt something deep within his soul.
The magical dam upstream of the Green Fork had collapsed.
Water that had accumulated for days was now roaring downstream like a released army, rushing toward them at astonishing speed.
'One hour!'
'I have one hour to get everyone out of here!'
Galon suddenly raised his bloodstained sword.
He shouted the predetermined signal to the officers around him.
"The spirit of those who enter the enemy lines..." His voice rang across the battlefield.
"Knows no retreat!"
Every officer in the vanguard froze when they heard the signal.
"The spirit of those who enter the enemy lines knows no retreat!"
They shouted the words almost simultaneously.
The soldiers around them quickly joined in, passing the message toward the troops behind them.
Lord Royce and the other commanders immediately understood.
The flood was coming.
They ordered their troops to advance and prepare to receive Galon's vanguard.
"Withdraw!"
"Keep formation! Withdraw!"
The allied vanguard, which had previously advanced with overwhelming momentum, suddenly began displaying a strange weakness under Galon's careful control.
They continued fighting Garlan's forces, but their footsteps gradually moved backward.
The shield wall began to loosen.
The battle line slowly contracted toward the northern bank.
On the southern bank, Tywin immediately noticed the change.
'They're losing! Glover killed the Mountain, but he clearly paid a price for it.'
'The spirit of those who enter the enemy lines knows no retreat?'
Tywin gave a cold laugh.
'Then let them have what they want.'
"Sound the horns!"
He issued his order without hesitation.
"Tell Randyll Tarly and Ponos to cross the river with their entire forces. Crush them on the Ruby Ford."
The horns sounded again.
Randyll and Ponos had been watching the battle from the sidelines.
Although the situation seemed almost too favorable, they had no reason to disobey their orders.
Twenty thousand fresh troops from the Reach and Stormlands advanced like two enormous pincers.
They entered the muddy riverbed and launched a furious assault on the apparently retreating Northern army.
By the time Tywin's two wings had fully entered the riverbed, Galon's vanguard had successfully withdrawn to solid ground on the northern side of the Ruby Ford.
Lord Royce's center had already formed a defensive line there.
"Hold!"
"Pin them down at the edge of the river!"
Galon observed the situation while reorganizing his defenses.
The battlefield had now shifted completely.
Most of the Northern army occupied the higher, firmer ground around the Crossroads.
Only several thousand men under Galon's command remained near the Ruby Ford, fighting Garlan's advancing army.
Galon continued his careful control of the battle.
He personally led his troops in a fighting withdrawal until they finally linked up with the center at the Crossroads.
Then the horns sounded.
Galon ordered Edmure to use the Riverlands forces to halt Randyll's assault near the Crossroads Inn.
He ordered Morton to stop Ponos and the Stormlands forces.
The left, center, and right wings formed a semicircular defensive formation, firmly occupying the advantageous high ground around the Crossroads.
The battle immediately reached a fever pitch.
Randyll Tarly's command ability was displayed to its fullest.
Even while fighting from inferior terrain, his heavy infantry from the Reach advanced step by step with superior equipment and strict discipline.
The right wing defended by Edmure gradually began to buckle beneath the pressure.
"Hold! Do not retreat!"
"Victory is within reach! Hold!"
Having recently suffered the pain of betrayal, Edmure seemed determined to prove himself once again.
He launched counterattacks despite the casualties.
Covered in mud and blood, he constantly encouraged his men and held the majority of Tarly's forces below the slope.
Morton's battlefield was even more intense. He led the Vale soldiers against the Stormlanders in a fierce struggle.
Both sides fought desperately over a small section of high ground to the northeast.
Neither was willing to yield an inch.
"Hold!"
"For the honor of the Vale! Stand your ground!"
Waynwood's voice had become hoarse.
An arrow had struck his left arm at some point during the fighting.
He endured the pain and continued directing his soldiers, keeping the Stormlanders trapped below the slope.
Minute after minute passed.
The fierce battle continued for more than forty minutes.
The fallen on both sides had already transformed the Ruby Ford into a grim field of battle.
Tywin remained with the center, staring at the battlefield with a deeply furrowed brow.
'Damn it. Where is Redwyne? Why haven't they appeared yet?'
Tywin's army held the advantage on the battlefield.
Galon's defensive line continued retreating.
It had now almost completely abandoned the Ruby Ford.
Yet Tywin knew that without the Redwyne reinforcements, breaking through Galon's final defensive line would come at a terrible cost.
'We cannot wait any longer.'
For some reason, Tywin felt increasingly uneasy.
According to his plan, even if the Redwyne forces were delayed, they should have appeared by now.
Yet there was still no sign of them.
'Could Glover have known about the ambush from the beginning and sent troops to intercept Redwyne?'
'Is that why he has remained defensive?'
'Is he simply buying time until those troops return, after which he intends to counterattack?'
Tywin's expression hardened.
The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.
He stopped hesitating.
Turning toward Loras, who had long since grown impatient, he issued his final order.
"Ser Loras, take ten thousand men from the center and deliver the final blow. I want that steel fist banner brought down within an hour."
Loras immediately laughed.
"As you command, Lord Hand."
He pulled on the reins and led the final ten thousand elite troops of the center toward the opposite bank.
At that moment, only two thousand Lannister cavalry remained beside Tywin.
He watched as Loras led his army into the muddy riverbed, preparing to join Garlan Tyrell.
The unease inside Tywin suddenly reached its peak.
Then—
A strange sound suddenly rose above the noise of battle.
Rumble...
Rumble...
At first, it sounded like distant thunder.
Then the earth began to tremble violently.
Loose stones jumped across the riverbed.
The horses grew restless.
Soldiers stopped fighting and looked around in alarm.
"What is that sound?"
Randyll suddenly turned toward the northwest, looking upstream.
At the far end of the riverbed, a thin white line had appeared.
It rapidly grew wider and taller.
In an instant, it transformed into a towering wall of muddy water.
"Flood!"
Randyll's pupils contracted. He had no time to think.
"Get to higher ground!"
"Quickly!"
He immediately led his household troops toward the Crossroads.
Edmure tried to organize his men to block the advancing enemy.
But his exhausted soldiers were terrified in the face of nature's overwhelming power.
They began retreating.
With no other choice, Edmure withdrew as well, avoiding the approaching flood.
Randyll was fortunate enough to lead part of his household troops onto the higher ground around the Crossroads and escape the first wave.
Others were not so lucky.
The roaring flood carried broken branches, stones, and debris as it swept downstream like an enormous beast, its thunderous roar drowning out the battlefield.
"Water!"
"It's a flood!"
"The flood is coming! Run!"
"Get to shore!"
"Quickly!"
Panic erupted throughout the Lannister army. But tens of thousands of soldiers were packed tightly inside the wide riverbed.
They tried to retreat.
But it was already too late. Within moments, the flood was upon them.
"Gods..."
"Is this divine punishment?"
A Stormlands knight who followed the Faith of the Seven realized that escape was impossible.
He dropped to his knees and began praying.
Ponos, however, fought desperately for his life.
At the last possible moment, he managed to break through Waynwood's line and reach the slope.
"I surrender!"
He threw himself down and cried out in terror.
Before Waynwood could react, the flood arrived.
Boom!
The wall of water swept through the Lannister army.
Loras, caught in the middle of the riverbed, desperately urged his horse toward the southern bank.
But moments later, the rushing water overwhelmed him and carried him away.
Countless soldiers were swept downstream. Their heavy armor made escape nearly impossible.
"It's over!"
"It's all over!"
On the southern bank, Tywin stared at the enormous wall of water sweeping across the battlefield.
His stern face turned pale.
The riding crop slipped from his hand.
"My lord, we have to go!"
"If we stay, we'll be caught in it too!"
As the flood approached their position, Tywin remained frozen.
A loyal Lannister knight immediately mounted Tywin's horse with him.
"Go! To Harrenhal!"
He seized the reins and fled with Tywin and the remaining two thousand cavalry toward Harrenhal.
As for the soldiers trapped in the river and on the northern bank, they were left to their fate.
On the northern bank—
The instant Galon heard the first thunderous roar, he issued a new order.
"Twenty steps back!"
"Shield wall!"
"Hold the riverbank!"
He led the allied army back just far enough to avoid the main force of the flood.
Then they formed an impenetrable wall of shields and spears along the bank.
The Lannister soldiers who had survived the first wave and were desperately attempting to climb toward safety were met by cold spearpoints and locked shields.
"No! Let me up!"
"Help me!"
Garlan was trembling.
His position near the front had allowed him to narrowly escape being swept away.
But the flood continued rushing behind him, while the Northern spears blocked his path ahead.
"I surrender..."
Garlan had barely managed to speak before several spears struck him.
The Gallant Tyrell fell back into the rushing waters.
Elsewhere, Randyll had also survived.
He looked at his desperate soldiers and let out a long sigh.
Then he planted his Valyrian steel sword into the ground and dropped to one knee.
"I surrender!"
Edmure watched as Tarly and the surviving Reach soldiers knelt and surrendered.
The tension that had gripped him finally broke.
He burst into relieved laughter.
"Haha..."
The surviving Riverlands nobles immediately began celebrating.
"We won!"
"Haha! We actually won!"
Thunderous cheers erupted across the northern bank.
Every soldier.
Every lord.
All of them turned toward the man standing at the riverbank in black armor.
"Everyone!"
Galon looked around at the battlefield.
He raised his sword toward the sky and shouted with all his strength,
"We have won!"
Boom!
Every soldier raised their weapons and roared.
"Glover!"
"Glover!"
At this moment, Galon was the only king on the entire battlefield.
__________
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