Time ticked away, second by second.
Inside the great hall of the Twins, the standoff had reached a fever pitch. A suffocating pressure weighed heavily on everyone present.
Beneath the anxious expressions of Rhaegar Frey and Black Walder lay a hidden sliver of secret delight.
They had been waiting for the seat of the Lord of the Crossing for far too many years.
And they practically wished Galon would just send old Walder to the heavens right then and there.
After all, how could there be a crown prince for thirty years in this world?
However, with so many eyes watching them, they could not press too hard openly.
They could only advance toward Galon's room step by step, continuously shouting demands for him to release old Walder.
Meanwhile, Galon's heart began to sink bit by bit.
He keenly realized that old Walder's usefulness was rapidly dwindling, and it would not be long before the Freys outside charged in.
Seeing this, Galon dragged old Walder close to his side and sneered.
"My Lord, it seems your sons and grandsons can't wait for you to die.
Well, it makes sense. You've lived ninety years. If you don't die, how can they take your place?
Since that's the case, I might as well fulfill their wishes!"
With that, he raised his greatsword, making a motion to drive it into old Walder's body.
Old Walder shook all over from terror, barely able to keep his footing. His face was filled with pure panic as he frantically begged for mercy.
"Lord Glover, spare me, spare my life!"
"I'll make them back off right now!"
He spun his head around and screamed at the hall outside. "You bastards, did you hear me? Fall back this instant!"
But both Rhaegar Frey and Black Walder turned a deaf ear.
The soldiers under their command, holding shields and gripping swords, continued to close in step by step.
"Good, very good!"
Hearing the footsteps, old Walder knew his heirs utterly disregarded his life.
Having held absolute power for decades, a furious rage instantly exploded within the old lord.
"Everyone, listen to me! Whoever stops these two bastards, Rhaegar and Black Walder, I will let him inherit the Twins!
I have so many sons and grandsons, I don't care if I lose two of them!"
The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the hall shifted completely.
Every Frey who possessed even a remote claim to the inheritance cast a greedy gaze toward Rhaegar and Black Walder.
"Stop them! They want Lord Walder to die!"
"Hold it! Are you trying to commit kinslaying?!"
Old Walder's other sons immediately led their own men to form a barrier in front of Rhaegar and Black Walder, continuously shouting at them to stand down.
In an instant, the two sides dissolved into utter chaos, arguing and shouting at one another uncontrollably.
Roose watched this scene unfold, his eyes darkening with malice.
He had already deduced that Galon was trying to buy time, but he could not fathom the purpose behind it.
'Even if he stalls until tomorrow, the Twins will still be the Twins. Could an army of the North somehow break inside?'
'Wait...Break inside...'
The images from earlier that day flashed through Roose's mind.
He instinctively craned his neck to scan the room for Rodrik Harlaw. But the great hall was a chaotic mess, and Harlaw was nowhere to be seen.
'Not good!'
Cursing silently in his mind, he immediately spoke to his personal guards.
"Something is wrong. Protect me and let us regroup with our army at once!"
The Bolton guard captain nodded dutifully, pushing through the crowd to shield Roose as they retreated toward the back.
Yet, just as Roose stepped out of the great hall, a loud, roaring tide of battle cries suddenly erupted from every corner of the castle, surging forward like a massive wave.
"Kill!"
"Vengeance for the Riverlands!"
"Vengeance for the North! Kill every Frey and Bolton!"
The sounds of thousands of men clashing instantly tore through the entirety of the Twins.
'That damned Harlaw, I actually fell for it!'
A flash of panic crossed Roose's eyes. He knew that staying here meant certain death.
"Go! Quick, to the eastern castle, regroup with our men!"
Ignoring the torrential rain, he frantically led his men in a sprint toward the stone bridge crossing the river to the east.
Back inside the great hall, everyone was completely stunned by the unexpected sounds of slaughter.
They stared at one another in mutual confusion, entirely unable to understand what was happening outside.
"It seems Lord Rickard has entered the castle."
"Now, as long as we hold this room, the western castle is as good as ours!"
"Those damned Freys..."
The men hidden inside the small room felt their hearts settle, and looks of joy appeared on their faces.
However, their words made old Walder's face turn deathly pale. He realized that the current situation was firmly within Galon's grasp.
Old Walder managed to steady his nerves and looked at Galon with a fawning, pathetic expression.
"Lord Glover, this was all Bolton's conspiracy!
He enticed me to kill you, saying there would be rewards from the Iron Throne!
I am old and muddle-headed, I only fell for his tricks because I lost my mind for a moment!"
Old Walder rambled on and on, shifting every ounce of blame onto Bolton, as if he himself were as pure as a white lotus.
Galon did not bother to pay him any attention.
His eyes remained fixed through the gaps in the barricade, carefully monitoring the situation outside to prevent the Frey family from doing anything desperate.
At that moment, a Frey soldier covered in blood came rolling and crawling into the hall.
He used the very last of his strength to scream, "My Lord! It's over! Countless... countless Northern soldiers have broken through the main gate!"
These words became the final straw that broke everyone's psychological defense. Inside the great hall, every face changed color.
"Get out of the way!"
The rage on Black Walder's face was completely undisguised.
"Glover's army has entered the castle! If we don't capture Glover right now, every single one of us is dead!"
The other Freys standing in front of Black Walder wavered, their expressions shifting rapidly as they weighed his words.
Galon knew things were turning sour and immediately roared:
"Do not listen to him! Lay down your weapons and surrender now!
I swear upon the honor of the North that I will only execute the chief instigators and will not harm the rest of you!"
The Freys became even more conflicted.
Black Walder cursed furiously:
"You pack of fools! Only by using Glover's life to threaten the Northern army do we have a sliver of hope!
Do you honestly think we'll survive if we surrender?!"
As his voice fell, the sounds of fighting drew closer and closer, to the point where even the pouring rain could no longer drown them out.
"Kill!"
"Charge inside!"
Seeing that the men in front of him were still hesitating, Black Walder drew his greatsword and shoved them aside with sheer force.
"Capture Glover, it's the only way we live!"
"Everyone, follow my command, charge into the room!"
Instantly, Black Walder's soldiers raised their shields, gripped their weapons, and rushed toward the western room.
The remaining descendants of old Walder who had been pushed aside reacted in various ways—
Some panicking, some just watching, some fleeing frantically toward the stone bridge, and others leading a portion of men outside to prepare for battle.
Only Black Walder's men were furiously hacking and pulling at the wooden tables blocking the doorway.
"Bring the fire oil!"
"Burn them! Burn them alive inside!"
As the fighting grew nearer, Black Walder grew increasingly crazed, until finally, the burning wooden tables were shoved outward by Galon.
"Everyone, the time to fight for our lives has come!"
"Hold out until Lord Rickard arrives, and we win!"
Holding his greatsword, Galon took the lead alongside Greatjon to block the doorway.
By utilizing the narrow entrance, Black Walder's men could only enter four at a time, making it impossible for them to overwhelm the defenders all at once.
Clad in his Valyrian steel scale armor, Galon fought without a shred of fear, firmly holding the threshold through sheer martial prowess.
No matter how many of Black Walder's men came, they were wounded or cut down.
They simply could not breach the room.
"Damn it!"
While both sides were locked in a bitter, bloody struggle, Patrek led eight hundred Northerners to the guard tower of the river stone bridge.
"Patrek?"
"Why are you here?"
A few Frey soldiers responsible for keeping watch looked through the iron portcullis.
Seeing Patrek approaching with a massive group of men, they immediately felt a sense of dread.
Sure enough, Patrek took a step forward and spoke in a low voice.
"The opportunity I spoke of before has arrived. The Northern army has entered the castle. The Twins will fall sooner or later."
"You... you betrayed Lord Walder?"
"No, I am giving us a chance!"
"What kind of chance?"
"When this is over, Lord Glover has promised to name me the Lord of the Twins, and all of you will be my landed vassals!"
"Let's do it!"
As a member of a cadet branch of House Frey, Patrek knew their hardships intimately.
With just a few sentences, he successfully persuaded the men he had long since swayed to surrender.
The iron portcullis slowly ground upward.
The eight hundred men led by Patrek swiftly took control of the stone bridge guard tower and immediately sealed the iron gate leading to the eastern castle.
Before long, the Freys and Boltons at the eastern castle also heard the sounds of battle and hurried to the bridge tower with their forces.
"Open the gate!"
"Open the gate quickly, let us cross!"
"You bastards, can't you hear the fighting over there? What do you think you're doing?!"
Accompanied by a chorus of angry cursing, a flash of cold cruelty crossed Patrek's eyes.
"Loose!"
He gave the command without expression. Instantly, a rain of arrows shot down from the guard tower, pelting the men below.
Caught completely off guard, a large number of Bolton and Frey soldiers were killed on the spot.
"Fall back! Fall back!"
"Seven hells, the men in the guard tower have mutinied!"
"Go back, go back first!"
But with an army of several thousand men crammed onto the stone bridge and the rain pouring down heavily, the men at the back could not hear what the men at the front were shouting.
The crowd constantly jostled and shoved against one another, falling into absolute chaos.
Amidst a barrage of screams, men were continuously pushed off the stone bridge, plunging into the roaring currents of the Green Fork below, their fates unknown.
This entire spectacle was witnessed clearly by Roose, who was hiding in the shadows.
'Damn it, a step too late!'
'Glover really has calculated every single move!'
The calm on Roose's face vanished, replaced by furious curses. He realized that if he did not think of a solution fast, he would be facing a dead end.
"My Lord, what should we do next?"
Hearing his guard captain's question, Roose forced down his panic. His eyes darted around as a plan formed in his mind.
"Go to the guest chambers. Capture Edmure. As long as we have him in our hands, even Glover will have to let us leave."
"Move!"
Roose knew that going to join Black Walder now was a death sentence; the Northern army had likely surrounded the great hall so tightly that not a drop of water could leak out.
The only way to survive now was to secure Edmure Tully as quickly as possible.
However, the western castle had already turned into a bloody slaughterhouse.
No matter where they went, the Northern coalition forces were everywhere.
Roose and his men hid and dodged along the way, using the heavy rain as cover to creep toward the guest chambers.
Yet, just as he was about to arrive, he rounded a corner and slammed directly into Lord Tallhart and Lord Bracken, who were clearing out the remaining Freys.
"Roose Bolton!"
Lord Tallhart recognized the traitor instantly. He let out a furious roar and charged forward with his sword raised.
"You treacherous, faithless bastard!"
"Give me your life!"
Roose had nowhere left to retreat.
A look of despair flashed across his eyes, knowing that he would not be escaping today under any circumstances.
"Fight them to the end!"
He snatched a sword from one of his guards, roared, and led his men forward.
But against Northern soldiers who outnumbered them several times over, they were utterly defenseless.
In less than a single minute, Roose's personal guards were completely slaughtered.
He himself was struck in the thigh by a longsword lunging out from an unknown direction during the melee.
As he stumbled, Lord Tallhart's greatsword cleaved directly into his chest.
"Agh..."
Bloody froth spilled from the corner of his mouth.
In those exceptionally pale eyes, a final hint of unwillingness and bewilderment surfaced.
"Why... why..."
But no one answered his question, leaving his corpse to be soaked in the pouring rain.
Roose could never have dreamed that he would ultimately die in a skirmish so completely devoid of honor.
"Come, let's check the guest chambers!"
Lord Tallhart spat on the corpse, turned around, and led his soldiers to search the rooms.
Meanwhile, the great hall of the Twins' western castle had already become an isolated island.
Countless defeated Frey soldiers fled in terror toward this final barrier, trying to seek refuge.
But their arrival only made the area more crowded and chaotic.
Lord Rickard stood with a cold expression, directing the army to completely surround the great hall on one hand, while ordering men to batter down the closed doors on the other.
However, the great hall, which could hold eight hundred people at most, was crammed with nearly a thousand men.
The inside was packed so tightly that every single inch of floor space was occupied by a human being.
Therefore, no matter how hard the Northern soldiers pushed against the doors, they were held firmly shut by the weight of the Freys pressed against them from the inside.
"Bastards, stop pushing!"
"Don't push me!"
Black Walder squeezed his body with all his might, shouting desperately, but his body was inadvertently pushed right into the room where Galon was located.
The two sides were barely half a meter apart.
"Uh..."
Looking at the malicious smile on Galon's face, cold sweat broke out all over Black Walder's forehead.
Although he had just boasted about fighting Galon one-on-one, he knew very well that he was no match for him.
He wanted to step backward, but the people behind him blocked his path, making it impossible to squeeze out.
"Damn it..."
Black Walder cursed, gripping his axe tightly and aiming it at Galon.
But Galon merely sneered.
Without giving him any time to react, he effortlessly drove his sword right through Black Walder's chest.
"Drop your weapons and surrender on the spot! In the name of Glover and the honor of the North, I swear I will not harm you!"
Galon watched coldly as Black Walder's corpse fell to the floor and was trampled by the Frey soldiers.
Then, he suddenly roared at the top of his lungs.
Following his roar, Greatjon Umber and the others joined in the shouting.
"Drop your weapons! Surrender and live!"
The shouts of a hundred men boomed like thunder, echoing throughout the entire hall.
The rioting crowd gradually quieted down, listening to Galon's booming voice from within the room.
Finally, someone was the first to speak up.
"I surrender."
"I surrender too."
Amidst the cascading waves of surrenders, the doors to the great hall were finally opened.
Under the watchful gaze of countless Northern soldiers holding swords and spears, the soldiers of House Frey dropped their weapons one by one, walking out with anxious, trembling steps.
"Kneel down!"
"All of you, kneel down!"
Lord Rickard ordered his men to strictly guard the Frey soldiers, who could only kneel in the muddy water under the torrential rain.
The situation was completely brought under control.
Galon breathed a sigh of relief, though his face maintained a confident, triumphant expression.
He looked at the survivors who had entered the castle with him and laughed aloud.
"My friends, we won!"
In an instant, cheers of victory resounded throughout the entire Twins.
This Red Wedding had finally brought its curtain down with Galon's absolute victory.
__________
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