"I always felt that sothing was off about this," Nyria said with a serious expression after the Wildling King left.
"Of course, there is," Lynd replied with a hint of disdain. "Dismissing the tribes and having them rally under my banner is a huge decision, yet he agreed to it after barely considering it, without even consulting the elders or leaders of his tribe. It's obvious he never intended to keep his promise."
Nyria reflected on the Wildling King's response, nodded in agreent, and then asked, "If he never planned to keep his promise from the start, could this be a trap? A sche set up in collusion with the Lord of Wyl?"
Lynd considered the possibility before responding, "It's possible, but unlikely."
"Why?" Nyria asked, puzzled.
"Because his hatred for Wyland Wyl is real, not feigned. He truly wants to kill him," Lynd said in a low voice.
"Do we still need to help him take revenge?" Nyria asked.
"Of course. If Wyland Wyl doesn't die, his daughter will be useless," Lynd said, nodding before shifting the subject. "But we won't be directly involved. The Wildling King is Wyland Wyl's bastard son. If he kills him, it's Kinslaying. And as the chosen one of the Seven Gods, how can I condone such a sinful act?"
Nyria frowned in confusion. "If we don't intervene, how will we help the Wildling King take his revenge?"
Lynd smirked. "Let the wildlings deal with the wildlings."
Nyria was montarily taken aback, but soon understood his aning. "You want to use the other wildling tribes?"
Lynd nodded but said nothing more.
Nyria then asked, "Who are you planning to marry Wyland Wyl's daughter to?"
"Why would I have her marry anyone?" Lynd replied with a smile.
"Well..." Nyria had just begun to question him when she caught sight of his expression and suddenly realized sothing. "You haven't set your sights on taking Wyl Castle?"
"My current territory is already vast enough. Managing it properly takes considerable ti and effort. Adding Wyl Castle would only bring more trouble without offering any real benefits," Lynd said calmly. "Instead of directly ruling it, it's better to install a suitable Lord there."
"Do you think she would be suitable?" Nyria asked, skeptical.
"It doesn't matter whether she's suitable, as long as she's not completely incompetent," Lynd said dismissively. "And no matter how bad she might be, she can't be worse than the Wildling King."
Nyria was taken aback. "The Wildling King? What does he have to do with this?" She couldn't understand the connection between the Wildling King and the Lord of Wyl. Though the Wildling King was Wyland Wyl's son by blood, he was a bastard and a wildling—no kingdom would ever allow a wildling to beco a noble lord.
Lynd smiled and turned to her. "Describe the Wildling King's appearance for ."
Nyria hesitated before answering. "He's very tall, with blue eyes and brown hair..." She trailed off after listing just a few traits, unable to recall any other distinct features.
"Only one of the three characteristics you ntioned is correct. He does have blue eyes." Lynd smiled as he corrected her. "His stature only appears large. In reality, his boots are padded, and his actual height is closer to Lothor’s. As for his brown hair, it's dyed with a special potion. If you look closely at the roots, you'll see that it's actually red."
"Why would he do that?" Nyria asked, puzzled.
Lynd spoke slowly. "Imagine this—if Wyland Wyl dies, and we take his daughter to Wyl Castle, demanding she inherit his title and lands, what happens if a man appears and claims to be Wyland Wyl's son?"
Nyria was stunned, looking at Lynd in surprise.
Lynd continued, "If Wyland Wyl could secretly raise a daughter, there's nothing strange about him secretly raising a son. That man could even claim that the daughter was rely a decoy, soone Wyland Wyl deliberately used to protect his real heir."
Nyria's expression shifted as realization dawned. "If he shaves his entire body and reveals his true appearance, coupled with the changes in height and hair color… If I hadn't known beforehand, I probably wouldn't recognize him even if he stood right in front of ." She paused, then added, "In that case, he must also have so solid evidence to prove his identity."
"Yes, and it's real," Lynd said in a low voice. "I suspect the evidence he's prepared for the woman is either fake or flawed."
"No," Nyria shook her head. "I think the proof of her identity might be real as well."
"Why?" Lynd asked, frowning in suspicion.
"When we receive the docunts, we'll definitely verify their authenticity. Forging those kinds of records is extrely difficult. If they're discovered to be fakes, not only will it ruin his plan, but we would also turn against him." Nyria picked up a jug and poured a glass of water for Lynd as she analyzed the situation. "We could even take both the woman and her proof of identity straight to Wyl Castle. If we do that, he’ll lose his greatest leverage. The Wildling King is smart—he must have thought of this. That’s why the proof of identity he presents must be real and flawless."
Lynd took a sip of water and hesitated. "If that’s the case, how does he plan to claim Wyl’s lands and title?"
Nyria smiled. "It’s simple. As long as his proof of identity is also real, and he outranks her in the line of succession, that’s all that matters."
Lynd realized his mistake—he had been focusing only on the authenticity of the evidence, but succession rights were the key issue. Compared to his own initial speculation, Nyria’s inference made far more sense.
The unexpected appearance of the Wildling King forced Lynd to adjust his plans. The following day, he moved his forces from the temporary camp beneath Gale Tower to a village near the Bone Bridge.
This village had been burned down by n sent from Wyl Castle. The remaining villagers had been driven back into Wyl’s territory, though a few had managed to escape by hiding in cellars or fleeing into the nearby mountains.
When Lynd and his n arrived, the survivors were terrified, believing the soldiers of Wyl had returned.
Only when they saw Lynd’s red banner, emblazoned with a long sword, did they realize these were not Wyl's n. When they saw that Lynd's troops were making no moves to harm them, they cautiously erged from hiding.
The villagers were young—none older than their teens. The youngest was still an infant, cradled in his sister's arms.
Lynd took them in for the ti being, recruiting a few of the older ones to work with him. He then ordered Lothor to take them, along with a group of cavalry, along the coastline to all the villages Wyl had previously claid. Their task was to announce Lynd's authority as Lord of the land and summon the village chiefs or elders to Bone Bridge for a eting.
While Lynd and Nyria discussed the eting’s agenda and how to consolidate control over the villages, Dacey suddenly burst through the door, panting.
"My lord, the people across the bridge have withdrawn!"
Lynd and Nyria were montarily stunned before exchanging knowing smiles.
Lynd was genuinely surprised by Wyl’s reaction. To be honest, when he had issued his threats on the bridge, he hadn’t expected Wyland Wyl to yield so easily—to abandon Bone Bridge and the Serpent Fang Tower at the other end without resistance.
He had fully prepared for war, summoning the village heads and elders to unify the rear and prevent being caught in a disadvantageous position during battle with Wyl.
But never had he anticipated that Wyland Wyl would concede so quickly, complying with such harsh demands in less than a day.
Considering the distance between Wyl Castle and Bone Bridge, the knight who had delivered Lynd’s ssage likely didn’t even reach Wyl Castle until that morning. The only way Wyl’s forces could have withdrawn so quickly was if Wyl Castle had sent orders using a raven, as though they were afraid of missing the opportunity—afraid that if they delayed, Lynd would declare war.
This only reinforced what Lynd already suspected: the previous loss of over a thousand n had crippled Wyl.
Lynd and Nyria led their n across the Bone Bridge once more. Just as Dacey had reported, all of Wyl’s garrison soldiers were gone. Even Serpent Fang Tower, which stood beside the bridge, was empty. Many household belongings remained inside, left behind in the soldiers' hasty retreat.
"Organize the camp and have the master mason inspect the terrain. I want a bridgehead built here," Lynd said, glancing briefly at the area before turning to Jon and giving his orders.
"Imdiately?" Jon asked.
"Build a simple one with wood first, and once we've secured the territory, construct a proper one," Lynd instructed, pointing at the area surrounding the Bone Bridge. "Start by planning the foundation. Hire workers from the villages on the other side of the river. Rember—hire them, don't just take them."
"Understood, my lord," Jon nodded.
After giving his orders, Lynd and Nyria walked around the area before returning to the village camp on the northern shore.
"Where is Glory? We haven't seen the big guy since last night," Nyria asked, her sharp eyes noticing the absence.
"It's on a mission and won't be back for a few days," Lynd replied.
"On a mission?" Nyria hesitated before making a guess. "The Wildling King?"
Lynd nodded with a smile.
Since the previous night, Glory had been tracking the Wildling King under Lynd's orders. It followed as they bypassed the watchtowers and fortresses of Blackhaven, using a narrow, dry mountain stream as a hidden path, leading them to a secluded valley.
Inside the valley, hundreds of densely packed tents stood clustered together. Adults and children walked among them, and altogether, there were thousands of people. Judging by the totems erected beside the tents, these tribes belonged to the Stone Mountain Tribe, led by the Wildling King, Hamir.
Most believed that Hamir and his tribes were still in the mountains near Sumrhall, locked in a standoff with the tribal alliance in a battle that would determine the fate of the Red Watch clan.
But against all expectations, the Wildling King had already led his Stone Mountain Tribe past Blacksteel’s multiple layers of defenses and reached this valley, not far from Blackhaven.
If he launched an attack on Blackhaven at this mont, Blackhaven Castle itself would not fall, but the town below would likely suffer heavy casualties.
Glory stopped tracking just outside the valley camp, then climbed to a vantage point to determine the exact location of the Wildling King's tent within the camp.
When night fell, Glory's fur darkened to black, blending into the shadows. Moving silently, it slipped past the patrolling wildling warriors and infiltrated the camp, making ita way swiftly to the Wildling King’s tent.
Lynd, sensing the spirit ssage from Glory, possessed his body, using Glory's eyes and ears to observe the scene inside.
Inside the tent, the Wildling King was gathered with his subordinates, assigning tasks. They spoke in their native tongue, which Lynd did not understand, but from their tones and expressions, it was clear they were arguing over sothing.
However, there were certain words in their language similar to the common tongue, and from these, Lynd was able to piece together that the argunt was about migration. It seed that the Wildling King intended to relocate the entire Stone Mountain Tribe to the uninhabited land west of Boneway, known as Vulture's Roost.
Not all of his subordinates agreed with the move, but their objections were swiftly overruled by the Wildling King, a testant to his authority within the tribe.
After finalizing his orders for the relocation, he dismissed the larger group, keeping only a few trusted followers behind.
Then, lowering his voice to avoid being overheard by the rest of the tribe, he switched to the common tongue and instructed his closest subordinates to return to the other tribes near Sumrhall that had pledged loyalty to him. He ordered them to bring back those who remained faithful and to abandon the rest, leaving them to continue facing the tribal alliance alone.
Once all the orders were given, the Wildling King retrieved a bottle of potion from a chest and applied it to his skin and hair.
Then, picking up a flask from the table, he drank deeply, while at the sa ti pulling several parchnt scrolls from another chest and leafing through them.
After traveling non-stop for a day and a night and having spent the evening explaining his plans to his subordinates, exhaustion quickly overtook him. The effects of the alcohol only hastened the process. Perhaps believing he was safe and knowing that his subordinates—the wildlings—were illiterate, he left the parchnts where they were, finished the wine, and went to sleep.
Lynd did not imdiately command Glory to sneak into the tent. Through Glory's eyes, he could tell that both the wildling warriors standing guard outside and the sleeping Wildling King were still in a state of light sleep—any noise could wake them.
By early morning, the only ones still awake were the patrolling wildlings.
Under the cover of darkness, Lynd directed Glory to slip into the tent unnoticed and approach the parchnts.
He quickly confird that these parchnts were docunts proving the Wildling King's lineage as a descendant of Wyland Wyl. Among them, there was even an official docunt designating Steffon Wyl as the heir to the Lord of Wyl.
How the Wildling King had obtained these docunts remained unknown, but from their contents, it was clear that if Wyland Wyl were to die, these papers, along with the witnesses he had gathered, would make his claim to Wyl Castle highly credible.
But now that Lynd had uncovered his sche, he had no intention of allowing it to succeed.
Using the dark energy shrouding Glory, he carefully corroded a few key sections of the parchnt. When the ti ca, these alterations would undoubtedly serve their purpose.
With his task complete, Glory swiftly left the wildling camp, but he did not return to Lynd’s side.
Instead, following Lynd’s command, he raced northward—toward the Wildling Alliance.
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