When Mance Rayder heard Jason East say that, he was stunned. The soldiers dragged him away, but he was in a daze, not knowing how to react.
Mance's original plan was to use his information about the ghouls. He hoped it would earn the commander's trust and keep himself and the Free Folk safe.
But the young commander just said he already knew all about ghouls. That single sentence ruined Mance's only plan. Mance didn't know what to do.
From now on, the fate of him and the Free Folk was completely in the hands of that young lord. It was a matter of life or death.
The wildlings were stripped of their weapons. They were forced into long queues and marched through the narrow tunnel under the Wall. Slowly, they entered the lands south of the Wall.
In a way, the wildlings' desire to go south had finally been fulfilled, though the result was not what they imagined.
All the wildling captives were separated into several large camps. Soldiers guarded them from all sides. There was no fear that these rough and defeated people would rebel.
While the logistics of the captives were being handled, Jason found himself troubled by the northern lords.
These lords saw that the threat of the wildlings was gone. Immediately, many of them proposed to disband the army and return to their own lands.
The constant war in the North over the past two years had cost everyone a lot. They didn't care about the population—if the commoners in their territory died, they died. More would be born in a few years.
However, the material cost was real. Supplies had been moved out of their own castle warehouses and sent to the battlefield.
In the war against the Lannisters, many of their fathers—the previous patriarchs—had died. They had spent so much money for nothing and gotten no spoils in return. Their families' interests were badly damaged.
All they wanted was to return to their lands, govern their territories, and slowly recover their strength.
If it hadn't been for the threat of the wildlings, they would never have answered the Starks' call and brought troops to help in the first place.
Now that the wildlings were defeated and captured, the threat was gone. These new, young lords immediately began to think about preserving their own strength.
In recent days, they had all heard the rumors from the wildling captives—stories about "White Walkers" and their monsters.
They were terrified that their troops would be consumed by the army of ghouls that might come next. These nobles were greedy for life and afraid of death. One by one, they began to clamor to return to their castles.
"Lord Jason," one said, "even if these ghouls are real, we can't resist them alone at the border. You heard the wildlings, there are hundreds of thousands of undead monsters!"
"He's right, Lord Jason!" another added. "We need to unite the power of all Westeros. We must call on the lords of the south to send troops! We have to deal with this common enemy of mankind together. We can't resist it with only our strength... we can't!"
The situation grew worse as patrols went beyond the Wall and entered the Haunted Forest. They encountered more and more of these monsters, the "ghouls."
This news inevitably spread throughout the entire northern army. Such conclusive reports made the northern nobles even more frightened. They couldn't wait to escape.
"My lords," Jason said, his voice cutting through their panic. "I don't need to remind you that we are still at war with the South. Joffrey and Tywin Lannister sit on the Iron Throne. They would rather see us all killed by ghouls than send a single soldier to support us.
"Even if the ghouls eventually kill them too, they won't help us now."
Jason East looked at the panicked faces of the northern lords. He couldn't help but feel contempt, but he kept his expression neutral. "We can only rely on ourselves."
Earl Gabbert of Deepwood Motte looked worried. "But Lord Jason, we only have 50,000 troops. According to the wildlings, these ghouls are very difficult to kill. Unless you burn them, they say even chopping them into pieces doesn't stop them! They just keep... jumping around!"
Having said that, Earl Gabbert took a deep, shuddering breath. "Old gods protect us... this is a terrible disaster. I really can't imagine how we're supposed to resist monsters like that!"
For a time, the other nobles present nodded one after another. They were all deeply uneasy.
They understood that these monsters were the enemy of all mankind. They knew all warm creatures would be destroyed, and that their castles would become cold tombs. They knew that only by gathering all the power in the North could they possibly stop these ghosts.
But the thought of facing these monsters in person was too much. These young lords, who had only just taken over their titles, couldn't hide the fear on their faces.
If their fathers were still alive, they might have had the courage to fight. But these young men clearly did not.
So, one by one, they made excuses to bring their soldiers back to their own castles.
This pre-war meeting about the ghouls ended in worry and failure.
Despite Jason East's repeated assurances that he was ready for the next war, the thought of hundreds of thousands of White Walkers—monsters completely beyond their understanding—made everyone's anxiety certain.
Jason East sat alone at the head of the long conference table and watched the lords leave.
Dicken, guarding Jason's back, was silent. He was dressed in gray-green camouflage and covered with black protective gear. His tall, majestic body looked powerful.
"Lord Jason, the soldiers have arranged the camping..."
Jon, Kent, and the other young officers who had been settling their men hurried in. They saluted Jason.
Jason East raised his head and looked at the few young knights standing in front of him. Because Jason favored them, Jon, Kent, Bud, McCann, Rubin, and Marbu were all now senior officers in his legion.
They didn't have much war experience, and their military skills were still lacking.
However, their personal military talent wasn't very important. The soldiers under them had modern training, advanced weapons, and the strictest discipline in all of Westeros.
All Jason East needed was for these officers to follow his orders.
"My lord..." Kent's face was hesitant. The corners of his mouth twitched a few times. He finally asked in a low voice, "We... we can definitely win this time, right?"
Jon, Marbu, McCann, and Rubin also looked over. Each of them had the same bit of unease in their eyes.
Jason East saw the fear in their eyes. He knew that even though he had done the best he could, for the natives of Westeros, facing these legendary monsters was terrifying.
"Don't worry," Jason said, forcing a confident smile. "We've got enough gasoline. That's the oil that burns violently when you light it. It's the best weapon against these ghouls!"
------------------------
For Advance chapters visit : patreon.com/Mythic_Muse