Warrior's Tomb

As Roose, shackled and riding a giant direwolf, proceeded slowly, the Winterfell soldiers at the south gate of the military camp collectively turned and followed their procession toward the high platform.

When Roose and his party reached the front of the high platform, the nobles of the North felt the oppressive aura of Blood Wind even more profoundly.

A tall, sturdy Northern warhorse and a direwolf the height of a Northern warhorse were two entirely different concepts.

Blood Wind, below the high platform, had icy eyes filled with a desire for slaughter. Its entire being exuded a wild predatory aura, like an invisible net, firmly binding the Northern nobles.

At this moment, the Northern nobles couldn't even speak, let alone breathe. They even slowed their breathing, fearing that a heavy breath would provoke an attack from this ferocious predator.

Roose, on Blood Wind's broad back, seeing that he had achieved the desired effect, immediately conveyed his thoughts to Blood Wind.

As Blood Wind gradually reined in its wild aura, its fur, no longer bristling, lay smoothly against its skin. Its eyes, filled with a murderous glint, returned to their usual intelligent and lively state.

Hoo! Hoo!

As if collectively thawing, the first thing the Northern nobles on the viewing platform did was to take deep breaths.

Feeling his heart pounding, Count Wyman had time to turn and look at his old friend, Count Rickard, who was also taking deep breaths.

The Blood Wind he usually saw was docile when Roose was around, not the dangerous predator it had just been. Thus, this was arguably the first time he had truly witnessed another side of Blood Wind.

Roose, escorted by Little Jon and four others, ascended the steps beside the high platform. Blood Wind, which was slightly taller than the platform, moved directly to its side. Roose stepped onto the platform.

Having completed its task, Blood Wind lazily lay down on the snowy ground below the platform, showing no fear of the cold.

Seeing that Roose had ascended the platform, Theon nodded slightly at him and retreated to stand quietly by Roose's side.

On the high platform, Roose was forced to his knees in the center by Eddard and his brother, facing the Winterfell army arrayed outside the platform and with his back to the Northern nobles on the viewing stands.

Theon and the other four stood quietly around the platform, while Roose stood at the very front, facing Roose and the Northern nobles.

"All lords of the North loyal to House Stark, thank you for your presence. As this military camp was only completed yesterday, I did not have time to return and dine with you all. I offer my deepest apologies."

Roose began with a loud, customary pleasantry, then shifted the topic to the day's main purpose.

"We have invited you here today for two items: first, to observe a military parade, and second, to witness this Warrior's Tomb."

Following the direction of Roose's finger, the Northern nobles immediately saw the bluestone structure, shaped like a dagger, its tip still visible within the military camp.

"The people of the North know that Winterfell has our House Stark's tomb. It houses all the Kings of the North and the heads of House Stark.

From this day forward, this Warrior's Tomb will commemorate all the warriors who sacrificed their lives fighting for Winterfell. Their names will be inscribed on the tomb's surface."

Upon hearing this, a small portion of the Northern nobles shook their heads, while the majority whispered amongst themselves.

Count Wyman was among the minority who shook their heads. He felt that the Young Wolf Lord's act of building a tomb for fallen soldiers was thankless.

He believed it would be more appropriate to give more compensation to the families of the fallen soldiers rather than spending so much gold.

The tomb of House Stark was meant to mourn the ancestors of the family, to commemorate the glory of the entire House.

Apart from his Wolf Guard, most of the soldiers were commoners from the lower strata of society. After their deaths, even their own families might soon forget them.

Seeing the Northern nobles whispering, Roose paid them no mind and continued speaking loudly, "Soldiers whose names are inscribed on the Warrior's Tomb will not only receive compensation for their death but also additional benefits.

If their wives have no means of livelihood, Winterfell will provide them with a job.

If their parents are elderly and unable to work, Winterfell will issue a monthly relief payment.

If their children are young and have no one to care for them, Winterfell will establish a Warrior's Orphanage to raise them to adulthood."

As Roose's astonishing words fell silent, not to mention the Northern nobles pondering how much gold this would cost, the Winterfell soldiers, who had been standing at attention in silence, suddenly erupted in discussion. Some soldiers in the back, unable to hear clearly, eagerly questioned those in front.

"Lord Roose! Long live!"

"We are willing to die for House Stark!"

"Roose! Roose!"

"Stark! Stark!"

"Roose Stark!"

Among the more than two thousand soldiers, someone, unknown, shouted excitedly. But this excited shout, like a spark, instantly ignited a prairie fire.

Various excited shouts echoed through the military camp, eventually coalescing into a single, unified chant: Roose's name.

Roose, forcibly held and kneeling on the high platform, had initially kept his head down, silent, like a corpse.

But when Roose loudly announced the additional benefits of the Warrior's Tomb, he suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting Roose's directly.

Seeing Roose's confident demeanor, Roose sighed inwardly, his head drooping powerlessly again, his eyes staring blankly at the ground of the high platform.

From now on, Winterfell's warriors would fight bravely without any worries. The commoners of the North would flock to join the army in Winterfell.

Unless House Stark dug its own grave and reneged on the promise of this Warrior's Tomb, they would forever rule the North.

Looking at the dejected Roose, the Northern nobles, with complex expressions, felt the fervent response of the Winterfell soldiers. Roose, with his back to them, raised his right hand, fingers clenched together, making a "stop" tactical gesture.

The soldiers in the front ranks saw Roose's gesture and quickly relayed the order. In a very short time, the clamorous shouts that had just sounded like waves instantly quieted, leaving the air still.

"The third item today is the trial of Roose Bolton, the Count of Dreadfort, by me, the acting lord of Winterfell, Roose Stark."

As the Winterfell soldiers behind him fell silent, Roose clenched his right fist and pointed downward, towards the kneeling Roose, and loudly declared, "I will serve as the first judge, Count Rickard Karstark of Karstark will serve as the second judge, and Count Jon Umber of Last Hearth will serve as the third judge."

Hearing that he was to be put on trial, Roose, his face gaunt, looked up at Robb and laughed loudly, "Hahaha, I know, you've certainly already decided my guilt.

After this trial process is complete, with the honorable Robb Stark to pronounce sentence, I will either be hanged or beheaded.

Therefore, I do not accept this unfair trial. As the Earl of House Bolton, I request the Old Gods bear witness and demand a trial by combat with the acting Lord, Robb Stark!"

Thank you, Will of the Old King Great One, for the coin tips. Thank you, Teutonic Great One, for the monthly votes. And thank you to all the readers, Great Ones, for your daily votes and daily follow-ups.

PS: I truly read every comment and vote from you readers, Great Ones. Some of you vote immediately after midnight, and I am very grateful for your support. I will write diligently and tell this story well!