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A Winterfell infantry soldier taking part in the assault was lucky enough to avoid the attacks of the Bolton defenders. Climbing the siege ladder, he was about to reach the top of the Dreadfort wall.
As soon as he raised his head above the wall, he saw a Bolton soldier holding a stone.
The two froze for a split second.
In the next instant, they reacted at the same time.
The Winterfell soldier's longsword pierced through the Bolton defender's chest.
But the Bolton's stone came crashing down onto his face.
The brave Winterfell soldier cried out as he fell from the ladder.
But the next Winterfell soldier seized the brief opening in the defense and jumped onto the wall.
The third.
The fourth.
Gradually, a small group of Winterfell soldiers managed to secure a foothold on that section of the wall, beginning brutal close-quarters combat against the Bolton defenders.
"Advance!"
Roose, who stood near the stone stairway inside the wall, immediately noticed the breach.
With a simple motion of his hand, he ordered the Bolton soldiers waiting in formation on the stairs to move forward.
They rushed fiercely toward the Winterfell soldiers who had climbed up.
Thick blood ran across the stone.
Severed limbs with exposed bone were scattered everywhere.
That section of the wall looked like an overcrowded slaughterhouse.
Winterfell soldiers kept climbing without stopping.
Meanwhile, Bolton defenders remained lined up along the inner stairway, ready to fill any breach.
'All this time, I've seen no sign of Rickard's cavalry. But a few hundred riders won't change the outcome.'
Even with the breach still open, Roose remained calm.
After reaching his conclusion, he gave an order to the attendant beside him:
"Inform Locke to begin the attack. And prepare the cavalry inside the castle as well."
About a kilometer from the battlefield, in a hilly area, Locke's forces were already prepared.
As soon as they received Roose's order, they began moving quickly toward the rear of the allied camp.
As one of Roose's most trusted subordinates, Locke possessed extensive military experience.
He had carefully planned how his forces would attack.
Once within range, five hundred heavily armored cavalry would lead a frontal charge.
With their immense impact force and strong protection, a single charge would be enough to completely break the enemy line.
Another five hundred light cavalry would split into two wings and sweep around the flanks.
Once the heavy cavalry tore open the enemy line, they would strike like sharp blades, cutting through the enemy army.
Finally, the three thousand infantry would advance to encircle and eliminate the fleeing enemies.
THUMP THUMP THUMP
As Locke's thousand cavalry advanced, the thunder of hooves echoed toward the allied camp.
However, when the soldiers guarding the camp saw the Bolton reinforcements approaching in force, they showed no sign of panic at all.
"WOOO! WOOO! WOOO!"
Three consecutive horn blasts sounded as a prearranged signal.
The tents in the rear half of the camp were suddenly thrown open.
From within them emerged numerous Winterfell soldiers.
At the same time, the transport wagons positioned at the far end of the camp were pulled aside.
Mounted on those wagons were newly built structures, defensive wooden obstacles similar to ancient chevaux-de-frise.
These consisted of crossed logs arranged in an "X" formation, reinforced with iron spikes.
After setting the defenses in place, the soldiers bearing the direwolf insignia quickly formed an organized defensive line.
The first row of spearmen stood atop the wagons, holding their spears horizontally.
The metal tips gleamed under the sun.
The second row braced their spears against the wooden obstacles, their bases planted into the ground, angled toward the rapidly approaching Bolton cavalry.
Watching everything from the walls of the Dreadfort, Roose immediately noticed the Winterfell soldiers who had suddenly appeared in the allied camp.
He had no idea how they had managed to avoid the scouting patrols.
Even so, he believed his house's heavy cavalry would crush that defensive formation.
Still, for the first time, a faint sense of unease crept into his chest.
Locke could not clearly see what was happening inside the enemy camp.
He only noticed that obstacles had been placed ahead.
In his view, under the charge of heavy cavalry, those pieces of wood would be easily shattered.
And there was no time to stop and observe carefully.
As they entered attack range, the heavy cavalry began to pick up speed.
The light cavalry on the flanks also began their maneuver.
Behind them, the infantry charged forward with raised swords.
However, compared to the cavalry, their speed was much slower, and their formation began to break apart almost immediately.
"Spearmen, hold the line! Archers, move to the left flank! Prepare your bows and aim at the enemy cavalry on the left!"
At the rear of the Winterfell formation, Theon, fully armored, gave orders with an excited expression.
It was the first time he had commanded a force of over a thousand men.
"Theon, you forgot to give the signal."
Owen, beside him, reminded him calmly.
"Ha! Owen, good thing you reminded me."
Soon after, a column of black smoke rose from the rear camp.
The battle at the rear of the allied army had begun.
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE
The five hundred heavy cavalry charged forward like thunder toward the defensive line.
Ninety meters.
Eighty meters.
Seventy meters.
Suddenly, the horse of the leading rider collapsed into a hidden pit.
The animal slammed violently into the ground, letting out a pained whinny.
Another rider behind him couldn't stop in time and met the same fate.
Like a chain reaction, more heavy cavalry began to fall.
The pits had been carefully concealed with branches and snow.
Even so, the riders were skilled.
Except for those too close to react, the others managed to control their mounts and avoid some of the traps.
But there were too many of those pits in that short stretch.
By the time they reached the wooden obstacles, they had already lost forty to fifty men.
"Heh… those horse-trap pits Robb had the logistics unit dig overnight worked pretty well."
Theon commented with a grin as he watched the riders fall.
"Yes… but it's not a very honorable method."
Young Owen replied in the tone of a traditional noble.
"You should already know this. On the battlefield, any method that works is a good method."
Theon rolled his eyes.
"They're coming. I'm heading forward."
Owen didn't reply.
With a serious expression, he lowered his visor and stepped toward the front line of spearmen.
Facing the imminent clash, Theon also dropped his casual attitude.
He lowered his visor and fixed his gaze ahead.
BANG! CRACK!
The force of the heavy cavalry charge was no joke.
Like a massive living battering ram, they slammed into the wooden obstacles.
The obstacles shattered immediately.
The improvised spikes could not pierce the heavy iron armor.
But the impact was transferred to the horses in the front line.
With their chests crushed, several horses collapsed to the ground, coughing blood.
The heavy riders atop them were thrown down, immediately trampled by the horses charging behind them.
One Bolton rider managed to pierce a Winterfell spearman standing on a wagon.
But in the same instant, multiple spears impaled both him and his horse.
They were left skewered together like broken dolls.
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