A perfectly good "date" thus ended on an unhappy note.
Jon and the others could not quite make out what Kal was thinking, but none of them spoke, each maintaining the silence proper to their station.
After so many such occasions, they had already grown accustod to placing their trust in their king.
All the more so when he was a man suspected of being an incarnation of the Seven.
And as ti passed, Kal too seed to lose his interest in sightseeing. The party then returned to their own encampnt.
"Your Majesty, regarding tomorrow's battle, should we make so preparations?"
After the attendants finished clearing away Kal's dining plates, Jon—who had arrived not long ago and had been waiting to one side—stepped forward and asked in a low voice.
During the ti Kal had returned to the camp and taken his al, Lady Arwyn Oakheart and the others had already prepared a pre-battle council. They had reminded Jon to inform the king, which was why he was here.
Hearing Jon's reminder, Kal raised his head and glanced at him. He set down the napkin with which he had wiped his mouth and rubbed his chin.
After thinking it over, he waved his hand and said, "Very well. As it happens, I was planning to give you a task as well."
"I await your command."
At those words, Jon imdiately straightened up, his expression solemn.
"That will do," Kal said with a smile as he rose to his feet, strolling to the entrance of the tent and lifting the flap to glance outside.
People moved constantly through the military camp. Even knowing that they were about to face an enemy two or three tis their own number, the soldiers showed no great sign of panic.
Taking all of this in, Kal nodded with satisfaction.
Only then did he continue, "This task is very important. I want to see how you perform. You would do well to be ntally prepared."
After saying this, Kal finally let the tent flap fall and turned to look at Jon, his tone becoming much more solemn.
Seeing that the matter did not seem simple, Jon instinctively grew tense.
"Your Majesty, what do you wish to do?"
Jon rembered that the last ti Kal had entrusted him with a task, it had been to deliver a gift to House Martell.
That gift had been the Mountain's head.
After that, many things had happened.
It was also after that incident, upon returning to King's Landing, that he had learned of his true identity.
Although not much ti had passed, why did it feel as though a very long ti had gone by?
Thinking of this, Jon could not help but sigh inwardly—this was a secret shared between himself and Eddard Stark.
Kal, however, had no idea that Jon had thought of so many things in such a short span of ti.
Facing the tense Jon, he rely shrugged with a relaxed expression.
"Do not be nervous. The task is very simple."
"I only need you to go eat sothing first. Then you are to gather Lady Arwyn Oakheart and the others. As for exactly which people, I do not care—this is sothing you must decide for yourself."
"Because the upcoming eting will be presided over by you. Throughout the entire process, I will only listen. I will not answer any of your questions, nor will I give you any advice."
"That is the task I am giving you. Do you understand?"
"If you understand, then go eat sothing first. I will wait for you here."
Hearing this without any ntal preparation, the seriousness that had been on Jon's face caused his eyes to widen little by little.
His first reaction was disbelief, followed imdiately by a sharp tightening in his chest, as if he were about to be unable to breathe.
Because if he had not misheard, Kal's aning was that he intended to hand the coming war over to him.
He had never imagined that at such a critical mont, Kal would suddenly step aside and throw all the burden onto his shoulders. This instantly threw him into panic.
"What? I'm to fight this war?"
"Y-Your Majesty, th-this…"
The flustered youth looked utterly panicked, nearly unable to get the words out.
A massive war involving tens of thousands of n, one that concerned the political balance of the dynasty and the situation of the Seven Kingdoms, was being so casually handed to him by the king standing before him.
It was not as though he did not know how important this war was.
Yet at such a mont, the king was placing a war that could decide the future of the kingdom into his hands.
What virtue or ability did he, Jon White Wolf, possibly possess to be capable of such a thing?
If this was not sheer madness, then what was it?
At that mont, Jon almost wished that the task Kal had given him was to go slay a dragon—at least that way, he would die more cleanly, and with greater clarity.
But faced with Jon—his face flushed red, so anxious he was nearly in tears—Kal rely wore a cold smile and patted him on the shoulder.
"You must trust yourself, Jon. If you truly fear that you cannot manage it, I suggest you bring Lord Randyll Tarly along as well."
"From this mont on, you must learn how to beco a qualified leader. This is a talent you were born with."
"Lord Eddard Stark could do it, and so can you. If you still feel that you are not up to it, then first learn what it ans to recognize and make use of capable people, and to listen well."
"I look forward to seeing you handle this."
"So from this mont onward, Ser Jon White Wolf, I formally appoint you—acting in my capacity as your king—as the overall commander for the assault and defense of Highgarden. I look forward to your performance."
Patting Jon on the shoulder once more, Kal brushed past him, found his own reclining chair, lay down, closed his eyes, and began to sleep.
It was an utterly brazen manner of leaving everything unattended, as though to say that Jon would simply have to deal with it himself.
Seeing that Kal did not seem to be joking, Jon stood there hesitating several tis before finally forcing down his unease, biting his lip, and turning to leave the tent.
Whether the king was joking or not, his only choice now was to steel himself and press on.
The eting that followed unfolded exactly as Kal had said: he neither spoke nor uttered a word, rely observing the entire ti with a smile on his face, as though he were nothing more than a decorative ornant.
At the eting, Jon made sure that everyone he felt he could summon had the chance to speak and offer suggestions. Yet whenever people's gazes instinctively turned toward the king, Kal still sat there with his eyes half-closed, wearing an unhurried, leisurely expression.
Randyll Tarly, who had been awakened from a wooden cell and brought here, learned of the situation and then saw that Kal truly did not intend to intervene in the slightest, just as he had said.
For the sake of his own calculations and original intentions, he had not wanted to offer counsel or speak at all. Yet when the eting reached its midpoint, he ultimately failed to hold onto his patience.
The mont he spoke, Jon visibly let out a breath of relief.
Kal, seated to the side, rely lifted his eyelids to glance at him once, then continued listening in.
And faced with the king's obvious intention to temper and train Jon, those present were not sparing with their own thoughts.
Thus the pre-battle council carried on under Jon's tense expression until nightfall. ticulous in every detail, he even had the maester write down every single task that needed to be done as a morandum, so as to remind himself later.
As for Kal, he had long since fallen asleep.
...
Ti passed in a blink, and the sky gradually brightened.
By then, the great armies of both sides had already assembled at the agreed-upon battlefield, facing one another.
At a glance, the enemy's numbers were indeed formidable. A force of more than thirty thousand n stretched out into a long formation, its montum overwhelming.
On Kal's side, even after incorporating the forces of Randyll Tarly, their numbers had only just reached a scale of roughly fifteen thousand n.
They were outnumbered by more than half.
As the battle drew nearer and the tension mounted, Jon still could not restrain himself and ca to Kal's side.
"Your Majesty…"
Kal, of course, knew what Jon had co for.
He did not look at him. He simply sat atop a large rock, arms folded, head tilted upward as he gazed at the sky.
At this mont, Kal was not only dressed in brocade robes, he was not even mounted on a horse. It was as though the place where he stood was not a battlefield at all, but an outing in the countryside.
As for Jon's arrival, Kal rely said calmly, "The agenda of your eting yesterday was very thorough. Lord Randyll Tarly is quite capable. You may try listening to his suggestions."
"However, I must remind you that as the commander, you must also have ideas of your own."
"Once you sit in this position, you must always clearly understand that you are the one who makes the decisions. Therefore, you must be clear about your purpose, and about what your will is."
"Go. Set your mind at ease. This victory was already decided from the very beginning."
From the mont he awoke, Kal had been staring at the sky above, as though there were so beautiful sight to behold there.
Jon instinctively followed his gaze and looked up at the sky as well, yet discovered nothing.
There was only blue sky and white clouds drifting leisurely.
Having co only to receive advice like this, Jon finally abandoned his earlier intentions altogether.
Casting a glance at the king—who today seed to have deliberately changed into a blue-green brocade robe—he perford a subdued salute and turned to leave.
On the way back, he quickly gathered himself, forcing the unease from his expression and returning it to calm.
There was no room left to turn back. The only thing he could do now was press on.
"Commander!"
Seeing him arrive, Arys Oakheart—who had likewise been thrown by Kal to Jon as a beast of burden—hurriedly stepped forward to greet him.
The remaining n imdiately followed suit.
Even Sandor Clegane, the Hound, gave a curt nod.
Jon glanced at them, then cast another look toward the king standing on the high ground not far away. He cleared his throat lightly, tugged on the reins, and turned back around.
"Advance!"
With the order given, the great army began to move.
Although that man—steady as a pillar that held the sea in place—was rely watching the battle from the sidelines, for those soldiers who had witnessed miracles with their own eyes, and who clearly knew how effortlessly the king had defeated famous generals renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms, their morale remained high all the sa.
In the wind, banners stread and fluttered. Aside from the jeweled river banner representing Kal and the crowned stag banner of House Baratheon, this battle also saw the addition of the white direwolf banner of House White Wolf.
The vast host surged forward across the plain, producing a thunderous rumble.
The infantry advanced head-on, while the cavalry road continuously along both flanks and even to the rear, waiting at all tis for their orders to be delivered.
Seeing that Kal's side truly showed no fear of war, House Tyrell and the others at Highgarden also began to march in unison.
Upon the battlefield—long since cleared—the north wind swept across, carrying with it a tense, desolate chill.
"At last, it's here."
Kal, who had been observing the heavens since morning, suddenly let a faint smile curl at the corner of his mouth and spoke softly.
His voice was like an unquestionable decree. As soon as the words fell, they scattered with the wind.
On the battlefield, both sides' soldiers—having already reached suitable positions—ford up. The long spears they held aloft were imdiately lowered, resting upon the shoulders of the comrades before them.
Suddenly, a sharp, urgent blast of horns rang out from within the ranks. The formations that had been advancing at a asured pace halted at once. The shield-bearing troops at the front swiftly raised their shields, angling them upward toward the sky.
A few seconds later, a sudden, rapid sound like pounding rain burst through the air, and the sky overhead abruptly darkened.
"Defend!"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
Thud, thud, thud…
A rain of arrows fell. Aside from a few truly unlucky n struck by stray shafts slipping through imperfect gaps, the vast majority of the arrows were claid by shields and the ground around them.
As for the wounded, pairs of hands seized them by the back of the collar and dragged them out of the formation. Those responsible for logistics hurried forward, quickly carrying these "obstructions" away.
At the center of the army, seeing the formation withstand the enemy's attack just as he had anticipated, Jon swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and finally let his tension ease a little.
Though everything had been rushed, and he himself had never before faced such a massive and formal war, fortunately, Randyll Tarly's n were experienced. After pushing these arrangents down to the lower levels of command, the results had indeed been significant.
"There's more to co—but it's also ti for us to strike back."
At that mont, Garlan Tyrell, who was likewise at Jon's side, suddenly spoke up.
The expression on his face was strange—caught between hesitation and distress.
Yet he still stood there.
Jon glanced at him instinctively, then quickly refocused his attention on the fighting ahead.
Sure enough, taking advantage of the brief lull after the arrow barrage, two mixed formations of archers and infantry on the flanks slightly behind the main infantry line imdiately advanced.
Having identified the enemy archers' points of attack, they swiftly occupied open ground that had not been struck, quickly drawing their bows and nocking arrows.
Amid the whoosh-whoosh of flying arrows, the archers on Kal's side returned fire against the enemy.
During this process, with cover provided by the archers on the right flank, the infantry formation continued to advance with shields raised.
Thus, after both sides exchanged blows back and forth for a ti, the battle line was pushed into a sensitive, critical position.
Signal flags waved, and horns sounded.
In the span of a single instant, the infantry who had reached their designated positions seized their weapons, abandoned their formations, and charged forward at speed, shouting as they went.
Mirroring Kal's side, Highgarden's forces executed the sa arrangent.
If one could look down from high above at this mont, it would be plainly visible that two torrents of different colors were crashing into one another, rging into a single mass.
Blood burst forth without restraint, while screams, wails, and curses rang back and forth.
Jon was not on the front line.
Yet when the infantry of both sides collided and beca entangled, tension once again crept into his expression.
No matter what, the fact remained indisputable: on the battlefield, Kal's forces were indeed fewer in number.
Although at this mont the two sides had only just collided and nothing was yet obvious, when viewed as a whole, the enemy was in fact showing signs of an encirclent.
"Right-wing cavalry, move out. Divide into three detachnts. Two will strike the enemy formation according to plan to split it, coordinating with the infantry's advance."
"The remaining detachnt is to harass and maneuver, creating space for our right wing."
"If the enemy cavalry also moves, the left-wing cavalry is to act imdiately. Divide into two groups. One will et the enemy cavalry head-on, but only to draw them in. The other will slow its movent and lag behind. At the mont the enemy cavalry is successfully lured in, the rear cavalry will separate from the vanguard and cut them off at the waist."
"Once we gain an advantage, all rear-wing cavalry will move together to support the left wing. We will open the situation from the left and seize a local advantage on the battlefield!"
Watching the developnt of the battle before him, Jon remained extrely tense, yet at the sa ti calmly issued his commands.
Upon receiving his orders, Arys Oakheart, Garlan Tyrell, and Ser Balon Swann responded at once, swiftly heading toward the cavalry units each was responsible for.
Three of the cavalry detachnts had been planned from the outset to be led by them.
As for the cavalry at the rear wing, it was under the command of Sandor Clegane. He had not moved yet. Although Jon had already issued the order, the situation at present was still unclear, and the rear-wing cavalry could not move for the ti being.
On the high hill, Kal was no longer gazing at the sky, nor was he sitting upon the rock.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, quietly observing the battle below as commanded by Jon.
Although this was Jon's first ti commanding a major battle with roughly fifty thousand troops on both sides combined, it was clear that he truly had talent.
The more tense the mont, the better his performance beca.
Kal did not know the enemy's specific tactics, but having observed yesterday's eting, as he looked at the situation unfolding on the battlefield before him, he could also see that Jon's responses were indeed steady and appropriate.
At the very least, the anticipated tactics were being executed, and the rhythm of command was also quite solid.
When, on the battlefield below, the central infantry appeared to be on the verge of suffering a disadvantage, the left-wing cavalry imdiately split into three detachnts and moved out.
One detachnt road and harassed, guarding against enemy cavalry attacks, while the remaining two quickly cut into the Tyrell side's infantry formation. They did not press deeply, instead biting off a piece and imdiately withdrawing.
The three cavalry detachnts maintained a constant sense of being just within reach yet just out of reach.
Although the damage they caused was not great, they did indeed check the enemy's intentions and opened up space for the encirclent by the right-wing formation, allowing the infantry to catch their breath.
Naturally, the enemy did not remain idle in response to the movent of these three cavalry units.
Very quickly, they likewise dispatched cavalry to counter them, but in that fleeting mont, Jon's command objective had already been achieved. The three detached cavalry units instantly rged into a single force.
They did not engage directly. Instead, they kited the enemy cavalry, denying them any opportunity to counterattack.
Yet whenever the enemy showed signs of slowing down, they imdiately closed in with threatening maneuvers, forcing that cavalry force into unfavorable exchanges and making them suffer a stifling loss.
And the most brilliant part was still the left wing.
Seeing their own cavalry already deployed, the Highgarden side sent out all of their cavalry at once.
The mont this movent was observed, the left-wing cavalry force under Jon's command imdiately took action.
Two cavalry units advanced, one acting as a baiting vanguard, the other following half a beat behind as a rearguard.
Then, at the very instant the two cavalry forces were about to collide, the vanguard cavalry imdiately wheeled their horses around, making a sharp turn and putting on the appearance of fleeing.
Instinctively, the opposing cavalry spurred their mounts and gave chase at once.
Before anyone realized it, both cavalry forces had been drawn into a wide arc.
At that mont, the cavalry detachnt on Kal's side that served as the rearguard deliberately lagged half a beat behind. With the vanguard providing cover, a gap was instantly opened along the flank.
Seizing this advantage in a split second, the rearguard cavalry that had intentionally slowed down imdiately launched a full-speed charge, striking straight at the exposed vital point of the enemy's formation.
However, the battlefield changed in the blink of an eye. The mont Jon saw that the left-wing tactic was succeeding—just as the vanguard had finished luring the enemy into the turn—he imdiately drew out the largest rear-wing cavalry regint and sent it charging forward at full speed to support the battle on the left wing.
"Not bad. Randyll Tarly truly lives up to his reputation as a great commander—he really knows how to fight a war. And Jon, too, is just as keen and decisive in grasping the situation."
"With things like this, I can finally set my mind at ease."
As both an observer and soone fully in the know, although the war had only just begun and was not yet over, Kal had already seen the outco.
If nothing unexpected occurred, once Jon truly opened up the situation on the left wing, this battle would already be half won.
On an open plain battlefield, when infantry formations clash head-on to fill the lines, these knightly lords are all absolute kings.
What if the enemy has greater numbers? They can still be slaughtered like dogs.
And given the current situation—Highgarden's cavalry responding in haste and lacking any real defensive tactics—the left wing gaining the advantage was already a foregone conclusion.
"Since that's the case, it's ti for us to take the stage as well."
"If I rember correctly, Willas Tyrell and that esteed Lord Pufferfish both invited to be their guest, didn't they?!"
Karl said with a broad smile.
The mont his words fell, in the sky—which after days of continuous rain had finally welcod a clear day—there suddenly rang out an ear-splitting dragon's roar.
A dark shadow slowly flew in from the distant sky, glinting faintly with a golden sheen in the morning sunlight.
And it was growing larger and larger.
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