Chapter 454 - Calling for Reinforcements and Making Plans.

Chapter 454: Chapter 454 - Calling for Reinforcements and Making Plans.

[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Reach, 300 AC.

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They finally left Crakehall territory and entered Durwell, in the Reach.

The Arctican army marched toward Durwell Castle, which stood at the center of the region, closer to the territory’s coast, while scouts from House Durwell, unsurprisingly, immediately advanced north under banners of peace.

Jon received them after confirming there was no threat in the area and rode out to meet them, accompanied by the leaders.

"Are you the King of Arctic?" one of them asked cautiously to the group that approached, with Jon always standing out with ease. It was possible to hear, from the man’s very voice, the nervousness they all carried at that moment.

Certainly, his actions in the Westerlands had not gone unnoticed. Especially after he had left the heart of the Westerlands, traveled north, and returned later.

Many people had fled south after witnessing entire castles being destroyed as if they were nothing.

That frightened everyone, even people who had nothing to do with the war and who would never be harmed by Arctic. Before long, rumors began to spread.

There might no longer be ravens flying through the region. Jon had also intercepted every raven that crossed the skies of the Reach. Even so, there were still people traveling on foot and riders carrying with them everything they had witnessed in the Westerlands, while others merely repeated what they had heard from those people.

In any case, Jon kept his gaze on the man. He was clearly terrified of dealing with them. It was a group of only eight men. They had not wanted to send more, so as not to give the impression that it was an affront, given the obvious certainty that they had no way of fighting them. Not with the entire army of the Reach gathered at King’s Landing.

"I am. And who are you, Ser?" Jon asked the elderly man, who was a knight no longer fit to go to war.

"I am Ser Sigma Flowers. I come on behalf of Lady Durwell. She asks that you show mercy to these lands. Durwell Castle serves as the region’s stronghold. She surrenders, but begs you to spare it. Spare the castle as well. The Reach has never caused trouble for you in the past, and Lady Durwell, in Lord Durwell’s absence, asks that you spare everyone. Our house will reward you in whatever way it can. I also make this request personally. I am a bastard who managed to become a knight after saving the current Lord Durwell’s grandmother from raiders. I have lived in these lands my entire life. If it is not too much to ask, and though I have little to offer, Your Majesty... I beg for your mercy." The man finished speaking while Jon watched him for a moment.

Jon was somewhat surprised by the bastard who had become a knight, but he soon nodded. "Inform your lady to leave the gates open. My men will cause no harm at this time," Jon said in a firm tone, making it clear that he was speaking the truth.

"We thank you for your mercy, Your Grace." The man nodded, having nothing more to do than trust Jon’s words. Soon, they began riding back south.

"Let’s move forward." Jon gave the order as fifteen thousand men advanced with him.

Wagon after wagon loaded with supplies accompanied the march, while around seven thousand men still remained at sea, leading the fleet. It had already been some time since nearly the entire army had disembarked.

He needed to display his numbers and resources. After all, he had to find a way to make the enemy follow him while he advanced into the lands of the Reach as well.

They made camp one day before reaching the next castle. Jon had gathered all of his commanders, studying a massive map.

"Well, we’re here, at the entrance to the Reach." One of them pointed to their location.

"The Lannister scouts have continued watching our camp since earlier," one of the army’s Warg scouts reported.

"Let them see us. It’s good that they’ve finally arrived. Let them report our numbers and everything in the camp. That way, Lady Durwell will also send word," Jon said, his arms crossed over the map.

Jon already knew that Lady Durwell had quickly dispatched a knight eastward to deliver information after her men returned following the announcement of her surrender, reporting everything they had seen.

It was obvious that she intended to surrender, but she could not leave her husband and her liege lords unaware that the enemy army was there. She would also inform the Lannisters.

Jon did not mind that at all. In fact, it was even better for him. He imagined the enemy would feel confident, believing that thirty thousand men against fifteen thousand was more than an opportunity. It was their chance to defeat them.

"The ships are still out of sight from the coast," another man said. Scouts continuously monitored the sea to ensure the fleet remained hidden several miles offshore.

"Excellent. Keep it that way. I hope no fisherman spots our ships before the time comes. Our battle will be fought north of Oakheart," Jon declared, pointing to the map.

"Your Majesty... I doubt there are any fishermen out at sea with the ironborn still raiding the south..." Arya commented.

"I know. But I hope it stays that way until the time comes. Then we’ll make ourselves fully visible to them."

"Your Majesty... an ambush?" Barristan Selmy asked.

"From the north. That’s the plan."

Jon needed the enemy to believe that he would continue advancing through Durwell. Meanwhile, he would quickly head south, entering Oakheart with the Lannister army chasing them.

They had to lure them south. And at a certain point, he would eliminate all of the enemy scouts to prevent any further information about his army from reaching Kevan Lannister.

While Kevan Lannister believed he was pursuing the Army of Arctic, the Arctican army would not attack from the south. Instead, they would circle around the enemy and strike from behind, using the ships to carry out the entire troop maneuver.

Everyone nodded upon hearing the king’s plan. Jon always thought differently, even among those already considered brilliant strategists. He always found openings on the battlefield or unexpected ways to deceive the enemy.

He enjoyed surprising all of his opponents most of the time. As demanding as all that logistics would be, it would prove fatal to the enemy while also minimizing Arctic’s casualties.

"Even so, they greatly outnumber us, Your Grace. Do you think we can handle all of them?" Lancelot asked.

Jon showed a faint smile. "Don’t worry about that. We’ve already faced enemies larger than ourselves and emerged victorious after slaughtering them as though they were nothing. We still possess weapons far more powerful than theirs. We have far better intelligence and discipline than any other army in Westeros."

"The entire army fought in the war against the monsters. They know how to fight in formation, they know how to follow orders, and they know how to be fearless. They have faced grotesque creatures like the Army of the Dead and still emerged victorious. Arctic fears nothing—not monsters, much less some small army from the south."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"In any case, Dragonstone and Driftmark are under our control. Ducken and Thor have finally reached the islands. They are now preparing to find a safer place on the mainland to land all the ships and the entire army," Jon continued. "I’ll have to write a few letters to some of the lords of the Crownlands. We’ll see who is loyal and who is not..."

It was an excellent idea, in fact. Having a port where he could land his entire army would be extremely useful. He could easily present that possibility to any lord. Those who accepted could still be watched to confirm whether they truly intended to honor their word or not.

"I intend to write the letters tonight."

"How are the Riverlands?" Barristan Selmy asked.

Jon displayed a faint smile. "They’re doing well. The combined forces of the new rebels are doing very well against the Freys."

Jon explained that the siege of Riverrun had already been broken and that most of the Freys were being massacred. Even Brynden Tully himself had finally opened the gates and marched with his men into battle, joining so many others.

Many lords also quickly joined them. What had once been the Freys’ oppression had turned into their flight. At that moment, they were being hunted down as they tried to retreat and maintain their formations.

Those simple, thin, unprepared men who had come practically to die on the front lines by their lords’ orders when Jon had called for men to fight and recruited them. Unlike before, they had become decent soldiers after one moon of training and another moon spent fighting in battle, following the orders of Arctic’s Royal Guard, Bari, who was still in command and had remained in the Riverlands.

They were nothing extraordinary, but they had already reached the standard expected of a respectable infantry force. Fighting alongside the other lords and soldiers, they were performing very well.

It was no longer a secret that the Twins had simply been wiped out. The Freys had lost their seat, and now they were also losing their last remaining men, who were being hunted down everywhere. They had nowhere left to flee, and surrendering essentially meant accepting a death sentence.

After everything they had done, no one was willing to spare a Frey. They were being slaughtered.

In any case, Jon turned his attention to the North as he explained the situation.

Wendel Manderly, Smalljon Umber, and other Northern men were still being held captive by Roose Bolton. However, any Lannister force sent to reinforce the North encountered the Arctican fleet along the way at sea and was completely annihilated.

The North was rising against the Boltons once again. Manderly, Glover, Reed, and others were raising their armies, while the Karstarks, Umbers, and Mormonts had already joined their men to the Arctican army and were marching. Other houses were advancing as well, while those that should have been Bolton allies simply refused to support them, leaving them completely isolated in Winterfell.

After Bran, Brynden, and the Arctican army, together with the Northern forces, had conquered all of the Boltons’ holdings, they were now marching toward the heart of House Stark’s power.

To the west, Pentos was no longer far away. The army would arrive soon, and Jon wanted to verify something in Pentos after realizing that Illyrio was paying far too much attention to the war. As he continued exchanging messages with Varys, Jon knew he would have to deal with that eunuch soon enough.

That made him think back to years earlier, when he had threatened Varys and Illyrio, telling them that if any information about Daenerys ever reached the king, they would pay for it. Back when he had taken her away from her brother and from Illyrio’s hands.

The man had never said anything, but that was irrelevant now. After all, he himself was a Targaryen in the eyes of all Seven Kingdoms. Having Daenerys only reinforced that claim even further, and Varys seemed afraid of that... Besides, almost no one in Westeros knew that they were married and had a son.

In any case, Jon ended the meeting after explaining everything to his leaders and headed to his tent just to breathe for a while.

Durwell had many forests, and its lands were surrounded by meadows and fields far larger than those of the Westerlands, where cliffs, stone, and rocky mountains predominated. Even so, there were also many trees and forests there, so much so that he had even taken the opportunity to capture a few lions he had come across.

That also made him think about the lion he had left behind in the Westerlands.

It was, essentially, his eyes within the enemy army, always following the cavalry. The soldiers had already grown accustomed to its presence. From time to time, it demanded fresh meat from them. As a result, the lion was no longer considered a threat, and Jon frequently controlled it.

There were not many lions in Arctic, so it was also interesting to collect a few.

Jon remained there, breathing in the night breeze from a higher part of the camp. No one disturbed him. Although everyone looked at him for obvious reasons, he was already used to it and simply ignored them.

At the same time, Jon was not surprised when Arya joined him. She stayed closer to him than she usually did.

She had managed to stop him from destroying Crakehall Castle when Lady Crakehall had nowhere left to go. Even after Jon had offered them shelter, he had ultimately let them go at Arya’s request.

"So you’re really going to call him?" Arya asked.

Jon merely gave a faint smile. "Our strategy is flawless, but I want to guarantee the survival of all our people. If we have something that can protect us and help us in the war, there’s no reason not to use it. Besides, people already know he exists... It’s no wonder they’re always asking whether we really have dragons in the North..." Jon said with a sigh.

Arya simply nodded. The two remained in silence, comfortable in each other’s presence.

At the same time, without anyone noticing, Jon was already at work. All he had to do was shift his consciousness northward. Far beyond the Westerlands, the Riverlands, the North, and even the Wall, he could see everything as though he were flying at incredible speed, until he found the radiant kingdom of Arctic.

The city was exactly as it should be.

Its streets glowed with magical crystals, while much of the city remained full of activity. People were leaving taverns, others discussed matters in the squares, birds flew overhead, children ran through the streets, parents talked among themselves, inns were crowded, and public announcements spoke of the war in the south, since news took time to arrive because of the Wall’s great distance.

Closer to the tree at the center, the Children of the Forest prayed or simply played, using the crystals to see in the darkness.

The castle stood on the other side of the giant tree. His wives were tending to their daily routines. Some were reading to the children, others were watching over them as they played, while his sons ran from one side to the other.

Jon had to ignore all of that, making the greatest effort to maintain so many visions at once, even without using any animal.

It felt strange, but now he was capable of doing something like that. As long as he concentrated far more than he normally did with his warg abilities, his vision could travel, allowing him to see things that no one else could.

He found a pair of little green eyes in one of the rooms and could not help but smile, even though he was physically in the lands of Durwell. His son, Ned Arctic, seemed to be looking directly at the very place Jon was observing from with those green eyes.

Could he sense Jon’s presence? The thought surprised him a little, but he soon had to break the connection when Val approached the boy, who began making soft sounds while continuing to stare at the same spot.

Jon then moved beyond the castle. At last, he found Eragon, sleeping atop Dragon Mountain.

The dragon’s sapphire-blue eyes slowly opened as he blinked several times. Eragon immediately understood Jon’s summons.

His enormous body rose, awakening a few dragons that had been sleeping nearby. As the only existing quadrupedal dragon, he planted his paws on the ground, spread his wings, and leaped from the mountain. During the descent, he fully unfurled his wings and quickly gained altitude once again.

All of the Valyrian steel forges beneath Dragon Mountain were still operating. The dwarves themselves tended them, since the dragons had already been trained to unleash their flames inside the structures to produce dragonfire and forge Valyrian steel every single day.

The army was already extremely well equipped with magical steel, but more weapons continued to be produced, to the point where they had become something commonplace. Like everything else in Arctic that should have been impossible for the people south of the Wall.

In any case, Eragon first flew over the city, surprising the population, since it was unusual for a dragon to fly during the night.

His roars echoed through the air, alerting everyone in the palace as he circled the great tree. With one final, mighty roar, he simply flew south, leaving the kingdom behind.

Using his own ability, his wings became completely white, and he accelerated like a living cannon toward the south.

This was one of the trump cards Jon had at his disposal.

He knew Eragon could reach the south far faster than any other creature. Using that incredible burst of speed, he could cross the entire continent in just a few hours and would already be where Jon was.

In any case, Jon blinked.

Arya had remained beside him the entire time, and when he became aware of his surroundings again, he noticed that she was holding his hand. He had needed to concentrate so intensely to project his consciousness beyond the Wall that he had not noticed anything Arya might have said or done.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Jon simply nodded. "Nothing serious. In any case... he’s already on his way."

He had intended to use the dragons only at the end of the war, but that did not stop him from using one now. Especially when Westeros already suspected that he possessed a dragon after what they had seen at Winterfell, and no one dismissed it as a mere rumor anymore.

Jon returned to his tent. The first thing he did was focus on a raven to the north while reaching Bran through their mental connection and speaking in a human voice.

"Send a message to Arctic. Tell them I’ve taken Eragon, but I’m safe. Everything is completely under control." Jon said only that before ending the connection. He needed to inform his family that Eragon had left Arctic, so that Rhaenys or Daenerys would mount their dragons and come south immediately.

Eragon would only be used in an emergency, as a true trump card. Besides, it would take a great deal of effort to keep the dragon fed in the south, and above all because most battles would never even happen if the dragon appeared. Everyone would simply begin surrendering.

That was precisely why Jon had not brought him from the very beginning.

Brynden Rivers, having heard the message through Bran, immediately began writing a letter that would be sent directly to Arctic by bird.

After that, he turned his attention to another task.

He wrote several more letters and sent out ravens, not to Arctic, but to three lords of the Crownlands who did not appear to have strong ties to the Lannisters.

The ravens quickly departed. Within a few days, they would reach their destinations.

That night, Jon slept with a sense of satisfaction.

Everything was progressing exactly as he had planned.

Soon, the Lannisters would reach him. The first great battle would finally take place, and in a way, Jon already knew that they would be utterly crushed in the days to come.

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