Red Mountains, Vulture Clan Camp.
A biting mountain wind howled through the barren rock walls, wailing like a banshee.
Since the crushing defeat of the free folk on the west bank of the Torrentine two years ago and the death of the Vulture King, this place had long lost the authority to command the tribes of the Red Mountains.
Once-proud banners were now tattered, flapping weakly in the wind.
Inside the great tent that had belonged to the Vulture King, traces of former glory remained on the sewn animal hides, but the perch where Sharpwing once stood was empty.
Chean, the current leader of the Vulture Clan, sat on a crude wooden chair, fingers drumming incessantly on the armrest.
Like his father, the Vulture King, he possessed a pair of sharp, eagle-like eyes.
Chean scanned the tribal chieftains he had invited, a surge of irrepressible excitement rising in his heart.
Firelight danced on his chiseled face, reflecting the ambition burning in his eyes.
Chean admitted that violating the contract with Starfall—blocking the migration of Regular Mountain Corps families and forcibly detaining the soldiers—was a gamble. But it seemed he had bet correctly.
Starfall's energy and attention had been entirely focused on the tourney. They had not punished or even responded to his breach of contract.
This move had indeed won him considerable prestige among the Red Mountain tribes.
Now that Starfall had begun migrating the families of the Reserve Mountain Corps and announced another expansion of the Corps, his previous hardline stance and attitude were winning the admiration of many chieftains.
At this moment, a dozen tribal leaders sat around the central fire pit, the flickering light illuminating their gloomy faces.
It was a stark contrast to two years ago, when these same chieftains had gathered here under the Vulture King, swords pointed at Vulture's Roost, spiritedly planning to carve up the lands west of the Torrentine.
Now, they hung their heads, venting their grievances to one another.
"Hearing about the expansion of the Mountain Corps, everyone in the tribe is clamoring to join the selection," an old chieftain with a wrinkled face slapped his knee, his voice hoarse.
"If this goes on, all the warriors will leave. Who will hunt? Who will farm? How will the tribe survive?"
He sighed heavily, his cloudy eyes full of worry.
"And those reservists coming back to move their families," another chieftain added, unconsciously rubbing the dagger at his waist.
"Once their families are gone, will they come back to help when the northern tribes attack?"
In the corner, a lean chieftain looked up suddenly, cunning flashing in his eyes.
"The contract of submission stated that Starfall has an obligation to protect us.
Since they aren't fulfilling it, naturally, we don't have to honor the contract either."
"You detained the reservists in your tribe?" someone asked.
"Not just detained," the lean chieftain sneered, revealing yellow teeth. "I gave a few stubborn ones thirty lashes each. Beat them until their skin split."
He spread his hands helplessly. "If I don't, where is my authority? The young men would have run off to Violet Canyon for the selection long ago."
Chean quietly observed the chieftains in the tent, noting each person's reaction.
Just then, the tent flap was thrown open. A figure walked in, silencing the discussion instantly.
The man had white hair and wore the standard uniform of the Regular Mountain Corps.
"Xiong Ni? Why are you here?" a chieftain exclaimed, hand already on his weapon.
"Look at the clothes he's wearing," another chieftain mocked. "No different from that chameleon Stone-Drum."
Chean stood up slowly, pressing his hands down. "Everyone, Chieftain Xiong Ni is here at my invitation."
His voice was steady and powerful. "He is, and always will be, one of us in the Red Mountains. He was my teacher when I was a boy."
Chean walked over to Xiong Ni and patted his shoulder affectionately. "I guarantee with my life that he will not reveal today's matters."
A few chieftains who knew Xiong Ni's temperament nodded in agreement, but more looked at the old man in the Mountain Corps uniform with suspicion.
Xiong Ni remained expressionless. He simply found a corner to sit, letting the firelight play on his wrinkled face.
Chean returned to his seat, raising his voice.
"I heard everyone's dissatisfaction just now regarding Starfall's order to migrate families and recruit our warriors.
That is exactly why I called you here."
He looked around, his gaze piercing.
"I understand your discontent. Our mountain tribes rule differently from the lords below. We value martial prowess over bloodline.
Surely you have all felt it over the past two years. Not only are warriors leaving, but other tribe members are also departing for Starfall's lands and never returning."
"If this continues," Chean slammed his fist on the wooden table, knocking over several cups, "our numbers will dwindle. We will either be swallowed by the northern tribes or die out on our own!"
The chieftains nodded, worry etched on their faces.
Over the past two years, the trade market in Violet Canyon had attracted a large number of their people.
There, trade was fair and free from oppression. Mountain Corps soldiers used their generous pay to buy goods and send them home.
Although living standards had improved greatly, the loss of people who had seen the prosperity of Violet Canyon was becoming severe.
"That is why I stopped the families of the Mountain Corps soldiers from migrating," Chean's voice rumbled like thunder. "We must rise and resist!"
"Resist?" a chieftain's eyes widened. "You mean war?"
"Better to fight than to sit and wait for death!" Chean drew the short sword at his waist, pointing it at the tent roof.
"Have you chieftains lost the courage to fight?"
"We don't lack courage," an older chieftain stood up slowly, touching his empty scabbard.
"What we lack are swords, spears, armor, and warriors who know how to use them."
A cold sneer curled Chean's lips. "I think you're just afraid. The Dornish lords below the mountains are not invincible."
He clapped his hands. The tent flap opened again, and a lean man walked in.
The man had sinister eyes and a twisted scar running from his forehead to his chin.
"This is Cara of the Shadowskin Clan," Chean introduced him with a hint of pride.
"He won the Grand Melee at the Starfall Tourney, the event that best displays martial prowess."
"Shadowskin Clan?" someone exclaimed. "Aren't they from the north?"
"I heard the champion's prize was over a thousand gold dragons."
Ignoring the questions, Chean continued, "Besides the northern free folk tribes represented by Cara, I have also contacted a strong ally."
His gaze swept over the group. "As long as we three parties work together, we can wash away our shame and avenge the free folk who died two years ago!"
Chean drew a dagger and cut his palm, letting blood drip into a bowl of wine before him.
"We swear a blood oath, sign the covenant, and elect a leader to guide the war against Starfall!"
The chieftains looked at each other. Finally, one by one, they stood up, cut their palms, dripped blood into the bowl, and pressed their bloody fingerprints onto the covenant.
As the initiator, Chean was unanimously elected as the leader of the alliance. The chieftains then dispersed to gather their tribesmen and await the summons.
Once everyone had left, Chean turned to the silent Xiong Ni. "Uncle Ni, why didn't you say a word?"
Xiong Ni sighed deeply. "Child, stop this. You can't beat Lord Arthur.
Times have changed. Before the contract of submission, before the Mountain Corps was formed, there might have been a chance.
Starfall today is not what it was. The bandits are gone, the vassals are loyal, and the fortress is secure—an iron bucket.
And the free folk? We were severely weakened by the battle on the west bank. Our warriors have either been recruited by high pay or seduced by the good life in Violet Canyon."
A complicated look flashed in Xiong Ni's eyes.
Chean snorted coldly. "We can win those things back with our strength. If we defeat them..."
"Child, you have never seen Lord Arthur fight."
Xiong Ni interrupted him. A trace of fear flickered in his cloudy eyes, as if he were back on that bloody battlefield.
"I tell you, I saw it with my own eyes. And many of the chieftains who just cheered and swore oaths with you saw it too."
"In the battle on the west bank, Lord Arthur led a cavalry unit and punched through our formation seven times in a row."
Xiong Ni's hands began to tremble uncontrollably. "In the end, even the bravest free folk warriors lost their courage and surrendered at the sight of the Sword and Falling Star banner and the figure wielding dual swords beneath it."
The old man looked up, pain shining in his eyes.
"We fought with all our might that day. The memory is still fresh. And back then, he wasn't even the 'Sword of the Morning' known to everyone in Starfall."
Xiong Ni's voice dropped lower.
"If Lord Arthur's prowess on the battlefield frightens me, his skill in governance and negotiation with the wildlings makes me despair."
He looked straight into Chean's eyes. "Initially, I accepted the invitation to be an instructor with the intent of gradually infiltrating and controlling the Mountain Corps.
But after witnessing the development of Violet Canyon... I now have zero desire to go against Lord Arthur's will."
Chean stared wide-eyed in disbelief, then said urgently:
"Uncle Ni, if you can turn the free folk brothers in the Mountain Corps, we might have a fighting chance."
Xiong Ni shook his head. "You don't understand the training methods of the Mountain Corps. Did any of the three soldiers you detained defect to you?"
A shadow passed over Chean's eyes. None of the three had defected, no matter how he persuaded or threatened them.
"Just as you say," Chean's voice was barely audible.
Suddenly, Xiong Ni asked, "The strong ally you mentioned... is House Blackmont upstream, isn't it?"
Chean stiffened visibly. "How did you know?"
"Your father told me two years ago," Xiong Ni sighed.
"They promised him they would attack Starfall's main force together. But by the end of the war, I hadn't seen a single soldier from them."
The old man's eyes flashed with mockery. "Same trick. This is the second time."
"That... at least that's a way out," Chean said with a last shred of stubbornness.
"A way out?" Xiong Ni sneered. "You know well that mountain tribes are ruled by strength. If you fail or show weakness, your people will not follow you."
He stepped forward, whispering almost into Chean's ear. "Once you lose your value, Blackmont will think of how to silence you, not how to be your way out."
Xiong Ni stepped back, his voice returning to normal. "And those chieftains just now... every one of them curses Stone-Drum as a chameleon.
But behind their curses, is it hatred for his betrayal, or jealousy of his status?
Is it possible they want to be chameleons too, but lack the opportunity?"
"They just swore a blood oath with me!"
Xiong Ni's eyes were full of world-weary wisdom. "Oaths. To some, they are of supreme value. To others, they are worthless."
Chean shook his head. "Uncle Ni, I have no way back."
"Release the three soldiers and their families. Come with me immediately to see Lord Arthur and beg for his forgiveness."
Chean shook his head resolutely. "He killed my father. I cannot ask for forgiveness from my father's killer."
Xiong Ni sighed. Saying no more, he turned to leave the tent.
Just as he was about to lift the flap, the lean Cara suddenly blocked his way.
Outside, several axe-wielding guards stood ready, their blades glinting in the moonlight.
"Uncle Ni, I really have no way back!"
Chean's voice came from behind, tinged with madness.
Xiong Ni turned to question him, but suddenly felt a rush of wind at the back of his head.
Though old, years of combat experience made his body react before his mind. He ducked sharply, narrowly avoiding the ambush.
Anger and shock erupted in the old man's eyes. "Boy, what are you doing?"
He shouted while reaching for the battle axe at his waist.
"You know I won't..."
As he questioned, a crimson dagger silently pierced the back of his neck.
Blood sprayed onto the tent wall, a shocking splash of red. Xiong Ni's eyes filled with disbelief as he watched Chean, who looked equally shocked, collapse weakly.
"What are you doing?" Chean roared, his face pale, voice trembling with shock. "I didn't... didn't want to kill him! Just... just capture him to prevent leaks!"
Cara pulled the dagger from Xiong Ni's neck and wiped it on his Mountain Corps uniform.
"He knew too much. And the old thing was right—many of those chieftains have wavering hearts."
His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Send the old thing's head to every tribe."
"Then send House Blackmont's letters and the covenant to Starfall. Leave the tribes with no choice but to join us in fighting Starfall."
"Either overthrow Starfall's rule and break the Sword of the Morning, or be beheaded one by one by that white greatsword!"
"You're insane!"
"Haha." Cara laughed suddenly, the sound harsh in the silent night.
"I just don't want to see the free folk tribes of the Red Mountains kneeling in submission like you lot, being eaten alive step by step by the 'Sword of the Morning'."
"Our ancestors were never free folk who knelt. Especially not to weaklings."