Southward Bound

The next day, late at night, Robb, having settled the affairs of Winterfell, quietly departed from Winterfell's south gate with his cavalry, disguised as an ordinary merchant caravan.

This disguised caravan was small, consisting of only three carriages. Robb was accompanied by his brothers Eddard and Toren, along with sixteen carefully selected cavalrymen.

Each of them wore old civilian clothes and had disguised their faces with beards, scars, and the like, appearing quite convincing on the surface.

Winterfell, having announced the benefits of the Warrior's Tomb, had sparked a wave of civilian enlistment in the surrounding areas. Currently, Theon and Owen were in charge of this matter.

It was estimated that after screening for age and physique, two to three thousand new recruits could be enlisted.

Daisy was responsible for guarding the family members in the main keep. Little Jon, partly due to his conspicuous size and partly because he and Trog were overseeing the daily training in the military camp and the upcoming recruit training.

The Wolf Guards, whom Robb used as a linchpin, were all mid-level officers in the army and could not be spared.

Besides, this trip was not intended to attack King's Landing, but rather to rescue Eddard, Sansa, and Arya through certain plans.

Robb brought these men along partly for disguise and partly in case manpower was needed.

In fact, Robb's current overall strength could be said to have just reached the pinnacle of Westeros.

Previously, the small influx of red mist had minor negative effects, and the positive effects were also very small.

However, after the uncontrolled battle at Dreadfort, Robb gained a deeper understanding of the red mist.

The most severe negative effect was that it could make him lose his sanity, lose control, and fill his heart with a desire to slaughter.

The positive effects were the continuous supply of stamina, accelerated wound healing, and ultimately, a subtle enhancement of physical fitness.

In fact, Robb had long felt that his physical fitness was getting better and stronger.

He had always attributed this to the results of his daily strenuous training, but after the last incident of losing control, Robb clearly felt a significant improvement in his physical condition.

Not to mention anything else, just in terms of strength, Little Jon was no match for him anymore.

This was tested in the military camp a few days ago. At that time, Little Jon's expression was extremely varied, as his strength was what he was most proud of.

As for Blood Wind's current attributes, they could be described as quite balanced.

[Name: Blood Wind, Contractor: Robb Stark]
[Constitution: 30, Speed: 30, Strength: 30]
[Species: Warg Direwolf (6)]
[Wolf Pack: Soldier Wolf: Nymeria, Servant Wolf: Lady.]
[Blood Contract Points: 32]

All its attributes had reached 30 points and could not be increased further. Robb did not know if this was its growth limit or if there were other conditions yet to be met.

This cheat system could only be explored on his own. If there was even the most rudimentary user manual, Robb wouldn't be so frustrated.

The accumulated Blood Contract Points were also a hidden danger. As long as he continued to fight and kill, the Blood Contract Points would accumulate, inevitably leading to a loss of control.

If he could no longer spend points to increase attributes, would he lose control for a period of time, or permanently, becoming a madman who only knew how to kill?

Robb had no idea about the consequences of losing control again, so his appetite had greatly decreased during this period, for fear of accumulating more Blood Contract Points.

Oh, right, killing Roose Bolton yesterday had brought him a gain of 8 Blood Contract Points.

Apart from Dick, the traitorous soldier leader he had killed before, this was the second time he had received a reward exceeding the usual 2 Blood Contract Points.

Fortunately, when he lost control during the battle at Dreadfort, his Blood Contract Points had exceeded 70, so he still had some leeway.

Speaking of Blood Wind, it was likely to suffer some hardship during this journey. Due to its conspicuous size, it was currently confined in the last, specially customized carriage.

Robb could have left Blood Wind behind and ridden south quickly to King's Landing.

But abandoning his trump card, his ultimate weapon, and venturing alone? That was something only the protagonists in movies from his past life would do!

Although the transport carriages slowed them down, Robb and his men were essentially traveling at all times, except for necessary rest periods.

In just over half a month, they had reached the border between the Crownlands and the Riverlands, Pig's Horn.

Pig's Horn was a tower castle with a strange name and walls eight feet thick. It was the fief of House Hogue, vassals of a knight of House Harford.

The tower castle was naturally inaccessible, but on the outskirts, there was a settlement spontaneously established by the surrounding commoners, similar to the Winter Market.

Although the place was not large, it lacked nothing in terms of food, clothing, housing, and transportation. Overall, it appeared somewhat busy and prosperous.

After all, its location was excellent, less than a day's ride from King's Landing, serving as the first resting point at the beginning of the King's Road.

After the long journey, everyone from Winterfell, except for Robb, looked exhausted and dispirited.

Therefore, he decided to rest here for a night before departing for King's Landing the next day.

Robb and his group stayed in a dilapidated, ordinary inn here. The cost of living in the south was indeed much higher than in the North.

Their food and lodging, including high-quality feed for the horses, cost a total of one hundred and ten silver stags.

This was after Eddard had haggled for a discount. Initially, when the innkeeper heard their Northern accent, he had demanded a gold dragon.

When Robb and his men arrived at the inn, it was already close to sunset.

After arranging for the transport carriages to be parked and personally going to the carriage to appease Blood Wind, who was constantly conveying its impatience to him, he led everyone to the inn's lobby for dinner.

Although this inn looked old and ordinary, its business was very good. When Robb and his group entered the spacious inn lobby, two-thirds of the dining tables were already occupied by guests eating and chatting.

After Robb and his group were seated, they waited for a short while before the innkeeper served them their customized dinner for their stay.

A plain but hearty loaf of bread, a large bowl of barley and venison stew, some green spinach, and a big mug of cheap ale.

Compared to the fine cuisine he made for himself back in Winterfell, Robb frowned as he ate this.

It wasn't that they couldn't afford good food, but since they were disguised as a small merchant caravan, their food, lodging, and transportation should at least fit the disguise.

So, when Eddard haggled with the innkeeper, he didn't speak up to stop him.

Back on Earth in his past life, Robb was the kind of man who could pick out clothes and shoes, enter a store, pay, and leave in under ten minutes.

CLANG!

Just as Robb and his group were finishing most of this rather mediocre food, the inn door was suddenly shoved open.

The man who stumbled into the inn's main hall shouted excitedly, "Latest news! His Majesty the King invited some prostitutes into the Red Keep today, and he died on their bellies!"

BANG!

Upon hearing the man's announcement, Robb's expression changed drastically. He slammed his fist heavily onto the dining table, sending drinks and remaining food splashing everywhere.

Impossible!!!