As Lynn's words fell, the air in the entire hall seemed to ignite.
"Roar!"
Greatjon Umber was the first to respond.
He slammed his horn cup onto the floor, ale splashing everywhere.
His face, red from alcohol and rage, was filled with bloodthirsty fervor.
"Well said! That's what a Northern man should say!"
"Let's turn the world upside down!"
"Kill all those Southern softies!"
"For the North!"
"For survival!"
The other vassals also responded, waving their weapons and venting their fighting spirit with the roughest language.
The entire main hall instantly transformed from a harvest council into a war council about to set off.
Ned Stark looked at the fervent vassals before him, and the blood in his heart also began to boil.
He knew that from this moment on, the North had completely awakened.
However, amidst this fervent clamor, an untimely, soft whisper-like voice clearly reached everyone's ears.
"Everyone, please calm down."
The voice was not loud, but it instantly extinguished the boiling atmosphere.
Everyone's gaze turned in unison to the man sitting in the corner, who had remained silent the entire time.
The Lord of Dreadfort, Roose Bolton.
This goes back thousands of years to the "Age of Heroes."
At that time, the North was not a unified entity, but rather composed of dozens of warring tribal kingdoms.
Among them, the "King of Winter" of House Stark and the "Red King" of House Bolton were the two most powerful forces.
They were sworn enemies vying for supremacy in the North.
After countless years of war, House Stark finally defeated and forcibly conquered House Bolton, forcing the latter to kneel and swear fealty.
Bolton was forced to submit, but this humiliation and the ambition to seize the throne were deeply engraved in the blood memory of House Bolton.
This was mainly due to cultural and religious conflicts.
House Stark worshipped the "Old Gods" passed down by the Children of the Forest and followed ancient traditions such as "guest right."
Their rule, though strict, was generally just, honorable, and deeply popular.
Bolton, on the other hand, adhered to traditions of flaying and terror politics.
Their family sigil was the "Flayed Man," stemming from their gruesome custom of flaying their enemies!
Historically, they even used these skins to make cloaks.
They intimidated enemies and subjects through fear and cruelty.
This was in Stark contrast to the Stark way of ruling through honor and loyalty.
Therefore, House Bolton has always been one of the strongest and oldest vassals in the North.
They were based in Dreadfort, commanding a large army.
This strength always fueled their ambition of "they can be replaced."
They obeyed only the military might of Stark, not its moral authority.
When House Stark was strong and stable, such as during the current rule of Ned Stark, House Bolton would hide its fangs and act like a loyal vassal.
Roose Bolton even participated in Robert's Rebellion, seemingly loyal to Robert and Ned.
However, the subsequent War of the Five Kings provided House Bolton with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Roose Bolton once said something to Ramsay that perfectly encapsulated their relationship with the North.
"A peaceful country, a happy people—that is the difference between our House Bolton and their House Stark."
In Bolton's view, Stark's sense of honor was naive and weak, while their own cruel realism was the true essence of governance.
This fundamental divergence ensured that the two families could never truly reconcile.
Simply put, in the North, House Stark was the king, while House Bolton was the strongest, most defiant, most unsettling, and most cruel challenger.
Roose Bolton slowly put down his wine cup and meticulously wiped his thin, almost bloodless lips with a pristine silk handkerchief.
His movements were elegant, out of place among the rough and uninhibited Northern lords.
"Lord Bolton,"
Greatjon Umber frowned, his tone unfriendly.
"What do you mean by this?"
"Are you trying to be a coward?"
"Of course not, Lord Umber."
Roose Bolton looked up, his pale, almost transparent eyes showing no emotional fluctuations.
"I just think that before making a decision, we should see the essence of things."
He stood up, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, finally resting on Ned Stark.
"The cause of this war is the personal grudge between Lysa Arryn and Lord Lynn."
His voice was calm, yet it accurately struck at the core of the issue.
"Lord Lynn is the king-beyond-the-wall, and furthermore, Duke Stark's future son-in-law, the most distinguished guest in the North."
"Now, our guest is threatened, and as hosts, we naturally have an obligation to protect his safety."
Roose Bolton bowed slightly to Ned, his posture impeccably humble.
"Duke Stark is our liege lord; his will is the will of the North."
"Since His Grace has decided to send troops, we, as vassals, are duty-bound to follow the banner of the Direwolf and clear all obstacles for Lord Lynn."
"This is our family, our responsibility, our honor."
He spoke grandly, every word conforming to the traditions and laws of the North.
However, no one present was a fool.
They heard the hidden malice in Roose Bolton's words.
He subtly redefined this war for survival as a war that "had to be fought to protect Lynn."
He cleverly twisted the collective sense of honor and survival instinct that Lynn had just ignited into the "obligation" that vassals owed to their liege lord.
We are not fighting for ourselves, but to fulfill our fealty to House Stark.
We are not fighting for food and survival, but to help Lynn solve his personal troubles.
In an instant, the highly elevated atmosphere in the hall became somewhat subtle.
The fervor on some lords' faces gradually faded, replaced by a hint of doubt.
Their gazes towards Lynn also held a touch more scrutiny.
Yes, after all, this matter started because of this young man.
We indeed have to sacrifice the sons of the entire North for his personal grudge.
Ned Stark's face darkened, and he was about to say something.
But Lynn raised a hand to stop him.
Meeting everyone's gaze, he walked calmly to the center of the hall, to stand before Roose Bolton.
"Lord Bolton is right."
Lynn spoke, his voice calm yet resonant, filled with undeniable power.
Everyone was stunned.
They hadn't expected Lynn to admit it directly.
"This war did indeed begin because of me."
Lynn's gaze met Roose Bolton's unruffled eyes directly, his face showing no embarrassment at being exposed, only frankness.
"I admit, asking everyone to go south to fight has my selfish motive of self-preservation."
"I don't want to die; I want to live."
"I want to protect my family, my wildling people."
"But!"
Lynn's tone suddenly shifted, his voice abruptly rising!
"My life and death are now tied to every single person present, and to the future of the entire North!"
"If the lips are gone, can the teeth be far behind?"
"Lord Bolton, you only see the cause of this war, but you don't see its outcome!"
"If I die, or if everyone stands by and does nothing, Lysa and Frey will completely control the The Riverlands!"
"At that time, will they sell grain to the North?"
"The answer is certainly no!"
"They will only blockade all roads and then gloat as we resort to cannibalism in this icy wilderness due to hunger!"
"If I win, I will control the entire The Riverlands!"
"Moreover, Tyrell is also waiting for the outcome of this battle."
"If I can win this war, then the grain from the The Riverlands and The Reach will be the grain for the North!"
"I will fill your granaries with grain for winter! I will ensure your people no longer have to worry about starving to death!"
Lynn looked around at everyone.
His words were simple, blunt, yet they struck at the heart!
"I am not demanding or blackmailing you to fight for me."
"I am inviting you to fight with me for our common interests!"
"This is a transaction!"
"You use your swords to win victory for me."
"I use my victory to gain survival for you!"
"I, Lynn, lay it all out here."
"I am a selfish person; everything I do is for myself, for my family and my people to survive the Long Night."
"But my interests and your interests are now completely aligned!"
"You may not believe in my benevolence, but you must believe in my selfishness!"
"Because only if I live, can you live!"
In the hall, there was a deathly silence.
Everyone was stunned by Lynn's frank, almost shameless words.
Damn it, can you really play it this way?
They had seen hypocrites, but never anyone so straightforward!
Lynn didn't hide his selfish motives at all; he even used this selfishness as a bargaining chip to gain everyone's trust!
But... damn it, what he said seemed to make a lot of sense!
Compared to those Southern nobles who spoke of benevolence and morality, Lynn's naked exchange of interests made them feel more secure instead.
Because only profit is the most unbreakable alliance in this world!
It's even more unbreakable than honor, responsibility, and duty!
Greatjon Umber was stunned for a long time, then suddenly slapped his thigh and burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha! Good! Well said!"
"I like honest people like you who don't hide anything!"
"That's right!"
"Who the hell cares who we're fighting for, as long as my family and soldiers can eat their fill, I'll do it willingly!"
A glint flashed in Wyman Manderly's small, squinted eyes.
He stroked his corpulent belly and said with a chuckle.
"Lord Lynn is truly a remarkable man. White Harbor will take this deal!"
Roose Bolton's expression turned somewhat grim.
His carefully laid linguistic trap had been brutally shattered by Lynn in the most unreasonable way possible.
He felt like he had punched cotton, powerful but with nowhere to exert it.
Just then, a clear and firm voice rang out from behind Maege Mormont.
"Lord Bolton, you are wrong!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice, only to see a petite girl emerge from behind her mother.
She was wearing a small bear-skin armor, with a short sword hanging at her waist.
Her tender face, however, bore a seriousness and determination unbefitting her age.
Lyanna Mormont.
"Lyanna?"
Ned was somewhat surprised.
Maege Mormont looked at her daughter, her eyes showing no hindrance, only encouragement.
The women of Bear Island never feared slitting a man's throat, much less feared expressing their opinions in front of men.
It could be said that Maege's education deeply influenced Lyanna.
Lyanna ignored everyone's astonished gazes and walked straight to the center of the hall, climbing onto an empty bench.
This way, she could ensure that all the burly, tall Northmen could see her.
"Lord Bolton,"
The little bear girl's voice was exceptionally clear, and no one looked down on her because she was a woman; the Mormonts had always been skilled fighters, capable of taking on ten opponents.
"You said that we are sending troops to fulfill our obligation to Duke Stark, to protect Lord Lynn."
"But I want to ask, does Lord Lynn need our protection?"
She waved her small hand, pointing at Lynn.
"You seem to have forgotten the fear that the Targaryen dragons once brought!"
"And he also has eighty thousand warriors from the king-beyond-the-wall tribes, nominally!"
"But as long as those wildling women and children, as you call them, take up weapons, they can also become brave and skilled warriors!"
"Lynn alone is enough to flatten your Dreadfort a hundred times over, my lord!"
Roose Bolton's eye twitched imperceptibly.
But he knew it was true; Lynn's power had already far exceeded that of any vassal, and even the combined military strength of the entire North would still fall short compared to Lynn.
Although nominally just a small vassal, even a typical Warden couldn't deal with him.
Therefore, Roose Bolton wisely chose not to retort.
"He came to Winterfell not to seek refuge!"
"He came to give us a warning, to give us an opportunity!"
"He told us that the Long Night is coming, he told us about the food crisis, and he even pointed us in the direction of solving the problem!"
"He treats us as equal allies, not as subordinates to be ordered around at will!"
Lyanna's gaze swept over everyone present.
"My mother taught me, the North remembers."
"We don't forget hatred, but we remember kindness even more!"
"Can you deny it?"
"Since Lord Lynn began ruling the Gift, the Gift has traded frequently with the Seven Kingdoms and even Essos. Which Northern house has not benefited from it?"
"Without Lynn, which Southerner would look us Northmen in the eye?"
"When we most needed help, Lynn shipped countless supplies from Essos. Who among you went crazy exchanging golden dragons for them?"
Wyman Manderly's mouth twitched; this little bear girl was practically calling names.
However, as Lyanna Mormont said, since a large number of merchant ships from Essos arrived in White Harbor, he had indeed profited greatly from it.
But, for Ned's sake, he always treated Lynn as one of his own, allowing Lynn to use the port for free and not taking advantage of the situation to collect taxes or profit from the disaster.
Lynn was not a stingy person either, choosing to return the favor by allowing him to acquire some supplies at a low price to transport to the Seven Kingdoms for secondary high-priced resale.
It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
Lyanna continued.
"Lynn kept our blacksmiths working day and night, forging the finest armor and weapons for his wildling soldiers."
"And for every set of weapons and equipment, Lord Lynn purchased them at the highest price!"
"Since then, who among you has worried about golden dragons?"
All the lords present nodded in unison.
Not long ago, the wildlings were a group of primitive people with barely any clothes, let alone iron tools or even decent leather armor.
This was a huge gap, and even if the entire North made equipment for these wildlings, it would still be a drop in the ocean.
But Lynn had soap, and white sugar was already circulating, so he wasn't short of money at all.
He hired the blacksmiths in their territories at the highest prices.
This also meant that Lynn intended to give back to them.
Moreover, they would have more opportunities for deeper cooperation in the future.
"What Lynn has given us is far more than what he has asked of us!"
"He could have bought our loyalty with golden dragons and fine wine, like those Southern nobles, but he didn't!"
"He used the most sincere attitude to tell us where the crisis lies, and also where the profit lies!"
Lyanna took a deep breath, her small chest heaving violently.
Finally, she looked at Roose Bolton, her voice like a drawn sword!
"Lord Bolton, do you think everyone is fighting only for Lynn?"
"How shallow!"
"My lord, with all due respect, you don't even see as far as a little girl like me!"
"Everyone, think about it, what will be the consequence if Lynn fails?"
"I am not trying to be alarmist, but the next ones will inevitably be all of you present!"
"You only see the blood we are about to shed, but you don't see the future we are about to gain!"
"Your use of so-called 'duty' to measure this war is an insult to Duke Stark's loyalty, and an trampling of the honor of all our Northern warriors!"
"We of House Mormont know only one thing!"
"The North has no king but the King in the North, whose name is Stark."
"But!"
Lyanna suddenly drew the short sword from her waist and raised it high!
"I, Lyanna Mormont, am willing to follow Lord Lynn, to flatten Riverrun, and cut off Frey's head!"
"Not for duty! Not for responsibility!"
"But for kindness! For survival! For the glory of the North!"
"Roar—!!!"
No sooner had Lyanna finished speaking than Greatjon Umber was the first to let out a thunderous roar.
He excitedly jumped onto the table, kicking away the roasted lamb in front of him.
"Well said! Fucking well said!"
"For the glory of the North!"
"Kill those Southerners!"
The entire hall was ignited once again!
This time, it was even more fervent, and even purer than before!
All the lords stood up.
They raised their weapons, responding with earth-shattering roars to the small girl standing on the bench.
In their eyes, there was no longer any doubt, only the wildest battle intent!
Ned and Catelyn watched this scene, dumbfounded.
They watched that figure, appearing incredibly small amidst the embrace of countless strong men, yet like a true goddess of war.
Roose Bolton silently returned to his seat.
A look of extreme gloom appeared on his perpetually pale face.
Not only did he fail to shake Lynn's position, but he also became a stepping stone for Lynn and his future allies, making their alliance even more unbreakable.
He took a deep look at Lyanna, and what dark thoughts were in his heart, perhaps only he himself knew.
Lynn looked at the grim-faced Roose Bolton, and a killing intent also rose in his heart.
House Bolton was the biggest internal enemy in the North, a typical opportunist who might stab people in the back when both sides were at war. They had to be eliminated, and Lynn would not tolerate his bad habits.
However, eliminating them required an opportune moment.
As the current situation became more and more chaotic, Lynn did not believe they could sit still!
One day, they would inevitably reveal their true colors.
That would be their doomsday!
Afterwards, Lynn walked up to Lyanna.
Looking at this small girl, yet one who contained immense energy, a genuine smile appeared on his face.
Lynn extended his hand and solemnly grasped Lyanna's small hand, which was holding the short sword.
"Thank you, Lyanna Mormont."
"From today on, you are my friend."
"Be sure to visit the Gift when you have time, I will treat you well."
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