Sandor the Fierce

The scissors, over two feet long, had a shiny black handle and a blade that was polished to a cold gleam. In the gaps between the blades, one could even see hidden black scabs.

The servant, about to be executed, was pinned down on a bench; his body struggled and writhed like a fish being pulled ashore.

"No! No! Please, have mercy! Sir, have mercy!"

The man, pinned to the ground, howled in agony, terrified of the punishment that awaited him.

However, the executioner remained unmoved. The sharp blade grazed the protruding Achilles tendon in the man's heel, but the cold blade sent a shiver through the man, who then began to writhe even more frantically.

With a snap, the Achilles tendon was cleanly severed. Although not much blood flowed out, the milky white Achilles tendon, mixed with some pale yellow, popped out from the person's heel with a "poof".

The men holding the servant down released him, and the man whose Achilles tendons had been severed writhed in pain.

The man wielding the long-handled scissors looked around at the gaunt, listless servants and serfs and said, "Next time, anyone who dares to run away will suffer the same fate!"

After saying that, one of the men raised his whip high and lashed it hard across the man whose Achilles tendons had been severed, while glaring fiercely at the others and shouting, "Get back to work!"

The intimidated serfs and servants scattered and returned to the rows of low tea bushes.

This is a large plantation in the Iron Islands, growing tea, fruit trees, and also crops such as wheat.

These serfs were captured by the Iron Islands people from the Westerlands, the Riverlands Beyond the Wall, and even from passing merchant ships.

Having some skills can make life a little better; for example, shipbuilders are highly sought after on the Iron Islands. If you have no skills, there's only one outcome—becoming a slave.

On Harlaw Island, owned by the House Harlaw, they were serfs; on Great Wyk, owned by the House Goodbrother, they were miners.

The man whose Achilles tendons had been severed lay prone on the ground; this served as a warning to others, and also demonstrated the executioner's leniency.

He was allowed to rest for an afternoon, despite the loss of one leg.

As evening fell and the sea breeze grew cooler, the man slowly awoke, a pool of dark red blood congealing near his wound.

He tried to get up and look at his feet, but the sharp pain told him that he was now crippled.

After an unknown amount of time, the man finally mustered his courage. He smeared some dry dirt on the wound, then tore strips of cloth from his already tattered clothes to bandage it.

After a brief attempt, he discovered that his leg, with its tendons severed, could no longer exert any force, and a sense of despair eroded his will.

The man had only been arrested a short time ago. He was originally just a loader who made a living through manual labor. He heard that the wages were higher in the Reach Riverlands to the Reach.

Of course, this was also largely due to the wars in the Riverlands, which meant the lords didn't have the energy to restrict population movement within their territories.

However, not long after leaving Seagard, they were hijacked by the longships of the Iron Islands.

He had been kidnapped for more than half a year, and since arriving in the Iron Islands, he had not seen his wife and children.

Hearing that his family might be in Dry Tower City, on Harlaw Island, he was overcome with longing and decided to escape the hellish plantation to visit them.

But he hadn't expected the Iron Islands pirates to have set so many traps, and he was still captured.

As he hobbled back to his thatched hut, he would have had little will to live if not for the worry for his family. Suddenly, faint shouts of killing came from afar.

Firelight blazed up from all directions, as if cutting through the darkness and separating the heavens from the earth.

Along with the flames came shouts of battle, which grew louder as they approached. The serfs living in their semi-subterranean thatched huts rushed out of their huts to look into the distance, where they saw knights in gleaming armor charging out.

Westeros?

The man whose Achilles tendons had been severed murmured as if he had seen an envoy sent by the Seven.

One of them fought with exceptional ferocity; riding on horseback, he was almost ten feet tall, wielding a long spear that was unstoppable.

Several plantation guards hastily formed a formation even looser than an apple pie, only to be easily routed by the man on horseback.

More and more serfs poked their heads out of their huts to look outside.

They also saw the imposing, tall man whose belly had disrupted the formation.

All I could hear was him shouting something like "Long live the Duke of Stark!" and casually tossing away a plantation guard who tried to block his way.

He showed no mercy to the guards who turned and ran; his spear pierced the guard's back, snapping his spine in an instant.

While there weren't many such formidable warriors, many more well-armored knights emerged from the darkness, and they were no less formidable, along with agile soldiers. Under their onslaught, the plantation managing over three thousand servants was quickly captured.

Three thousand well-equipped soldiers against a plantation with a total population of only three thousand—even a child could win.

Many knights even rode their horses around once and won the battle without ever seeing the enemy.

Jon didn't even give direct instructions; instead, he let Rickard make the arrangements, only needing to control the degree and direction.

After the battle, Sandor excitedly approached Jon, carefully and properly putting on his mask beforehand.

"My lord, I killed eleven!" Sandor said with a hint of boasting.

The total kill count for the offensive was 52, with him personally killing 11, while the number of enemy soldiers he saw exceeded 300. This truly deserves to be called the greatest achievement.

"Very good, but you charged too recklessly. As our activities on Harlaw Island become more frequent, the enemy's preparations will be more thorough, and their combat strength will be stronger. A rash charge will only lead to injury. I will remember your contribution, but if you charge recklessly again next time, I will have to punish you."

"Yes, sir." Sandor knew Jon didn't intend to punish him, it was just a small reminder, but then he suddenly noticed others watching him and gave a strange smile.

Since he got the mask, he has smiled more often. It's not the kind of smile that used to scare people with the terrible burns on his face, but a smile that makes him look as gentle as possible.

Soon, the plantation fell, and nearly half of the less than one hundred guards died in the attack. The plantation's manager was brought before Jon.

After ascertaining the location of the warehouse and accounts, they took him away again.

Just as dawn was breaking, Jon, in front of the serfs, herded all the plantation managers to the execution platform.

Jon addressed the observing apprentices and bastards, saying, "There are roughly seventy or eighty thousand serfs on Harlaw Island. Our task is not only to destroy these plantations, but more importantly, to let them know we exist! Execute them."

Jon spoke lightly, and soon the fifty men were bound hand and foot and pushed toward the serfs who were watching the execution.

These serfs are the instruments of torture Jon prepared for these heinous villains.

The serfs, who were being used as instruments of torture by Jon, looked at the man in front of them, who was so frightened that he lost control of his bladder. At first, many of them hesitated.

The man whose Achilles tendon had just been severed yesterday looked at the plantation guards and the plantation owner on the ground, and then at the young nobleman surrounded by well-armored knights not far away. He let out a strange cry and lunged at the executioner who had severed his Achilles tendon.

No! Don't!

Please!

The man remained silent, biting and scratching with his nails, acting like a madman. The other serfs finally realized what was happening and understood Jon's meaning, and they all rushed forward.

Screams of agony ripped from between the serfs' bodies, like snakes and rats being roasted in a raging fire. Soon, someone gouged out an eyeball, the black and white eyeball, along with a strip of bright red flesh, was held high like a trophy to be flaunted, and then swallowed by someone else.

Then blood and screams flew everywhere, and finally the cries and screams stopped, but the serfs showed no sign of stopping.

Jon naturally wouldn't stop these people, but would observe them silently. At this moment, the serfs all displayed a madness for revenge and a fanaticism for blood.

He soon saw several serfs who had first come to their senses from the killing and venting of anger, and then ordered them to be brought to his side, including the one who had started the fight and whose Achilles tendons had been cut.

"Sir, have you come to rescue us?" the man asked.

"I cannot save you, but you can save yourselves."

Jon called the men aside and told them that it wouldn't be long before the leaders of the Iron Islands realized what was happening, and a great battle would soon ensue.

He will crush the Iron Islands ' army here.

If they want to survive, they'll have to take up arms too.

Jon knew that although the Iron Islands army still numbered around 40,000, after deducting the old and weak, there were only a little over 10,000 left. The more than 100,000 serfs on the islands would become his forces in the future.

They need to stay on the plantation and spread the word.

Before leaving, Jon took more than two hundred strong serfs with him to join his ranks, along with cooks who were also enslaved.

Although they don't have to go to the battlefield, they can serve as auxiliary soldiers, providing logistics for Jon's army.

These people work thirteen or fourteen hours a day, so at least their physical strength isn't a major problem.

Jon used the Hall Plantation to set an example for the Bastard Second Sons, and then divided his army of over three thousand into three parts: one led by Jon, one by Rickard, and one by Leo Lefford Lazy.

Jon also gave Rickard and Leo Lefford considerable autonomy, allowing them to split their forces as needed.

An unprecedented war in Westeros is rapidly unfolding.