Aftermath

"Heh, Lord Robb Stark, young yet wise, skilled in combat. My mistake was underestimating you!

But can you trust this bastard son who betrayed his own family, his own father?"

Roose chuckled, his face unsmiling, and spoke to Robb.

Without waiting for Robb's reply, he turned his eyes to the left and rear, speaking to Ramsay, who was holding him captive. "The North has many families loyal to the Starks. We don't need the House Bolton, which is currently weak and disloyal.

And if he could sacrifice thousands of infantry as bait, do you think he'd hesitate to sacrifice you? My son!"

"Lord Roose, as a Northern Earl famous in the same generation as my father, such low-level provocation is beneath your station!

Guards, detain Lord Roose and watch him carefully. Do not show any disrespect."

Listening to his attempt at provocation, Robb shook his head and replied with disappointment. He then signaled the soldiers to take him away and imprison him.

Watching Roose being escorted away by several Winterfell soldiers, Robb turned to Ramsay and said, "Don't take what he said to heart. When I return to Winterfell, I will formally send letters to the Northern nobles and enfeoff you, Ramsay Snow, as Earl of Dreadfort."

"Thank you for your enfeoffment, Lord Robb!"

Upon hearing this, Ramsay bowed with a smile. However, as he lowered his head, his eyes held no joy, only coldness.

Robb, watching Ramsay's respectful bow, also smiled, a strange glint flashing in his eyes.

"Ramsay, you bastard! Didn't you say we'd have time to escape? Give me back my two brothers' lives!"

Suddenly, Sam, his face and body wrapped in clean linen bandages with only his eyes visible, excitedly burst out from the side and lunged at Ramsay, intending to beat him.

Robb turned and grabbed Sam's hands, speaking to him gently with a blank expression. "Sam, you focus on healing. I'll handle this!"

"You can't blame me for this. My father's spies might have discovered the anomaly of letting all of you go when we took over the wildfire in the merchant caravan.

If I hadn't shot arrows to detonate the wildfire then, let alone capture Dreadfort, our heads would probably be mounted on Dreadfort's walls right now.

You should be thanking me that you can still stand here and talk!"

Ramsay straightened up, shaking his head, implying in his words that Sam should be grateful to him.

"You..."

Sam wanted to retort, but couldn't find any reason.

Ramsay was using the bigger picture to pressure Sam. Without him acting as an inside informant, Dreadfort would indeed have been difficult to capture.

"Alright, Sam, trust me!

Focus on your recovery. I haven't forgotten about your two brothers! I will definitely compensate their families properly!"

Robb stared sincerely at Sam, his words resonating with conviction, gradually calming Sam's agitated emotions.

Once Sam calmed down, he nodded at Robb, glared fiercely at Ramsay, bowed, and took his leave.

"Lord Robb, please believe me. The situation was too urgent at the time, or I wouldn't have detonated the wildfire so early.

After all, you specifically instructed me to ensure their safety."

Watching Sam's retreating back, Ramsay spoke to Robb, who had his back turned, with a sincere tone.

"I believe you!"

Robb, also staring at Sam's limping figure as he walked away, nodded without turning around.

However, in his heart, he spoke the unsaid words.

I believe you, and you would have shot arrows to detonate it even if the situation wasn't urgent!

The work of clearing out personnel and spoils of war from Dreadfort was very time-consuming.

After sending a raven from Dreadfort's rookery to Ironstone Town, Theon arrived at Dreadfort with a thousand infantry in just over half a day.

It was evident that Theon, who had been stationed in Ironstone Town for the past two days, had lived quite comfortably.

He was ruddy-faced and energetic, as if nourished by love.

As soon as he saw Robb, he immediately reported the detailed situation of Ironstone Town.

Their army had swept through the entire Ironstone Town without encountering any resistance.

And under Robb's specific instructions, Theon had kept the troops well-disciplined, refraining from devastating plunder of Ironstone Town.

Of course, all the mineral resources, wealth, and stockpiled grain of Ironstone Town had been confiscated by Theon and his team.

Then, fearing that the soldiers would cause trouble, he had the rewards for this victory distributed in advance by the military judge.

The Winterfell soldiers, who received substantial rewards, immediately headed to Ironstone Town's red-light district.

Through drinking, interacting with sex workers, and other means, they vented the negative emotions accumulated on the battlefield.

Hmm, the sex workers over the past two days were both in pain and pleasure. Although they earned a lot of silver stags, they walked with their legs spread and hands on their waists.

About fifteen hundred of the nearly two thousand Bolton prisoners were dispersed and integrated into the ranks, while the remaining five hundred were directly assigned to mining labor, with their freedom to be restored after five years of work.

However, considering the average lifespan of miners in Ironstone Town, not many would likely remain after five years.

At least three hundred of the thousand infantrymen Theon brought were Bolton defectors.

With the help of Theon's reinforcements, the progress of the remaining cleanup work significantly increased.

Five days later, there were barely any corpses or remains visible outside Dreadfort. The damaged castle gate had been repaired and a new one installed, though the scorched marks on the walls would take time to clean.

"Ramsay, while Sam stays at Dreadfort to recover from his injuries, I'll trouble you to teach him how to develop informants and establish special channels. From now on, he'll handle these dark and dirty matters. You just need to stand in the light and be a good lord!"

Beneath the new gate of Dreadfort, Robb, mounted on his horse, instructed Ramsay, who was seeing them off.

"Of course, as you wish, Lord Robb!"

Ramsay's lips curved into a smile as he replied.

"Sam, recover well and study hard!"

Robb nodded and said to Sam beside him, then loudly commanded, "Depart, return to Winterfell!"

Awooo!

Blood Wind, knowing they were about to go home, let out a long howl.

The grand procession from Dreadfort began its return, led by the cavalry, followed by numerous Dreadfort captives under escort. After them came the long line of spoils-laden wagons, guarded by the infantry.

It took the long procession nearly half an hour to finally leave Dreadfort.

Watching the years of his family's foundation gradually recede from Dreadfort, knowing that only resources for basic operations remained within the castle, Ramsay's smile slowly faded as he contemplated how he would rule his territory in the future.

"Count Ramsay, you have to be responsible for revitalizing Dreadfort and also teaching the dull-witted me. It will be hard work for you from now on!"

Sam, his face still bandaged, saw Ramsay's pensive expression and spoke in a sincere tone, laced with a hint of mockery.

"Lord Sam, you're too kind! I'll still need your help later. After all, the five hundred soldiers currently in Dreadfort are from Winterfell and only take your orders!"

Ramsay didn't get angry upon hearing this. Instead, he calmly requested help, "You jest, they are the guards of Dreadfort and only obey your orders, Count. Your command!"

"Heh, you're right!"

"Haha!"

As they spoke, the two broke into hearty laughter, though neither of their eyes held any mirth.