The forest was quiet again.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that followed bloodshed.
Corvyn stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching as his men moved among the fallen.
Bolton bodies lay scattered across the snow.
Some half-buried already.
Others staring lifeless into the grey sky.
Ser Halric walked past one of them, nudging the corpse with his boot.
"They won't be troubling us again," he muttered.
Corvyn said nothing.
Victory did not feel like victory.
Not here.
Not like this.
A few Ravaryn men dragged bodies into a single pile.
Others gathered weapons.
Useful steel would not be wasted.
One of the scouts approached.
"My lord."
Corvyn turned.
"How many did we lose?"
The man hesitated.
"Four."
Halric exhaled slowly.
"Could've been worse."
Corvyn nodded faintly.
But his eyes remained distant.
Even four was too many.
The scout continued.
"We also found supplies. Food. Arrows. Enough to last weeks."
Corvyn glanced toward the remnants of the Bolton camp.
"They were planning to stay."
Halric joined him.
"Or expand."
Corvyn nodded.
"Both."
He looked down at the map still tucked into his cloak.
Five camps remained.
Five points in the net.
And now…
They would know.
Halric seemed to read his thoughts.
"They'll feel this one."
"Yes," Corvyn said quietly.
"And they'll respond."
A cold wind swept through the trees, stirring ash from the smoldering fire.
It drifted into the air like black snow.
Corvyn watched it for a moment.
Then he turned to his men.
"We don't stay."
Halric raised an eyebrow.
"Not even to rest?"
Corvyn shook his head.
"No."
He looked toward the deeper forest.
"The longer we remain, the easier we are to find."
Halric gave a slow nod.
"Fair point."
Corvyn stepped forward.
"Gather what we can carry."
His voice was steady.
"Burn the rest."
The men moved quickly.
Flames rose again, consuming what remained of the Bolton camp.
Smoke climbed into the sky.
A signal.
A warning.
A message.
Corvyn mounted Shade once more.
He paused briefly, looking back at the burning remains.
A victory.
Yes.
But a small one.
Too small.
Ser Halric climbed into his saddle beside him.
"Where to now?"
Corvyn's gaze shifted toward the unseen depths of the Wolfswood.
"Deeper," he said.
Halric smiled faintly.
"Of course."
Corvyn turned his horse.
The fire crackled behind them.
The smoke rose higher.
And the war in the North moved forward—
One shadow at a time.