Ser Pell's voice was full of pride. "My lord, I can command a hundred men as easily as moving my own arm."
Just a centurion, Glyn thought, looking down on him in his heart. You are really proud of that.
In his past life, in games, he had easily commanded armies of hundreds of thousands.
But now this was the real world—a living version of Age of Empires. Completely different.
Crackclaw Point had long been full of chaos, yet its lands were wide and its people few. By true war standards, this place was pure backwater. Most battles here were little more than large brawls.
None of them had ever seen a real battlefield. That was a problem.
Still, someone like Pell—who had fought his whole life and knew how to command—was almost unbeatable in this region.
He had reason to be proud. That much was fair.
Glyn showed a satisfied smile and continued walking with Ser Pell.
Inside The Whispers Castle, after a period of strict management, everything had become clean. The strange smells were gone.
These small changes lifted Glyn's mood and lightened his steps.
Tonight, he decided, the kitchen would add an extra dish. Rewards mattered sometimes.
–
In a training ground inside Whispers Castle.
More than twenty men stood there, each tall and strong, like iron towers.
They were House Crabb's most elite warriors—men strong enough to fight in full plate armor.
The mountain clans called them the Iron-Skins.
When they saw Glyn and Pell arrive, they stopped at once and bowed.
Glyn picked up a wooden training sword from the rack, weighed it in his hand, and said, "Who wants to spar with me?"
The group fell silent. They looked at each other.
Glyn pointed at one man. "You. Yes, you."
The man was stiff at first, but relaxed as he stepped forward. He spoke seriously. "My lord, my name is Fuli… you might get hurt."
Glyn laughed softly. "If you hurt me, I'll add a roasted lamb leg to your lunch."
"Fat. Dripping with oil."
The big man swallowed and nodded.
News that the young lord was sparring spread through the castle at an unbelievable speed. People rushed over from everywhere.
By the time Glyn removed his outer coat, handed it to a servant, and took his stance again, a huge crowd had gathered. The speed was absurd, almost unreasonable.
"Ooooh!"
"Ahhh!"
Fuli's spirits were high, driven by the promise of roasted lamb and the roar of the crowd.
He moved fast, but he held back his full strength.
Fuli was not foolish. Truly hurting the lord might ruin the taste of that lamb. Better to scare the young lord a little, let him give up, and still save his reputation.
When Fuli swung his wooden sword downward, Glyn raised his sword with one hand and blocked it with ease. He pushed forward sharply.
A sudden force slammed into Fuli. His body reacted on instinct, but he was still driven back three full steps.
"My warrior," Glyn said calmly, "be serious. Show me your true strength."
"Ooooh!!"
"Fuli! Did the Kent Pleasure House keep you overnight yesterday? Feeling weak now?"
"Shut up! I'll kill you!"
"Hahaha! Weak already!"
The big man Fuli's dark face slowly turned red.
Damn it. What nonsense are these idiots saying? The lord is genuinely strong. What do you know?!
Fuli steadied himself. His hand on the sword hilt relaxed for a moment, then tightened again. His eyes sharpened as he entered the battle state he had learned through real blood and danger.
Bang!
Thud!
Dust burst into the air, then slowly settled.
Fuli lay on his back, staring at the sky, his face empty and lifeless.
I really tried…
Silence.
Then cheers exploded.
Glyn kept a modest smile and waved lightly to the crowd, returning their passion.
In Whispers Castle, the heavy mood that had lingered since Glyn's mother's death was swept away in an instant.
The gloom was gone.
Ser Pell was shocked by the strength Glyn had shown.
With his seasoned sword skills, Pell could clearly see that Glyn had not gone all out at all. He had defeated Fuli with ease.
Fuli's sword skill was weaker than his own, but his body was powerful. If Pell had faced him, he would have needed to stay cautious just to avoid losing.
The young lord had grown up. He was becoming stronger and stronger.
House Crabb had a bright future ahead.
–
On a wooden platform beside the training field, Housekeeper Surana stood with her eldest daughter, Kaleya. They watched Glyn's figure slowly fade into the distance.
"My daughter," Surana said softly, "Lord Glyn is very strong. His children would be as sturdy as young calves."
Kaleya had the dark hair common on Crackclaw Point. As the Housekeeper's daughter, her slightly wavy long hair was well cared for.
She was close to one meter sixty tall.
Kaleya's deep green eyes turned to Surana. "Mother, but… an illegitimate child… I want to marry a brave knight. I don't want to be a mistress who bears a bastard."
"Every girl in Westeros dreams of marrying a brave knight," Surana said gently. "But my poor child, your status is not enough. Wealthy knights will not look at you. The ones who might are fallen knights, or widowed knights. Can you bear a poor life? Can you truly serve an old man?"
Kaleya stayed silent, stubbornly refusing to answer.
"Mother will not harm you," Surana continued. "Love alone cannot support a life. It will change."
Kaleya turned away in anger. "So my opinion doesn't matter at all? Then just strip me naked and throw me into the lord's bed!"
"You—"
In everyone's eyes, Surana was always cold and serious, like a walking ice statue.
All her softness was given to the daughter she loved most—Kaleya.
Surana blinked, stepped closer, and gently rested her chin on Kaleya's head.
"If things were really that simple, your mother would be at ease."
"Yesterday, I tested the waters," Surana said softly. "It seems I was refused. I feel that Lord Glyn did not take interest in you."
Kaleya broke free from Surana's arms and stared into her eyes, checking if she was joking.
I'm the prettiest girl in our village, Kaleya thought, disbelief written all over her face.
Are you serious?
Surana looked at her daughter with satisfaction and gently touched her cheek.
Skin white like milk, soft and smooth.
"Your mother is only a Housekeeper," Surana said. "I have a place in House Crabb, but no noble status. If you were plain-looking, I would not have to worry so much."
"As you grow older, you bloom like a flower. People will watch you, for many different reasons. Sooner or later, your beauty will become your danger."
"All the years I have lived tell me how cruel this world is. Among all the people I know, the only one who would not mistreat you and could truly protect you is Lord Glyn."
Kaleya's eyes turned red. She hugged Surana tightly, breathing in the familiar scent. "Mother…"
Surana gently rubbed Kaleya's hair. "Maybe there are better people out there, but Mother does not want you to leave. I would never feel at ease letting you face the world alone. Are you willing to leave me?"
No, never… Kaleya shook her head hard in Surana's arms.
"Yesterday I mentioned you to Lord Glyn," Surana said quietly. "But he showed no reaction at all. I turned over all night and could not sleep."
Kaleya gave a muffled sound, buried in Surana's soft chest.
–
Glyn spent the entire afternoon busy at the forge, the carpenter's workshop, and other places. After dinner, he spoke at length with Ser Pell about the mountain clans.
At last, the day came to an end.
Glyn soaked in the hot water of a wooden bathtub, letting his body relax.
He let out a comfortable breath and thought about tomorrow's meeting with the most famous spear-woman in the territory—Emparo. She was said to be a powerful hunter with excellent archery.
Creak.
The sound of a wooden door opening cut sharply through the quiet night.
The footsteps were light.
Glyn's heart stirred. One hand was already reaching for the short sword leaning beside the tub.
Closer.
His brown eyes flickered.
The girl's olive-green linen dress was thin, with a low, split neckline.
"Please forgive my rudeness, Lord Glyn."
She bowed lightly.
"I am Kaleya, daughter of Housekeeper Surana."
(End of chapter)