The clamor and frenzy of the wedding were finally replaced by the morning chill of Winterfell.
When Lynn opened his eyes, it was still dark.
The fire in the fireplace had burned out, leaving only a few dark red embers.
Arya, beside him, was sleeping soundly, one hand still gripping him tightly, as if afraid Lynn would suddenly disappear.
Her face, which usually held a hint of stubbornness, was now full of peace.
Lynn gently brushed aside the stray hairs on her forehead and pressed a kiss to her brow.
Arya's eyelashes trembled, and the corners of her mouth unconsciously curved upwards.
He didn't disturb her, silently got up, and dressed.
Today, there were more important things to do... The atmosphere in the main hall of Winterfell was solemn.
The long tables had been removed, replaced by a large map of Westeros spread in the center.
The wolves of the North were no longer the drunkards from last night's feast; they had changed into their respective family armors, with longswords at their waists.
Every face was etched with the gravity of going to war.
Ned Stark stood before the map.
Behind him was Robb, also fully armed.
Everyone's gaze was focused on Lynn.
Last night's wedding had made him "one of their own" in the eyes of everyone present.
His words carried even more weight than Ned's own.
Lynn didn't waste words, getting straight to the point.
"To fight south, we must first consolidate our forces."
His gaze swept over every lord present.
"Lord Umber."
"Here!"
Greatjon Umber stepped forward, his voice as booming as a bell. "My Last Hearth can field two thousand men! All are strong warriors who can wrestle bears with their bare hands!"
"Lady Mormont."
"Bear Island can field six hundred men."
Maege Mormont's voice was steady and strong.
"We have no knights, but every woman of Bear Island knows how to cleave an enemy's skull with a battle-axe."
Lyanna Mormont, behind her, puffed out her small chest and nodded vigorously, indicating that her mother's words were true.
"Lord Karstark."
Rickard Karstark stroked his thick beard: "Karhold can field three hundred cavalry and two thousand infantry."
"Lord Manderly."
"Hehe,"
Wyman Manderly squeezed out from the crowd, his massive frame causing the surrounding lords to instinctively step back half a pace.
"White Harbor can provide five hundred knights and one thousand five hundred soldiers for the army."
"Furthermore, my White Harbor fleet is ready to be dispatched at any time to transport soldiers and provisions."
His words invigorated everyone.
Naval power, this was the most scarce resource in the North.
Subsequently, the Glover, Tallhart, and other families also reported their available forces.
Finally, everyone's eyes fell on the quiet corner.
"Lord Bolton."
Lynn's voice was very calm.
Roose Bolton emerged from the shadows, his pale face showing no expression.
"The Dreadfort can field five hundred cavalry and three thousand infantry."
His voice was soft, yet clear.
"My bastard, Ramsay, will lead them personally."
Lynn nodded, but a cold laugh echoed in his heart.
Five hundred cavalry, three thousand infantry.
The Dreadfort was almost completely emptied.
This Lord Bolton was truly "loyal."
"Very good."
Lynn turned to the map.
"Including Winterfell's forces, we can assemble an army of over twenty thousand in the shortest possible time."
"The forces are sufficient; next, is the choice of commander."
Everyone's eyes subconsciously looked at Ned Stark.
Ned, however, shook his head and placed his hand on his son's shoulder.
"I am old."
His voice held a hint of self-mockery.
"This war belongs to the young."
Lynn interjected.
"Although I am the king-beyond-the-wall, I am not familiar with the Northern army."
"For this war, we need a commander who understands the North and is trusted by everyone."
His gaze fell on Robb Stark.
"I propose that Robb Stark be appointed the overall commander of this southern expedition!"
Greatjon Umber was the first to agree.
"That's right! I agree!"
"Robb is the heir of House Stark, he has been learning warfare from Ned since he was a child, if he commands, I, Umber, will be the first to obey!"
The other lords also echoed their agreement.
Robb Stark, the young man who had always lived in his father's shadow, stood before everyone for the first time.
Robb took a deep breath, and on his young face, there was no trace of timidity, but rather a burning fighting spirit.
"Thank you for your trust!"
His voice was loud and firm.
"I, Robb Stark, will never disgrace the honor of the North!"
He walked to the map, the youthful vigor and confidence belonging to him fully displayed at this moment.
"Gentlemen, look!"
Robb's finger pointed to the Kingsroad that ran north and south on the map.
"My plan is simple and direct."
"We will gather all our forces and march south at full speed along the Kingsroad, striking The Twins with the force of a thunderbolt!"
"House Frey thinks we Northerners are slow-witted fools; they will never expect our vanguard to be so swift!"
"As long as we can break through The Twins and cut off Walder Frey's head before the Vale reinforcements arrive."
"Then, the crisis in the entire Riverlands can be easily resolved!"
Robb's voice was full of passion and charisma; his plan was simple, brutal, and full of the youthful momentum of forging ahead.
Greatjon Umber listened, his blood boiling, and he slapped his thigh.
"Good! Let's do it! Go straight for the heart! I like it!"
The other lords also nodded, this plan indeed sounded feasible, full of the style Northerners liked.
Just do it!
Lynn looked at the spirited Robb, a approving smile on his face, and added.
"Lord Robb's plan has a high feasibility."
"My men can serve as the vanguard, clearing obstacles along the way for the army."
With Lynn's endorsement, the plan was almost set in stone in everyone's eyes.
However, amidst this enthusiastic atmosphere, a hint of something no one noticed—contempt—flashed in Roose Bolton's indifferent eyes.
An army marching south?
Straight to The Twins?
What a... laughably naive plan.
He admitted that the only advantage of this plan was its speed.
But its disadvantages were equally fatal.
Putting twenty thousand troops all on one road, the target was too large, and their movements would inevitably be hampered.
If House Frey held The Twins stubbornly, and the Vale reinforcements flanked them, the Northern army would be caught in a desperate situation, attacked from both front and rear.
This was not a war at all, but a reckless gamble.
Gambling that House Frey was no match, gambling that the Vale reinforcements were a bunch of cripples.
Foolish.
Roose Bolton made his judgment internally.
But he said nothing.
He merely nodded slightly, like the other lords, indicating his agreement with the plan.
Ned Stark, that old fool, actually trusted his inexperienced son with the lives of twenty thousand men.
And that Lynn... seemed to be nothing special either.
Perhaps exceptional in martial prowess, but strategically, still a greenhorn.
After all, he was too young to be of great use.
Nothing special.
Very good.
Let them go.
Let them take the North's finest and smash themselves against the walls of The Twins.
He could already foresee the terrible resentment that would erupt from the families who lost husbands and sons when news of the defeat reached the North.
By then, he, Roose Bolton, would be the one to pick up the pieces.
"Since no one has any objections."
Ned Stark finally decided.
"Then we will proceed according to Robb's plan!"
"Each family will immediately return to prepare their armies and logistics; in seven days, assemble outside Winterfell!"
"Yes, my lord!"
The lords responded in unison, then dispersed, and soon only the Stark family and Lynn remained in the hall.
Roose Bolton was the last to leave.
As he passed Lynn, he even bowed slightly to him, saying in his uniquely soft tone.
"Lord Lynn, happy wedding."
"Thank you."
Lynn wore a warm smile.
It wasn't until Roose Bolton's figure completely disappeared from the hall entrance that the spirited enthusiasm on Robb's face instantly collapsed.
He let out a long breath, slumped to the ground, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"My Seven Gods... I felt like a jester performing on stage just now."
Robb looked shaken.
"Especially when facing Lord Bolton's eyes, I always feel like he can see right through my heart."
"You acted very well, better than I imagined."
Lynn walked over and nudged his leg.
"He's already impatient to go and inform his new allies."
Ned Stark looked at the two little foxes, an expression of exasperation on his face.
He walked over and spread the map out again.
"Alright, the madman and the fool have left."
Ned's voice deepened.
"Now, it's time to discuss the real plan."
The hall doors were silently closed, and several of the most loyal Stark guards stood outside, blocking any possibility of eavesdropping.
Greatjon Umber, Maege Mormont, and Wyman Manderly were quietly ushered back in by personal guards.
They were all key allies of House Stark and crucial to this plan.
When they entered the hall and saw the solemn expressions of the people gathered around the map, they were stunned.
"Ned, what... what is going on?"
Greatjon was completely bewildered.
"Wasn't the plan already finalized?"
Lynn smiled, pointing to The Twins on the map.
"Lord Umber, do you think the previous plan could truly capture this place?"
Greatjon Umber was not an idiot; he was just straightforward. After calming down and thinking about it, he realized something was amiss.
"It seems... a bit risky."
He scratched his head.
"Putting all our eggs in one basket, what if..."
"It's not 'what if'; something is certain to go wrong."
Lynn's tone was decisive.
"Lysa Arryn and Walder Frey are not fools. If they dare to do this, they must have something to rely on."
"With twenty thousand troops marching south in force, would they have no spies, no preparations?"
"Then just now..."
Maege Mormont frowned.
"That was an act, performed for certain people."
Lynn's gaze turned cold.
"We needed a traitor to tell a flawed plan to our enemies."
The three lords present understood instantly.
A cold sweat broke out on their backs almost simultaneously.
Roose Bolton!
The smile vanished for the first time from Wyman Manderly's plump face, replaced by deep apprehension.
They had long suspected something was wrong with the Bolton Family, but they never imagined Roose Bolton would be so bold!
He had truly decided to betray the North!
"That bastard!"
Greatjon's fists clenched, grinding audibly.
"I'll go twist his head off right now!"
"Don't be rash, Jon," Ned stopped him.
"Killing him now would only alert the enemy."
"Keep him alive; he still has a use."
All eyes focused once again on Lynn.
They knew the true plan would be revealed by this young man.
Lynn nodded.
"Please, everyone, do not act rashly."
"After all, we cannot definitively prove that Roose Bolton has betrayed us yet."
"But prevention is better than cure; caution is key."
Lynn's finger slowly traced a path on the map, outlining a route completely different from the previous one.
"War is the art of deception."
"Robb."
"Present!" Robb immediately straightened up.
"You will lead ten thousand infantry, following the 'fake plan' we just discussed, marching conspicuously south along the Kingsroad."
"You must move slowly, create a huge commotion, and make those ten thousand men look like twenty thousand!"
"Let everyone believe that the entire main force of the North is with you."
"You are the most obvious bait."
Excitement shone in Robb's eyes.
He understood; this was the true test of his abilities.
"Lord Manderly."
"Present, Lord Lynn."
The plump Lord of White Harbor quickly answered.
"I need your fleet. But not for transporting troops."
Lynn's finger tapped the sea east of White Harbor.
"I need all your merchant ships and warships to sail east, disguised as if heading to Essos for trade."
"In reality, however, under the cover of night, you must sail south along the coastline and arrive here."
Lynn's finger finally landed on an inconspicuous bay on the Claw Isle peninsula.
"Your mission is to blockade the entrance to Blackwater Bay."
"If any fleet from King's Landing attempts to sail north to provide support, you must bottle them up inside that bay!"
Lynn was currently fighting The Vale and The Riverlands, and he did not want Baratheon forces involved.
Wyman Manderly's eyes lit up.
This mission was low risk, high reward, and would allow him to strike a blow against the Southern merchants in King's Landing who competed with him—it was practically tailor-made.
"As for us..."
Lynn's finger started at Winterfell, tracing a strange arc that bypassed The Twins and everyone's expectations.
"The remaining five thousand elite cavalry, including my king-beyond-the-wall warriors, will be personally led by Lord Ned and me."
"We will not take the Kingsroad; instead, we will pass through The Neck."
"The Neck?!" Greatjon gasped in surprise.
"That place is full of swamps and venomous insects! An army can't possibly pass through there!"
"Under normal circumstances, an army cannot pass through."
Lynn smiled.
"But under the guidance of the crannogmen, they can."
Ned nodded, confirming Lynn's statement.
His friend, Howland Reed of Greywater Watch, is the Lord of The Neck.
Furthermore, Lynn had not yet explained.
He possessed Ice Magic, which could freeze the swamps.
Ice Magic was his trump card.
No ordinary person would ever think that an army would pass through a swamp; that would be no different from seeking death.
The swamp would likely swallow the entire army before a single battle was fought.
"Our target is not The Twins."
A wolf-like cold glint shone in Lynn's eyes.
"While everyone's attention is drawn by Robb's decoy army and the fighting at The Twins, our cavalry will strike from the rear, plunging straight into the heart of The Vale!"
His finger landed heavily on a spot on the map that no one had anticipated.
The Eyrie!
"Lysa Arryn thinks she is safe behind the impregnable defenses of The Eyrie?"
"She sent all of The Vale's elite forces to support House Frey, so her stronghold must be empty."
"We don't want her castle, nor her lands."
A cruel curve twisted Lynn's lips.
"I have received specific intelligence that Robert Arryn has been secretly sent back to The Eyrie by Lysa."
Of course, this information came through Greensight, which was essentially a map hack; Lynn could not miss this opportunity.
"I only want her sole son, Robert Arryn."
"As long as we capture that sickly boy, the entire Vale will become our hostage."
"When that happens, do you think the Knights of the Vale fighting in The Riverlands will continue to risk their lives for Lysa, or will they obediently drop their weapons and rush home to rescue their young lord?"
The hall fell into a deathly silence.
Greatjon, Maege, and Wyman—all three looked petrified, staring blankly at Lynn and the insane yet deadly attack route on the map.
They felt their minds could not keep up.
Feigning a move to the east while attacking the west, pretending to be unaware while secretly crossing the frontier, besieging Wei to rescue Zhao... They did not know these military stratagems, but they could recognize the feasibility of this plan.
The obvious move was attacking The Riverlands, but the actual plan was to directly assault The Eyrie, which was protected by natural barriers?
No one would ever expect Lynn to do this!
Initially, everyone was skeptical.
But when they thought of Lynn's dragon, everyone showed an expression of sudden realization.
No wonder Lynn was so confident.
Natural barriers were like a joke in front of a dragon.
They had already experienced the terror of Winter yesterday.
They had complete faith in the dragon.
How did this young man manage to devise such a... such a wicked yet perfect plan?
Directly kidnapping Robert Arryn followed the same logic as Lysa kidnapping Robb; they would inevitably lose their will to fight!
The look in their eyes toward Lynn had shifted from simple admiration to utter dread.
Being an enemy of this man was a nightmare.
Fortunately, he was on their side.
Ned Stark looked at Lynn, his heart similarly turbulent.
He knew Lynn was clever, but he never expected his intelligence to reach such an almost monstrous level.
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