New chapter! Thanks for all the support!
x
As red mist rose from Robb and sank into Bloodwind's body, the desire to kill in Robb's mind gradually calmed.
Since points could be added, and the great battle about to begin would certainly bring no shortage of blood pact points, Robb poured in fifty-six points without hesitation, leaving only one point so he would not weaken before the fighting started.
But this addition to the pack attribute was unusual.
The fifty-six blood pact points sank in like a drop of water entering a calm lake. There was no visible reaction at all.
'Does it need even more blood pact points?'
Robb stroked the smooth fur beneath Bloodwind's neck, guessing at the most likely reason.
Awooo!
Bloodwind, enjoying the touch, lowered his head and saw Robb's thoughtful expression. He stretched out his tongue and licked Robb's palm, then raised his head toward the red comet in the sky and howled.
Lannisport was one of the Seven Kingdoms' most important harbors and the largest city in the Westerlands. In size, it was much smaller than King's Landing and Oldtown, but far larger than Gulltown and White Harbor.
Apart from its excellent location and the prosperity brought by seaborne trade, the harbor city was most famous for producing all kinds of precious goldwork.
House Lannister had remained powerful for many years because it possessed its own particular strengths.
Gold mined from Casterly Rock was transported to Lannisport and made into valuable gold objects, which sold throughout Westeros and even in Essos.
The immense wealth gained from this trade established House Lannister as the richest family in Westeros.
Especially during the decades in which Tywin Lannister ruled the house, the Lannisters' status in Westeros had climbed higher and higher.
For that reason, sayings like "A Lannister always pays his debts" and "Tywin Lannister shits gold" had long since surpassed House Lannister's own words, "Hear Me Roar," in the mouths of common people.
In truth, however, the gold mines of Casterly Rock had been exhausted long ago.
Only fools fixed their eyes on the gold of the Westerlands. Only mediocre men saw House Lannister's wealth and mistook it for the foundation of their power.
Gold was only dead metal. It was only the shell wrapped around House Lannister.
The strength of the entire Westerlands came from Tywin's decades of rule. Nobles and smallfolk alike praised Tywin's greatness and achievements.
Under his powerful rule, he not only raised House Lannister's external prestige, but also brought unity within the family. Unity produced strength.
One could even say this: if not for the influence of foolish descendants, the House Lannister Tywin forged truly might have quietly replaced House Baratheon and become the royal house ruling the Seven Kingdoms.
At Lannisport's harbor, many merchant ships were docked, along with the Lannister fleet.
Because of King Balon's rebellion against Robert years earlier, the ironborn had burned the Lannister fleet to ashes ten years ago.
The current fleet had only been rebuilt in recent years. As for its combat ability, it could barely protect Lannisport from pirates in nearby waters.
A flat-bottomed merchant ship that had paid all manner of taxes and fees departed Lannisport, bound for Gulltown, the Vale's most important harbor.
After passing through the harbor mouth and gradually drawing away from Lannisport, it sailed toward the Shield Islands.
Then, across the entire visible horizon, hundreds of ironborn longships with kraken sails spread wide came rushing toward it at great speed.
Everyone aboard the flat-bottomed merchant ship looked desperate. Even if they turned now, there was no way to avoid the swift longships.
With the captain offering a heavy reward, everyone aboard took up weapons. Resolved to die, they prepared for one last stand.
They had no other choice. The notorious ironborn would not only seize the wealth of merchant ships, but also take the people aboard as thralls.
Any merchant ship that encountered them was bound to fight to the death.
But today was this ship's lucky day.
The ironborn longships covering the sea did not approach to board them. Instead, they sped past on both sides of the flat-bottomed merchant ship.
The merchant captain was staring in confusion at the longships that had left them untouched when a massive warship passed by.
At its bow was a huge gray iron ram shaped like a kraken.
From the tall ironborn warship, an armored giant direwolf looked down upon them like a monster.
Its eyes seemed to be measuring prey, and everyone aboard the merchant ship felt a cold fear rise from deep within, the fear prey felt before an apex predator.
As hundreds of ironborn longships swept past, the merchant captain swallowed nervously and looked toward the direction of Lannisport.
"Quickly! Full speed! Get away from here! Something enormous is about to happen at Lannisport!"
At the Lannisport guard headquarters, Stafford Lannister sat on a comfortable reclining chair and directed his men as they registered new recruits.
He was Tywin's cousin and the younger brother of Tywin's wife, Joanna Lannister.
Tywin knew Stafford had no talent for command. Before marching out with most of the Westerlands' forces, he had arranged for Stafford to recruit and train new soldiers in the Westerlands in case they were needed.
Originally, Stafford should have been recruiting in villages not far from Lannisport.
But Stafford's son, Daven Lannister, was commander of the Lannisport guards.
So Stafford used his son's convenience as an excuse to abandon the poor villages and come to the comfortable guard headquarters in Lannisport to recruit men.
Clang, clang, clang!
A sharp, loud alarm bell rang out. Stafford immediately rose from his chair. This was the warning bell from the harbor tower, and it had not rung for nearly ten years.
It was rung in only one situation: a large enemy force was invading Lannisport.
Stafford had already recruited more than two thousand new soldiers. After a brief hesitation, he ordered his men to gather the recruits, distribute weapons and equipment, and prepare to take them to support the harbor defense.
When he led the loosely formed recruits out of the guard headquarters, normally prosperous Lannisport had fallen into chaos. Merchants ran everywhere clutching goods, and smallfolk fled with their families in tow.
Weeping, cries for missing loved ones, and screams mixed together into a deafening clamor.
Stafford was leading the recruits against the flow toward the harbor. Seeing the road ahead blocked by panicked smallfolk crowding together as they fled, he frowned, drew his sword, and cut forward.
A civilian woman was struck in the neck. A great spray of blood burst from the gaping wound.
When the other smallfolk saw this noble lord draw steel, they screamed and fled into the side streets, clearing the road ahead in an instant.
Stafford had already formed the intent to kill. His hand showed no mercy. In this way, treading a road of blood, he brought the recruits behind him, whose faces were filled with pity and discomfort, to Lannisport's harbor.
There, hundreds of ironborn longships with kraken sails occupied the entire harbor.
On the left bank of the harbor, the sixty or seventy oared warships of the Lannister fleet were now surrounded by more than three times their number of ironborn longships. Countless soldiers were already fighting boarding battles from ship to ship.
Nearly a hundred more ironborn longships, including large warships, were spreading out and landing all around Lannisport's harbor. Judging by the sight, the ironborn had not come merely to plunder. They were preparing to occupy Lannisport entirely.
Stafford saw his son Daven leading nearly two thousand well-equipped Lannisport guards in formation before the harbor, preparing to meet the enemies landing from those near hundred ironborn longships.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
A heavy sound cut through the air. The ironborn's large warships were actually equipped with siege engines like catapults. Dozens of stones the size of millstones flew toward the Lannisport guards arrayed at the harbor.
Bang, bang, bang!
On the rolling sea, the inaccurate catapults struck the guard formation with only a few stones.
Most of the others either smashed into merchant ships of every size docked in the harbor or crashed into shops and buildings behind them, punching millstone-sized holes through walls.
Even so, the flesh-and-blood bodies of the Lannisport guards could never withstand the large stones that did hit them.
Any guard unlucky enough to be struck was left with roughly half a body, the other half turned into a blurred mass of flesh.
The Lannisport guard formation immediately began to show signs of disorder. But it was not over.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
As nearly a hundred ironborn warships rapidly approached, a sharp rush sounded. Arrows that seemed ready to cover the entire sky arced high and fell over Lannisport's harbor like rain.
These arrows were far more accurate than the catapults. The guards covered by the rain of arrows immediately suffered heavy casualties.
In truth, this alone showed that the Lannisport guards had not fought a real battle in a long time, and that their commander had made an obvious tactical mistake.
Their advantage was familiarity with Lannisport. They could have used buildings and streets to fight a mobile urban battle, seizing the terrain in their favor.
Instead, they had formed up at the front like cavalry awaiting a charge. After these two ranged attacks, the guards had lost hundreds of men, and their morale was falling quickly, already showing faint signs of collapse. Bang, bang, bang!
Because all kinds of merchant ships were docked in Lannisport's harbor, the ironborn longships that had not slowed down drove their bow rams straight into those merchant vessels and then used them as bridges to begin landing.
From the distance earlier, Stafford had not seen clearly. Only now did he realize that among the soldiers preparing to land, only a small number were dressed like typical ironborn. Most were actually dressed as northern soldiers.
'Lord Tywin and Lord Kevan are fighting the northmen. How have so many northern soldiers all come to Lannisport?'
Seeing such a large number of northern soldiers, Stafford could not understand what was happening at all.
"Lord Stafford, do we retreat, or..."
Seeing Stafford's blank expression, one of his men spoke to remind him.
Stafford finally reacted. He turned toward the recruits behind him, most of them frightened, and shouted with a face full of grief and fury, "Of course we fight these bastards invading our home to the last drop of blood!
"Warriors of the Westerlands, charge!"
"Charge!"
"Kill!"
Hearing Stafford's roar, the recruits summoned their courage and charged toward the harbor with weapons in hand.
When Stafford saw the man who had reminded him truly about to draw his sword and charge, he grabbed the man's wrist, glanced around, and whispered, "Do you have a death wish? Go call my son back. I will wait for you here. Lannisport cannot be held. We are returning to Casterly Rock."
"Ah... yes, my lord!"
Only then did the subordinate understand Stafford's meaning. He nodded at once and ran toward Daven, who was working hard to reform his formation.
When the man reached the middle of the harbor, a large warship with a huge gray iron ram shaped like a kraken at its bow smashed a small merchant vessel docked there clean in two.
Using the resistance of the broken merchant ship, the warship stopped almost perfectly beside him.
Stafford's man was not harmed by the kraken warship. But a huge black shadow descended from above and landed squarely on him.
Crack!
A crisp sound of shattering bone rang out. The man spat a great mouthful of blood.
With a flash of final strength, he stretched out both hands, trying to push away the giant paw on his caved-in chest. But with all his strength, he could not move it in the slightest. As that strength faded, his hands dropped limply to the ground.
Stafford stared in shock at the armored giant wolf that had trampled his man to death. On the back of that armored wolf sat a fully armed knight holding a greatsword.
Having never seen such a wolf rider, Stafford turned and ran. In his eyes, perhaps only the dragonriders of old Targaryen legend could surpass such a sight.
Robb watched a wisp of red mist rise from beneath Bloodwind and sink into his body.
Sitting high on Bloodwind's back, he looked around the prosperous harbor. On the left, the Lannister fleet had no ability to resist enemies three times their number.
Meanwhile, the seven or eight thousand men he had brought were landing at the harbor head-on and engaging the thousand-odd Lannister soldiers. Judging by numbers alone, it should be a one-sided situation.
For this attack on Lannisport, Robb had used neither a night raid nor any other stratagem. He had attacked openly, directly, and head-on.
Because he knew Tywin had drawn away the overwhelming majority of the Westerlands' forces, leaving Lannisport with at most a few thousand defenders.
War could not always depend on clever maneuvers. A chance this good to overwhelm the enemy by strength was perfect for letting his army assault a position head-on.
And this time, since he was short on blood pact points, he could add points to Bloodwind at any moment. Ever since Bloodwind's loss of control, Robb could finally unleash him without restraint again.
"Bloodwind, see the men wearing that armor? We charge where they are thickest.
"We have held back and stayed cautious for too long. Today, we kill to our hearts' content."
Seeing the overall situation decided, Robb patted Bloodwind's finely made wolf armor and spoke.
Hearing him, Bloodwind, whose killer instinct had already been stirred by blood, launched himself toward Stafford's nearly two thousand recruits with terrifying force.
"Ah! Monster! Everyone, attack the monster behind us first!"
Bloodwind's huge body naturally drew the recruits' attention. One of them immediately shouted.
Among the Lannister recruits, a small portion saw Bloodwind rushing toward them and were so frightened their legs went weak, leaving them standing frozen in place.
Most of the others still managed to gather courage. They raised their weapons and turned to charge back at Bloodwind.
Bang, bang, bang!
Just as the two sides were about to meet, Bloodwind, already used to hiding part of his physical ability, suddenly accelerated and slammed straight into the Lannister recruits before they could react.
Men and weapons flew. Several recruits were struck by Bloodwind and hurled away. The one sent farthest fell directly into the harbor water.
Rip!
Inside the mass of recruits, Bloodwind alternated his giant paws, each tipped with sharp claws, and kept attacking the men ahead.
Those struck by his claws first gained several deep tearing wounds, then were sent flying by the enormous force.
The men who took Bloodwind's claws head-on basically died on the spot, small wisps of red mist rising from their corpses.
Those who did not die at once were still grievously wounded beyond saving, falling to the ground like broken dolls and gasping out their last breaths.
As red mist sank into Bloodwind, Robb, riding on his back, felt strength continuously surge up inside his body.
The length of Ice, the greatsword in Robb's hand, happened to reach the heads of the Lannister recruits.
So any recruit struck by him either had his entire head cut off, or had half or a smaller piece of his head left hanging from the corpse.
One Lannister recruit tried to attack from behind Bloodwind. Sensing it, Bloodwind nimbly turned while thrusting his jaws forward, directly seizing the bold recruit.
Bloodwind tossed the recruit backward into the air with a forceful swing of his head. As the soldier screamed in terror, Ice came chopping down in Robb's hands and cut him in two with a single stroke.
Splash!
Bloodwind quickly carried Robb away from that spot. Only then did the soldier's two halves rain down behind them with a torrent of blood and organs.
Looking at the horrifying slaughter performed by Robb and Bloodwind in concert, the northern soldiers who had seen Bloodwind's might before could still adapt somewhat. They only swallowed quietly to suppress the discomfort brought on by the bloody scene.
One ironborn who had charged with Robb stood frozen where he was, stunned speechless. He kept muttering, "Good thing we are allies. Good thing we are allies..."
Compared with King's Landing or Oldtown, the Lannisport guards responsible for maintaining order were actually known for being well trained.
Because they had not seen war for a long time, they lacked experience, and at the beginning, their concentrated formation had almost been broken by ranged attacks.
But once battle truly became close combat, their strict training allowed them to withstand the impact of the northern soldiers and the ironborn.
After cutting down an ironborn holding a mace, Daven took a moment to glance over the harbor.
"Fall back. There are too many enemies. Return to the streets we know, divide into our usual patrol squads, and fight them there!"
Unlike his father, Daven had real talent for command. Although his lack of war experience had hurt him at the start, he grew quickly. One look let him judge the rough situation and think of the proper response.
After Daven's order spread, the remaining thirteen hundred-odd guards fought while retreating, falling back toward the town streets behind them.
Streams of red mist continued sinking into Bloodwind's body as Robb continued adding points to him as the battle went on.
But the pack attribute was like a bottomless pit. Including the previous fifty-two points, Robb had already invested nearly one hundred and fifty blood pact points, and still there was no reaction.
From another angle, however, this was exactly what Robb wanted to see. It made it easier for him and Bloodwind to use their full strength.
Rip!
Bloodwind killed the recruit before him with one claw. There were no more enemies directly ahead. Robb and Bloodwind, one man and one wolf, had cut straight through the recruits' formation.
Behind them, a small portion of the recruits were still fighting the northern soldiers and ironborn who followed Robb, while the vast majority had thrown down their weapons and were fleeing madly into the town of Lannisport.
In truth, Robb and Bloodwind had personally killed fewer than a hundred recruits. But the way they killed, and the image they presented, was far too terrifying.
Robb sat high on Bloodwind's back, observing the current situation. By now, Lannisport's harbor was basically under the northern army's control.
He looked toward the thousand-odd guards retreating in good order into the town, then spoke to the messenger who had just caught up, panting.
"Pass the order. Lord Rickard and the Greatjon are to lead troops in pursuit of the enemy soldiers retreating into the town. Smalljon and Eddard will take their cavalry and block Casterly Rock.
"Everyone else may plunder freely, then turn over eighty percent of what you seize afterward.
"But they must obey the orders I gave beforehand. No wanton killing. No sexual violence. Anyone who violates military law will be punished.
"Have Crey lead the overseers and inspect them."
x
x
x
If you're enjoying the story so far, consider supporting me on Patreon ❤️
You'll get weekly early access to chapters, along with some exclusive content:
https://www.patreon.com/cw/TheDevotedReader