Suleiman's right hand was still resting on Lushen's shoulder.
He watched the tears welling in the man's eyes and felt his body trembling.
He suddenly felt awkward, unsure what to say.
An odd silence settled over the room, with strange emotions swirling through it.
Just as Suleiman was growing more and more uncomfortable, the closed door was suddenly flung open from outside.
Suleiman took the opportunity to pull his hand back.
Dust covered Roslyn's face, and he looked frantic as he rushed in. He froze when he saw the scene in the room.
His astonishment quickly overtook his panic, but he still managed to recover and hurriedly bowed to Lord Suleiman.
Roslyn was clearly in a panic. Yet after coming in, the strange scene seemed to make him forget what he had meant to say.
Suleiman's expression and voice quickly returned to their usual composure.
"What are you panicking for? What happened?"
Roslyn took several hurried breaths, his face filled with indignation.
"Lord Suleiman, I took some men to a nearby town to sell our spoils!"
"Those crafty leeches actually tried to cheat us out of the money we risked our lives to earn!"
"A bunch of parasites! They belong in the Seven Hells!"
Roslyn kept angrily cursing the merchants of Westeros as he handed the account sheet to Suleiman.
Most common folk in Westeros despised merchants. Merchants meant greed, and greed was one of the seven deadly sins.
But when Suleiman took the account sheet and saw the figures, he was surprised, yet also felt it made sense.
No wonder everyone wanted to go raiding.
It was far quicker and easier than diligently farming, dutifully collecting rent, or laboriously running a business.
They could amass a huge fortune through the most brutal and fastest means.
It was time to fulfill his oath.
"Lushen! Roslyn!"
"Go gather the troops!"
Suleiman looked at Lushen and Roslyn as he spoke.
"Yes, Lord Suleiman!" Roslyn replied loudly.
"Yes, Lord Suleiman!" Lushen stood as well, his voice hoarse.
The two men accepted their orders, immediately turned, and strode out of the room to gather their respective troops.
Before long, the village rang with hurried footsteps and soldiers' shouts.
The soldiers, who had been scattered throughout the area, heard the signal to assemble.
Ignoring their exhaustion, they all hurried toward the gathering point, excitement on their faces.
They knew Roslyn and his men had already sold the spoils and returned.
Soon, several hundred soldiers stood in neat formation on the small square at the center of the village.
They still bore the dust and blood of battle. The stains were hard to wash off.
So they had decided to keep them as marks of their bravery.
At the head of the formation, Lushen and Roslyn stood before their respective squads, waiting for Lord Suleiman to arrive.
Suleiman kept them waiting. At a time like this, the soldiers needed to wait.
He would wait until they grew more anxious, excited, and eager.
At last, he rose slowly, left the room, and came before the assembled soldiers.
But he still said nothing, only letting his gaze sweep over his men.
Of course, this was another little trick he had read about before.
They said it could build up emotion and create the strongest memories.
It could also strengthen a leader's authority, because the soldiers were waiting for their reward.
When the soldiers saw Suleiman arrive, they gazed at him with eager, yearning eyes.
But Suleiman said nothing. Their emotions burned through them like fire.
They couldn't wait any longer!
A powerful yearning, a hope for wealth and a better fate, was magnified to its utmost at that moment.
It wasn't a flattering comparison.
But to Suleiman, they looked like the stray dogs he used to see on the street, staring at him when he held food...
They couldn't wait any longer.
They couldn't wait to hear what Lord Suleiman would say next.
The intense tension and anticipation filled the square with a suffocating silence.
Under their gaze, Suleiman slowly raised his right hand, clenched into a fist.
He knew he couldn't keep them waiting. Any longer, and this wouldn't be a little trick anymore—it would become common knowledge.
He was afraid these conscripts he had trained to be as fierce as wolves and tigers would rush him and cut him down.
When some soldiers saw that Suleiman had finally moved, they excitedly raised their hands high.
"Long live Lord Suleiman!" they shouted.
This fervent, passionate, and frenzied wave quickly swept over everyone!
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
One after another, then another, until everyone was shouting along!
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
Lushen and Roslyn looked at Suleiman with pride. He was their lord, their master!
Everyone kept their eyes fixed on Suleiman, standing at the front on higher ground.
They waited for the young noble who had led them to a huge fortune to speak his next words.
Their bodies trembled wildly with overwhelming desire.
The square seemed shrouded in an invisible emotion: greed and desire.
Their deafening cries of "Long live" merged into a terrifying roar, as if the very ground were shaking.
Suleiman stood at the center of the roar.
He quietly watched the crowd before him, boiling with excitement, and listened to their shouts.
At last, he understood the feeling behind the words, "A real man should be like this!"
His right hand was still clenched into a fist. Slowly, he opened it and gently placed it against his chest.
Seeing his gesture, the soldiers finally began to quiet down.
Suleiman swept his gaze over his soldiers. Wherever his eyes fell, the men lifted their heads and squared their shoulders.
He didn't beat around the bush. He went straight to the point.
Suleiman began to speak. His voice was not loud, but it carried clearly to every soldier.
"Soldiers! I once made you a promise!"
"Half of everything we seize in battle belongs to me, and half belongs to you!"
Suleiman looked at Roslyn.
Roslyn understood at once and hurried over with several men.
They carried several heavy wooden chests out of a building beside the square.
The chests weren't large, but judging by their labored steps,
they were filled to the brim!
Suleiman spoke again. His voice was no different in tone from before.
But this time, to the soldiers, it sounded so sweet, like a flame!
The soldiers looked at their Suleiman, and their Suleiman pointed at them.
"Now!"
"I'll make good on my oath!"
Roslyn and the others suddenly threw open the lids of the chests!
Frenzy!
When the several hundred soldiers saw the mountains of wealth within reach, their taut nerves finally snapped.
Their eyes turned bloodshot, and their breathing grew harsh.
Many trembled all over, their hands clenched tight.
Their nails even dug into their palms, but they didn't notice.
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
"Kill the Wildlings!"
"Kill them! We'll follow Lord Suleiman and keep killing!"
A frenzied roar erupted through the air!
The square was in an uproar, consumed by madness!
This was the most direct power that wealth could bring!
Their lives had been changed by violence and killing!
They had been conscripted and sent to their deaths, but battle had brought them riches.
Suleiman's voice rang out again.
"You bled in battle! The commanders of your two squads saw it!"
"Come forward one at a time! The two of them will judge each of your performances!"
"They'll distribute your shares according to your military service!"
Suleiman was helping Lushen and Roslyn establish their authority.
He was reinforcing their positions as squad leaders.
One by one, the soldiers stepped out of formation and came to the chests.
When Lushen scooped up a handful of silver stags—so many that he even needed little bags—everyone felt their eyes grow hot.
They had all spent their lives in Westeros struggling to make ends meet.
Their greatest wish was simply to save enough money to buy food. If their families didn't freeze or starve to death, they considered themselves fortunate.
They had never imagined that a single battle could bring them such astonishing rewards.
This money was enough to leave their past hardships behind and give their families a better life.
"Gate, this is yours!" Roslyn placed a bulging purse in the hands of a young soldier.
Gate took the purse in a daze, his hands trembling uncontrollably. He had shot an arrow into a Wildling's eye.
He glanced down at the purse's weight, then looked up at Roslyn's solemn expression.
His lips trembled as he tried to say something, but no sound came out.
He was a hunter. Even after twenty years of hunting, he could never have saved this much!
"Dell, this is yours!" Lushen handed him a full purse.
He was a soldier from Deddings Town, a seasoned soldier Maester Walder had picked out and thrown into this squad to die.
From his past experience, promises made by nobles often came with strings attached, especially when it came to dividing the spoils.
Why bleed and risk your life when you could hide and collect your wages?
But this time, for some reason, he chose to believe.
When he saw the two-meter-tall Wildling leave an opening behind him, he charged.
His sword pierced the man's chest!
The clear chink of the silver stags and their astonishing weight in his hand
made even this old soldier from Deddings Town feel his eyes grow hot.
This money was enough for him to buy a large house back home and marry a big-bottomed wife.
He could live a peaceful life and even support his parents!
Toman stepped forward. Lord Roslyn had told him to come last.
But there were no coins left in the chests.
He raised his head in despair.
Then he saw Lord Suleiman smiling at him.
"You're Toman?"
"Yes, my lord!"
He saw Suleiman walk toward him.
"Their bravery!"
"Lushen and Roslyn saw it!"
Now Suleiman stood before him and held out a small chest.
"And your bravery!"
"I saw it!"
He fell to his knees before Suleiman and wept bitterly.
I don't think I'll ever forget this moment, Toman thought.
Before you continue