Just as everyone's expressions changed and they were in a dilemma, a young and excited voice broke the stalemate.
Patrick Morrison, his face flushed, stepped forward and passionately pleaded for battle: "My Lord!"
"Please entrust the most dangerous vanguard to us! The warriors of House Morrison will never disappoint you!"
His heartfelt plea was the last straw, completely extinguishing the last bit of hope for the other leaders. What kind of people were these? It seemed they had no choice but to give up some family property. They could only grit their teeth, bow, and accept the order.
At dawn, under the gray sky, a thin mist hung over the plains outside Daisding City.
According to Arthur's orders, the allied army's front line began to advance slowly, the heavy footsteps and the clanking of armor echoing in the silent morning light.
To bolster their courage, several loud-voiced knights of Daedings Family galloped at the front of the formation, shouting with all their might towards the Ironborn camp in the distance.
"Riverrun's reinforcements are coming!"
"Four thousand strong! They're on their way!"
"The drowned god can't save your lives!"
"We'll bury you in the ground!"
The sound spread across the open plain, clearly reaching the Ironborn camp. Inside the camp, Roderick Greyjoy pushed away the Riverlands woman beside him, grabbed his axe, and rushed out of the tent.
An Ironborn longship captain beside him had a solemn expression: "Four thousand reinforcements?"
"Is the news reliable?"
Roderick snorted: "Reliable or not, we have to treat it as reliable."
"If those Tully bastards really come, our small numbers won't even be enough to get stuck in their teeth."
However, when they climbed the makeshift watchtower and saw the allied army advancing in the distance, most of their tension dissipated. The vassal troops, positioned at the very front and on both flanks, were disorganized, their steps chaotic, and their banners askew, looking like a group of farmers hastily armed.
A hint of disdain flashed in Roderick's eyes: "It seems that Black Lion is nothing special after all."
"To deploy his troops like this."
It was clear that the enemy was no different from those Westeros nobles, placing peasant soldiers with no will to fight at the front to wear down the enemy's strength, without considering whether it would cause a chain collapse.
He quickly made a judgment: although the enemy had many people, they were nothing more than a disorganized rabble, strong in appearance but weak in reality. Only the central army was in good order, but if they charged and the front collapsed, the central army would also find it difficult to maintain stability.
He shouted to the Ironborn who were watching the spectacle:
"Pass down the order!"
"We must break through this group of weaklings before those damn reinforcements arrive! Then we immediately get on the ships and leave!"
The Ironborn did not wait for the allied army to approach and conserve their strength. Instead, accompanied by surging horn blasts and beast-like roars, they displayed their usual ferocity, launching a counter-charge like a tide from their camp. They rushed towards the allied army like a pack of hungry wolves scenting blood.
The vassal troops, who were already harboring ulterior motives and forced into battle, had never seen such a desperate formation. They merely raised their shields and spears symbolically, firing a few sparse arrows. Upon seeing the Ironborn's contorted faces and raised axes, after a brief, bloody exchange, their psychological defenses instantly collapsed.
The peasant soldiers at the very front threw down their pitchforks, crying and turning to flee. The rout spread like a plague, quickly engulfing the entire vanguard.
The leading knights tried to control their troops, but it was futile. They saw the Ironborn already close, while Arthur's central army remained unmoving like a rock, and immediately understood they had become expendable pawns to wear down the enemy's strength.
They cursed, reined in their horses, and retreated without hesitation. On the entire battlefield, the allied army's vanguard instantly disintegrated, forming a torrent of rout, the scene utterly chaotic.
Young Patrick Morrison, with his hundred-plus family soldiers, was still futilely trying to organize a defensive line. He wielded his longsword vigorously, cutting down an Ironborn who rushed before him, and loudly shouted to encourage his subordinates.
But his resistance, in the face of the massive torrent of rout, was like a small stone thrown into a raging current, failing to even stir up a ripple. He was quickly overwhelmed, eventually forced to retreat, fighting as he was swept along by the fleeing soldiers.
After defeating the vanguard, the Ironborn's morale soared. They roared and pursued, attempting to crush the entire allied army in one go.
Arthur, on the high ground behind, watched all of this with indifference. This was exactly the outcome he wanted. His army had already formed neat spear squares in the rear, shields like a wall, spears like a forest, and behind them were the dark muzzles of crossbows, aimed directly at them.
When the Ironborn charged wildly and reached the center of the battlefield, they suddenly found themselves crashing into a wall made of armor and discipline.
The moment the Ironborn rushed within 120 paces, Arthur raised his hand, then sharply brought it down.
Brin looked at the arbalestiers beside him and the troops equipped with simple crossbows, giving the command: "Fire!!"
The crossbowmen simultaneously pulled their triggers. A dense volley of crossbow bolts, capable of piercing the Ironborn's light armor, let out a piercing shriek, like the scythe of death, instantly cutting a swathe of death through the charging Ironborn ranks.
The Ironborn at the very front fell in droves, riddled with crossbow bolts, like hedgehogs.
The Ironborn left dozens of corpses and were forced to stop their pursuit. The fierce charge was abruptly halted by this impregnable defense line.
Seeing that his objective had been achieved, Arthur did not order a counterattack. He had Lucien blow the horn to retreat. Accompanied by the clear sound of the horn, he led his intact central army, along with the scattered remnants who had re-formed, slowly and orderly back to Daintings City.
On the battlefield, the victorious Ironborn erupted in thunderous cheers. They had once again routed an army far outnumbering them. It was a satisfying victory, but after a brief celebration, Roderick calmed down.
Although they had won, the enemy's main force was undamaged. That disciplined army, entirely composed of war crossbows, had left a deep impression on them. More importantly, there was the damned news, "carelessly revealed" by the enemy, that four thousand reinforcements could arrive at any moment.
Roderick immediately made the most rational decision. That night, the Ironborn camp quietly broke camp, boarded their ships under the cover of darkness, and swiftly departed from this troubled land.
The next morning, when the scouts from Daintings City ventured out again, they found the Ironborn camp deserted, leaving only a mess.
In the lord's hall of Daintings City, Lady Roslyn held Little Suleiman's hand tightly, her haggard face filled with tears of excitement: "Little Suleiman, you are the savior of Daedings Family! We will remember your loyalty!"
She ordered a heavy chest to be brought in, filled with glittering gold dragons.
"Here are five hundred gold dragons! Please accept them! This is the reward your family deserves!"
Arthur smiled, had Lucien and others accept the items, and thanked Lady Roslyn profusely. It was a perfect victory that satisfied all three parties.
Daedings Family won; the Ironborn left their lands to raid others'.
Arthur won; he drove away the Ironborn occupying his territory at minimal cost, gaining the lord's reward and immense prestige.
The fleeing Ironborn also won; they achieved victory in a battle and successfully escaped the threat of "encirclement by a large army," continuing to cause chaos and flames elsewhere.
Only the Riverrun reinforcements, who had arrived a day early after a forced march, remained silently uneasy in the empty camp left by the Ironborn. If news of their failure to eliminate this Ironborn force spread, the situation in Seaguard would continue to worsen amidst various rumors.
And now, they no longer knew where to find these Ironborn.
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