Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Swish! Swish! Swish!
All one hundred and twenty members of the Thorn Legion loosed a coordinated volley. The whistling arrows tore through the air in an unending roar of wind.
Thud!
Thud! Thud!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
A rain of black arrows fell from the sky. The wildings charging forward at full speed were pierced one after another, dropping as they ran, their wails filling the battlefield.
The wilding chieftains had never witnessed long-range arrow saturation like this. Gripped by fear, they roared even louder, desperately urging their warriors to rush forward faster.
Ser Massen stared at the area more than a hundred meters in front of the formation—the killing zone created by the Thorn Legion's volley fire—and was secretly shocked.
After sustaining rapid volleys for a while, Glyn could clearly feel that the Thorn Legion's rate of fire had begun to slow.
More than two hundred wildings fell under the continuous volleys. Disorder spread through their ranks, and a small number of them ignored their leaders' howls and fled backward.
After several dozen more dropped, a large-scale disorderly retreat broke out among the wildings. Glyn decisively ordered the archers to cease fire.
Ser Massen immediately commanded the two hundred Crabb warriors held in reserve—armed primarily with shields, longswords, and spears—to advance against the collapsing enemy.
Marching forward in unison with loud chants, the Crabb warriors surged ahead with overwhelming momentum.
The average length of service among the Crabb warriors exceeded ten years. Every one of them was a battle-hardened veteran.
Beginning with Glyn's mother, these warriors were elite soldiers who had survived more than a decade of constant fighting against the mountain wildings. They were the true foundation of the Crabb family.
As the Crabb warriors advanced in step to their chants, the wildings—already terrified out of their wits—fell into even greater fear and chaos.
Occasionally, a chieftain would manage to rally a small group and hurl them against the Crabb formation, only for them to be instantly swallowed up.
In Glyn's eyes, these wildings—waiting to be captured or to surrender—were all reserve subjects of his territory. Judging by their behavior today, the name "wilding" suited them perfectly.
When it came to governing them in the future, the only solution Glyn could think of was strict law.
He sighed inwardly—perhaps it would need to be so detailed as regulating which foot one stepped out with first when leaving the house.
The game of thrones was about to begin. Military strength in hand was the true trump card. To achieve results quickly, Crabb Territory would have to become a massive military camp encompassing all its people.
Glyn confirmed the path of development best suited to his domain and no longer hesitated.
–
The Thorn Legion had only been formed a few days ago. Being able to carry out sustained volley fire already made today's performance nothing short of dazzling, and Emparo had clearly demonstrated her talent for commanding troops.
During the rest period, some of the spearwomen of the Thorn Legion simply… Well, one thing led to another. Glyn didn't quite know how to describe it—maybe it was too hot? Bare-chested?
A sea of pale skin stretched out before his eyes. Glyn very directly felt the physical characteristics of the Crabb Territory's spearwomen… sturdy and big.
Following Glyn's line of sight, Emparo—standing rigidly beside him with a serious expression—also noticed what was happening. Not sure what she thought of, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.
A few spearwomen who noticed Glyn's gaze instead looked back boldly, even brazenly thrusting out their chests.
If this were his previous life, Glyn might have whistled and flashed a thumbs-up.
But a lord had to mind his image. That was a lesson ingrained by the memories of the body's former mother, and Glyn wholeheartedly agreed. Besides, on the continent of Westeros, a raised thumb did not signify approval.
Unknown gestures were easily misunderstood—and in Crabb Territory, men who went out had better learn to protect themselves.
Glyn merely let a slight smile show and calmly shifted his gaze elsewhere.
The reasoning behind why soldiers need to pay attention to appearance was something he couldn't really explain to them, and this wasn't the right occasion to talk about it anyway.
Glyn decided that in the future, soldier bearing and appearance would be added to their training curriculum. Given enough time, everyone would get used to it.
After a short rest, the Thorn Legion, following Glyn's orders, joined the main force in pursuing the routing wildlings.
–
Ser Pell's Recon Corps had already taken down one tribe. The first engagement was extremely successful—thanks to the surprise attack, only a few soldiers suffered minor wounds, and there were no fatalities.
In the first tribe they captured, the Recon Corps took nearly three hundred prisoners.
The mountain wildlings lived by hunting and gathering wild fruit. Their spoils consisted mainly of pelts and dried meat. The Recon Corps only found a small pouch of gold dragons in the chieftain's hut—just over ten coins, not even twenty.
All the spoils were loaded directly onto the prisoners' backs, and Ser Pell ordered the tribe's village to be burned to the ground.
A portion of the prisoners who resisted after the village was set ablaze were executed on the spot. Twenty men were detached from the Recon Corps to escort the remaining prisoners back to the territory.
Ser Pell instructed the small unit's captain, "Once the prisoners reach the outskirts of the territory, someone will receive them. If you get hungry, chew on dried meat, but you are not to stop. After handing over the prisoners, return immediately to rendezvous with me. Be careful on the road—I'll be waiting for you at the second tribe."
"If the prisoners show the slightest sign of unrest along the way, execute them immediately. Do not hesitate."
After giving his instructions, Ser Pell patted the captain on the shoulder and said at last, "Go."
By nightfall, Ser Pell had finished dealing with three major tribes.
The Recon Corps rested directly in the third tribe, then at dawn the next day escorted the prisoners and spoils back to the territory.
On their return, they encountered several scattered groups of fleeing wildlings and captured several dozen more.
In its first deployment, the Recon Corps suffered twenty-three fatalities.
–
After two days of simple reorganization, the Crabb family's soldiers began launching planned attacks on the remaining small tribes, operating in groups of thirty to fifty men.
All prisoners were escorted to Crabb Territory, and all wildling villages were burned down.
Ser Massen personally escorted the final batch of prisoners. Upon returning to Whispers Town, he happened to see Steward Heschel standing at the entrance of the storehouse, his large belly protruding, his face wreathed in smiles.
Ser Massen was in a good mood as well and joked, "Old friend, you seem to be in high spirits."
Steward Heschel replied with the same smile, "Good day, Ser Massen. The storehouses can barely hold all the pelts anymore—we haven't been this well supplied in a long time."
Ser Massen sighed with emotion, "Indeed. The lord seems born for war. The wildlings hadn't even reached us when the Thorn Legion's volley fire broke them outright. This is the first time our casualties have been so low."
"Heschel, I no longer have any doubts about the lord's decision to reclaim Crabb's old lands. I'm full of confidence."
"Yes, Ser," Heschel said. "I'm full of confidence as well. The Crabb family will reclaim its old lands in the end!"
"Ser, go inside and prepare. For tonight's victory feast, Surana and I have been preparing for days—it's going to be extremely lavish. We can have a proper drink tonight."
–
Whispers Town, inside the lord's study.
Glyn, Maester Al, and Kaleya had more or less finished tallying the gains from this war.
There were more than 2,500 prisoners in total, including nearly 700 elderly people and children.
Of the remaining roughly 1,800, about 1,200 were women—far more women than men.
To prevent the prisoners from banding together, the first step was to completely break them up. Around each individual, the vast majority had to come from unfamiliar tribes.
To absorb the population as peacefully as possible, this required careful planning. There could be no haste—everything had to be done for the sake of stability.
Once dispersed, they would then be sent in batches to various parts of the territory and assigned to labor.
In the beginning, each legion would still need to cooperate with the bailiffs to watch over and deter them.
Glyn leaned back against the chair, feeling somewhat tired.
He was truly tired, but his mood was excellent. With prisoners taking over labor, Crabb Territory could free up most of its able-bodied workforce.
Crabb Territory could immediately begin a second round of recruitment. For now, Glyn's greatest source of joy was mass conscription.
Mass conscription makes me happy!
--
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