Dyre Den

The coalition of wildlings, under the dense rain of arrows from the Crabb Longbows, could not even reach the phalanx of Crabb spearmen before they began to break and retreat.

The mountain wind was cold, biting into the skin.

The air was thick with the stench of blood, and the wails of the dying echoed incessantly.

The slaughter continued.

A Crabb clansman caught up to a fleeing mountain wildling. Gripping his longsword tightly, he thrust it with a wet thud deep into the wildling's armpit.

The blade pierced the ribs and drove into the heart; as the clansman withdrew his sword, warm blood sprayed forth.

Ser Mason charged heroically at the front line.

Facing a spear thrust from an oncoming wildling, he dodged with ease, clamped his hand onto the spear shaft, and swung his longsword in a swift, brutal arc, decapitating the man in a single blow.

The Crabb longbowmen split into groups of twenty to thirty, coordinating their efforts to finish off the survivors.

The pursuit of the wildlings was nothing more than a one-sided massacre.

After the battle, a heavy downpour suddenly descended.

In Gryn's tent.

Gryn, enjoying a rare moment of leisure, conversed with his commanders in a harmonious atmosphere.

Ser Pell, soaked to the bone by the downpour, hurried into the tent. Usually composed, his face now bore a trace of agitation.

Pell stood before Gryn and bowed: "Good day, my lord!"

Gryn's eyes flickered, and he furrowed his brow: "Loyal Ser Pell, you have had a long journey. Is there urgent military news?"

Gryn's steady voice calmed Pell's agitated state: "Yes, my lord! Dyre Den has suddenly mobilized. They have contacted the wildling tribes they are on good terms with, and they have at least ten thousand men. This is a declaration of war!"

Gryn took the letter Pell handed him and scanned it with interest, his tone mocking: "Ha, House Brune of Dyre Den? Does House Crabb disturb the peace of Crackclaw Point?"

Crackclaw Point, belonging to the Crownlands, was indeed a lawless land; when nobles had a conflict of interest, they fought whenever they pleased, and none would ever think of the Red Keep.

According to the laws of the realm, nobles of the Crownlands were forbidden from waging war against one another without the command of the Red Keep.

Gryn rose and walked to the table spread with a large map. The others gathered around, and the atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

They did not wait long. Gryn stared at the map and pointed a finger: "Here, Crescent Valley. We shall crush them here!"

Crescent Valley was located about twenty miles northeast of Gryn's current encampment. The exit and entrance of the valley were about 100 meters wide, while the interior was relatively spacious with steep sides. The entire valley was shaped like a crescent, and the culturally inclined people of Crackclaw Point named it Crescent Valley.

Gryn pointed again to a flat area some distance from the entrance of the valley and said: "Pell, send word to House Brune. Crabb accepts the challenge; we shall decide the outcome here."

Based on the intelligence provided by Pell, the location Gryn chose was relatively fair in terms of distance for both sides, and Gryn was not worried they would refuse.

There were other locations with similar terrain to Crescent Valley nearby, but Gryn simply chose one that Dyre Den would easily accept.

If Dyre Den insisted on rejecting all the locations Gryn offered, Gryn would simply abandon the field battle, reinforce the camp's defenses, and fight a defensive war relying on the fortifications.

With ten thousand enemies against fewer than a thousand Crabb men, it would not damage the family honor if word got out.

Besides, since House Crabb had taken the initiative to propose a field battle, the chosen location already fully respected the traditions of Crackclaw Point.

As Gryn expected, once the coalition of Dyre Den and the wildlings confirmed the location, they readily agreed.

The site for the decisive battle was reasonable and in line with the traditions of Crackclaw Point; no one suspected any hidden conspiracy.

Though they mocked Gryn's youth and overestimation of his own strength on the surface, they secretly admired his courage to fight—it was very much the way of Crackclaw Point.

Three days later, at the appointed time, Gryn led Amparo and his clansmen, along with auxiliary troops and surrendered captives disguised as Crabb soldiers, to the meeting point.

Among the dark, dense formations of wildlings, the banners bearing the sigil of House Brune of Dyre Den were exceptionally conspicuous.

Gryn observed that under the Brune banner, there were about 200 soldiers formed into neat phalanxes compared to the surrounding wildlings.

House Brune had about 50 sets of iron armor and 20 warhorses, making them wealthier than House Crabb.

On the Crabb side, those mounted on warhorses were Gryn, Amparo, and a few of Gryn's guards.

The impoverished Lord Gryn looked at the Brune phalanx and sighed inwardly. The iron armor and warhorses needed for the trip to King's Landing would be covered, saving him a significant number of Gold Dragons without extra expenditure.

Indeed, Strong Taking Over Bitter Tilling.

Gryn suddenly understood that the Ironborn had likely realized this maxim under circumstances similar to his own.

Amparo finished her observation and said: "Lord Gryn, they have about 50 horses in total. It is a pity Lena cannot ride and shoot; if there were one more person, it would be much easier to shoot them down."

Gryn seemed to be in a very good mood, a smile appearing on his face: "I will assign two mounted guards to follow you. Remember to keep a safe distance; our primary target is the cavalry charging at us."

No one knew Gryn's inner thoughts, and they would never guess that his sudden good mood was due to the equipment of House Brune; most would simply assume the battle-hardened lord was excited for the coming fight.

Amparo said solemnly: "Understood, my lord, please rest assured!"

Gryn reached out and patted Amparo's arm: "Good, I have always trusted you, and you deserve a suit of plate armor."

The single-minded Amparo rarely understood the implication of Gryn's words so quickly, and together with Gryn, she fixed her gaze upon the phalanx of House Brune.

The Vale, Gulltown.