Isn't this just bullying an honest man!

The man was far too close.

Close enough that Walton could almost smell the warhorse's breath as it puffed against his face.

Walton could swear by the Old Gods, the New Gods, or even every god there was that this horse was fucking his!

This horse had been with him for over a decade!

His old horse~~~his old horse!

"You damned thief! You stole my horse!"

He pointed at Jaime and cursed.

Jaime straightened his back and retorted, "Watch what you say, soldier. I'm a Lannister. Even my piss is gold."

"Lord Bolton gave me this horse."

"What does your missing horse have to do with me?"

At that, Walton grew even angrier. He wiped the mud off his face and was about to keep cursing. "You..."

Just then, a hot stream shot out from between the horse's hind legs.

Fortunately, Walton reacted quickly enough, hurriedly pushing off with both legs to scoot backward and avoid taking a faceful of piss.

The hot stream, reeking sharply of urine, practically brushed the tip of Walton's nose before splashing onto the muddy ground where he had just been sitting.

That was close...

Walton scrambled away and got to his feet in a wretched state, his expression instantly turning furious.

"You..."

Just as he was about to start cursing again, Corleone and his two companions happened to arrive, forcing him to swallow his words once more.

Brienne and Yego were both warriors with extensive combat experience. Without Corleone needing to say a word, they swiftly formed a semicircle, displaying considerable coordination.

But Walton's side had a slight numerical advantage, and the two groups soon settled into a standoff.

Corleone did not immediately start arguing with them. His gaze first fell on Rorge, who was trussed up like a wild boar.

He had to admit, the fellow had a sturdy constitution. He had still been unconscious when they arrived at Harrenhal yesterday, but now he could already squirm around on the ground.

Look! He's even glaring at us.

Seeing that his life was in no danger, aside from the wounds on his body still seeping a little blood, Corleone turned to Walton.

He spoke softly, the aura produced by [Dignity Lv2] instantly spreading outward. "Master Walton."

That address alone made Walton's heart give a sudden jolt despite his fury.

As though some invisible force compelled him, he involuntarily shifted his attention away from Jaime and looked straight into Corleone's eyes.

"This man."

Corleone indicated Rorge with his eyes. "Is a prisoner I took after wiping out the Brave Companions."

His voice was very low, yet every word reached the ears of every soldier from the North.

That aura made it seem as though, the moment Corleone appeared, the eyes of the entire world were fixed on him. His unhurried manner even gave Walton the same sense of unease he felt when facing Lord Roose Bolton alone.

But Walton was, after all, a veteran of countless battles. He quickly swallowed and forced his voice to remain firm. "Lord Bolton ordered us to eliminate all remnants of the Brave Companions!"

"This bastard was scurrying around the castle like a rat, and I caught him red-handed. I'm only carrying out his lordship's orders, sir!"

He stressed Roose Bolton's "orders," trying to establish that he was in the right.

Yet Corleone merely sneered. "Your argument makes no sense whatsoever, sir."

"He's my prisoner, so naturally he's under my jurisdiction now. In other words, this fellow is my property, and Lord Bolton's orders don't apply to him."

"Your property?"

Walton scoffed. "Spare me that, Corleone!"

"Half a month ago, this damned bastard actually dared to fight me over Wells, the star attraction at the Red Hole! Even if your Seven came down today, I'd still kill him!"

"Go on, take him away!"

At Walton's command, the northern soldiers beside him moved to rush forward together.

"Stop!"

Corleone barked, his gaze turning utterly cold. The aura of [Dignity Lv2] flared at full strength, almost tangible.

Brienne and Yego immediately stepped forward as well, their formidable presence intimidating the soldiers into stopping for a moment.

But Harrenhal was, after all, where Bolton's army was stationed. Too much commotion here could easily draw other people's attention, and then things would be difficult to resolve.

While Walton stood stunned, Corleone kept his sharp gaze fixed on him. After a moment's thought, he abruptly changed tack.

"Very well, Master Walton. Since you insist on having this man, let's discuss a business deal."

He paused, then raised his index finger under Walton's somewhat astonished gaze. "One thousand Gold Dragons."

"In accordance with the long-established customs of Westeros, if you wish to ransom him, please pay a ransom of one thousand Gold Dragons."

"After that, he's yours. Whatever you do with him will have nothing to do with me."

"H-how much???"

Hearing that figure, Walton nearly jumped.

The anger instantly drained from his face, replaced by a sense of incredulous absurdity.

"This fucker's worth a thousand Gold Dragons?"

"Are you mad?"

"The bounty on the Kingslayer is only a thousand Gold Dragons!"

He pointed at Jaime, as though denouncing just how outrageous Corleone's asking price was.

Corleone's expression did not change at all in the face of Walton's loss of composure.

He merely tilted his head slightly and patiently began explaining to Walton.

"That's not how you do the sums, sir."

"Ser Jaime's ransom is a 'one-time' payment, because he's a Kingsguard and cannot marry or have children. But Rorge..."

As he spoke, Corleone nudged the human-shaped thing at his feet with his boot. "He's different."

"He'll work for me and create value. Then he'll marry and have children, and his children will keep working for me and have more children... generation after generation, without end."

"Calculated that way, isn't a thousand Gold Dragons a fair price to buy out the value of him and his entire future family?"

"I've already given you a very substantial discount out of consideration for Lord Bolton."

Corleone shrugged, wearing an expression that said, "You're getting a tremendous bargain."

Walton listened, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open, unable to speak for a long while.

What the fuck kind of calculation was that?

It sounded... somewhat reasonable, but on closer thought, he was clearly being played for a fool!

The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew. Walton's chest heaved violently, and he felt a knot of frustration lodged there, stifling him until his whole face turned red.

Wasn't this just bullying an honest man!

But just as Walton kept thinking, trying to refute Corleone's shameless argument...

Jaime, still on horseback, spoke up with perfect timing. "I suggest you seriously consider Master Corleone's proposal, Captain Walton."

"You have only two choices before you now: either pay up quietly, or release him right now."

As he spoke, he leaned down, a trace of menace flashing through his green eyes as he stared straight at Walton. "Otherwise, when I return to King's Landing, I might happen to mention to my father..."

"That Vargo Hoat ordered my hand cut off, and the man who wielded the blade... was you!"

At those words, Walton immediately felt a chill rise up his spine.

That damned Kingslayer!

If Lord Tywin Lannister really believed his lies, with the old lion's ruthless methods, even Lord Bolton might not be able to protect him!

"Slander!"

"He's slandering me!"

He stamped his feet in panic, pointing at Jaime in utter horror. His voice was so shrill that it seemed ready to write the word "misery" in the air.

His earlier toughness and anger were completely replaced by overwhelming fear.

This accusation... was simply too vicious!

Lannisters!

You weren't even human!

Yet seeing such a violent reaction only made Jaime more pleased with himself. He straightened with a cold smile on his face, looking down from above at Walton, who was on the verge of collapse, and spoke softly. "Who do you think..."

"My father will believe, you or me?"

"Northerner."