Hugh Wolf, who isn't afraid of the heat

As one of the strongest tribes among the Mountain Clans, the Painted Dog Tribe naturally had its own council hall.

The tribe's elders brought out the rare meat they had to entertain Jon.

In a bright, semi-cavernous hall, they lit a fire and set a bronze pot over it to stew the meat.

Only then did Jon truly feel the reality of such backward productivity.

Roasted meat certainly tasted good.

But a great deal of precious fat dripped away during the cooking process.

Scenes like those in films and television, where nomadic peoples placed huge slabs of meat on a grill and let the fat drip away, simply could not exist.

Instead, it was normal to pour every drop of fat from the bronze pot into one's mouth like this.

Jon sat around the fire talking with the three elders and Haken.

The three elders chatted with Jon over tea, while Haken alone remained silent, watching Sola pour tea for them.

"Thank you."

Jon accepted the tea from Sola and thanked her in passing.

He had just heard Sola call the chief elder Father, so he did not want to slight her.

Yet this gesture made Sola blush furiously, and she could not hide the smile at the corners of her lips.

"So the group of iron-clad men who recruited our warriors before will soon fail?"

"That's right. We call those iron-clad men the Lannisters. They have provoked several powerful houses at once.

"Of course, the Lannisters are indeed powerful, but let me make an inappropriate comparison. I can see that the Painted Dog Tribe is strong as well, but if the Painted Dog Tribe had to fight all the Mountain Clans of the Moon Mountains, could you withstand them?"

At Jon's words, Vidor and Xiuwolf exchanged a glance.

They both realized that switching to the other side might actually be called "good fortune."

At that moment, Chief Elder Vidor spoke.

"We understand what Lord Jon means. Since this is the Fire Witch's will, we are willing to serve you. But the food and weapons..."

"Don't worry. I'll give you better food and weapons!"

The weapons Tyrion had given these people had merely been second- and third-rate equipment discarded by the Lannister army.

The ones Robb had given him had been stripped directly from prisoners, so naturally they were much better.

Seeing this, Chief Elder Vidor nodded, but then raised a very practical problem—the Mountain Clans did not interact frequently, and there were plenty of conflicts between them.

The tribes that had not joined the Lannisters were somewhat remote, and they were extremely hostile toward outsiders. It would probably not be easy for Jon to form alliances with them.

"Leave that to me." Before Jon could say anything, Elder Xiuwolf spoke up.

He reached directly into the bronze pot of boiling broth, fished out a large chunk of lean-and-fat meat, and placed it before Jon.

The performance, like some sort of acrobatic act, caught Jon completely off guard.

Damn! What a pair of merciless iron hands!

Still, seeing someone willing to help him, Jon showed his respect.

"Then thank you, Elder. How should I address you?"

"Haha, just call me Xiuwolf."

"All right, Elder Xiuwolf."

Xiuwolf's enthusiasm clearly surprised the other two as well. At that moment, Sola suddenly cut in from the side.

"Elder Xiuwolf is the person in our tribe who fears scalding the least."

"It's only that I'm not afraid of being scalded. It's no useful skill, nothing compared to Lord Jon's martial prowess."

The moment someone praised Jon's fighting skills, Haken lowered his head even further and viciously tore into the chunk of meat in his hands, as though it had been carved from Jon's body.

But overall, the atmosphere was far more harmonious than when Jon had first arrived at the Painted Dog Tribe.

The Painted Dog Tribe was willing to accept Jon's group, and Elder Xiuwolf had even volunteered to take on the difficult task of contacting the other tribes. It gave Jon the feeling that fortune itself was helping him.

But as a businessman in his previous life, he would never believe that anyone in this world would help him for no reason.

The gifts of fate had long since been secretly marked with a price.

To be honest, in his previous life, he had even kept his guard up around the woman beside his pillow, much less Xiuwolf.

"But if it were Roslin..."

Jon suddenly realized that he had actually drifted off.

It seemed that after a greasy old uncle had traded bodies with a young man, his thoughts had begun to stir as well.

Suppressing that strange flutter in his heart, Jon continued chatting with Vidor and the others.

After the discussion, Jon's group was arranged lodging, while Old York took the chance to remind Jon to be wary of Xiuwolf.

Jon smiled and agreed. It seemed the saying that old people grew wise with age really was not just empty talk.

But before long, the old fellow started getting improper.

"My lord, I think that little girl named Sola is quite taken with you."

Seeing him tease him, Jon waved it off casually. "Girls are outgoing by nature."

"Ah, my lord, that's not right. You are highly skilled, have the bearing of a nobleman, and can win battles. Not to mention a Wildling girl—looking across the Seven Kingdoms, quite a few noble ladies would fall for you!

"My lord, you probably haven't slept with a woman yet, have you? And in my experience, that little girl in bed would be..."

The more Old York spoke, the more indecent he became. Jon cut in.

"Ser York, we came out here to find allies, not to find me a wife. If you do not put your mind to proper matters, why not go back first?"

Hearing the reproach in Jon's tone, Old York sheepishly sat back down.

Though he had received a small scolding, he was still rather pleased inside.

That Wildling girl named Sola truly was quite pretty.

She had both the figure and the looks.

Among all the girls he had seen in his more than sixty years of life, she could rank in the top five!

Judging by looks alone, his own granddaughter might not be much competition.

But it seemed Jon was not someone who valued appearance, which reassured him considerably.

The two then spoke again of Xiuwolf, the man who had fished meat from the boiling pot for Jon, both finding it astonishing.

Perhaps his nerves were not so sensitive to heat or cold?

Jon did not think much of it.

Meanwhile, Xiuwolf was taking stock of his belongings and preparing to set out to persuade the other tribes.

But his son was somewhat dissatisfied with this.

"Father, why are we helping that outsider?"

Xiuwolf looked at his complaining son. When the tribe had decided to send troops, he had gone to great lengths to hide this son away.

"What the hell do you know?" Xiuwolf snapped.

Then he glanced out the window. After making sure no one was around, he lowered his voice and whispered into his son's ear.

"Didn't you see how skilled that Jon is? I estimate that, in the next hundred years, he will be the person most likely to climb Hidden Fire Peak.

"Do you know what the treasure on Hidden Fire Peak means?

"If we obtain that thing, forget the tiny Painted Dog Tribe—the entire Moon Mountains, even the entire Vale, will be ours!"

"The Vale..." Xiuwolf's son swallowed, looking as though he did not even dare imagine it.

"Father, what exactly is on Hidden Fire Peak?"