Ser Pell’s voice carried pride.
“My lord, I command a hundred men as easily as moving my own arm.” *Just a company commander, look at you gloating,* Grim thought with inward disdain.
*In the games of my past life, I easily commanded hundreds of thousands in battle.* *Heh, now it’s a live-action Age of Empires.
Things are different.* The perpetually chaotic Crackclaw Point was vast and sparsely populated.
In terms of the scale of war, Crackclaw Point truly belonged to the “country bumpkins”; battles here were merely equivalent to gang fights.
*They’re all a bunch of guys who’ve never seen a real spectacle.
That’s a problem.* Someone like Pell, who had fought for half his life and possessed command ability, was to some extent truly an invincible existence in this region.
*Worth being proud of.
Understandable.* Grim revealed a satisfied smile and continued walking with Ser Pell.
Inside the Whispers, after a period of strict management, things had become cleaner, and the various strange odors had dissipated.
These changes in detail made Grim’s steps even brisker.
*I’ll have the kitchens add an extra dish tonight.
Gotta give them a little incentive now and then.* A training yard in the Whispers.
Over twenty men were gathered here, each tall and strong, standing like iron towers.
These men were House Crabb’s most elite warriors, capable of fighting in full plate armor.
The mountain wildlings called them iron skins.
Noticing Grim and Pell approaching, the men stopped their movements and bowed in greeting.
Grim picked up a wooden training sword from the rack, gave it a swing, and said, “Who wants to spar with me?” The men fell silent, looking at each other.
Grim pointed at a random man.
“Yes, you.” The initially nervous man loosened up as he stepped forward, saying earnestly, “My lord, I am Forley…
you might get hurt.” Grim chuckled.
“If you hurt me, I’ll add a roast leg of mutton to your lunch.” “A fat one, dripping with grease.” The large man swallowed hard and nodded.
The news of the young lord sparring in the training yard spread through the castle at an incredible speed, and a crowd quickly gathered.
By the time Grim took off his surcoat, handed it to a servant, and took his stance again, a large crowd had already formed.
The speed at which they gathered was unbelievable, almost unreasonable.
“Oh oh oh!” “Ho ho ho!” Tempted by the roast mutton and spurred on by the crowd’s energy, the burly Forley’s morale was high.
Forley moved fast, but he wasn’t using his full strength.
The big man had his own little wisdom: if he really hurt the lord, the roast mutton probably wouldn’t taste so good.
Better to let the young, hot-blooded lord realize the difficulty and back down, saving face for him.
Facing Forley’s downward slash, Grim easily blocked it with a one-handed parry and pushed forward.
Caught off guard by the sudden force, Forley’s body instinctively resisted, but he was still forced three steps back.
“My warrior, take this seriously.
Let me see your true strength.” “Ohoho!!” “Forley, did the landlady at Old Ken’s tavern keep you overnight?
You’re all out of juice!” “What nonsense are you spouting?
Go to hell!” “Haha, all out of juice!” Forley’s dark face flushed red.
*Damn it, what are these bastards talking about?
The lord is actually really strong, what do you know?!* Forley steadied his stance.
His grip on the hilt loosened slightly before tightening again, entering the combat state he had honed through blood and fire.
*Thwack!
Thud!* Dust kicked up and then settled.
The burly Forley lay flat on his back, staring blankly at the sky as if life had lost all meaning.
*I really tried my best…* Silence.
Cheers erupted!
Grim maintained a reserved smile, waving lightly to the crowd to acknowledge his people’s enthusiasm.
The gloomy atmosphere that had hung over the Whispers since the passing of Grim’s mother seemed to be swept away in an instant.
It was no longer dreary.
Ser Pell was shocked by the strength Grim had displayed.
Pell’s swordsmanship was seasoned; he could naturally tell that Grim hadn’t used his full strength at all, defeating Forley with ease.
Although Forley’s swordplay was inferior to his own, the man was strong enough that even Pell would have to handle him carefully, merely managing to remain undefeated.
*The lord has grown up.
He’s getting stronger and stronger.
House Crabb has a bright future.* On a wooden platform beside the training yard, Surana and her second daughter, Kaleia, stood together, watching Grim’s retreating back.
“My daughter, Lord Grim is strong.
His children will be as robust as little calves.” Kaleia’s hair was the ink-black common to Crackclaw Point.
As the steward’s daughter, her slightly wavy long hair was well-maintained.
Kaleia was nearly five feet three inches tall.
Kaleia’s deep green eyes turned to Surana.
“Mother, but…
a bastard…
I want to marry a valiant knight, not be a mistress who bears bastards.” “Every maiden in Westeros dreams of marrying a valiant knight.
But, my poor daughter, your station is not high enough.
Wealthy knights will not look twice at you.
The only ones who would are destitute knights, or widowers.
Could you adapt to a life of poverty?
Are you truly willing to serve an old man?” Kaleia stubbornly kept her mouth shut.
“Mother would not harm you.
You cannot live on love alone; it changes.” Kaleia turned away in a huff.
“My opinion doesn’t matter at all, so just strip me naked and throw me into his lordship’s bedchamber!” “You…” In everyone’s impression, Surana was always unsmiling, a walking ice sculpture.
All of Surana’s tenderness was given to her most beloved daughter—Kaleia.
Surana looked at her sulking daughter, blinked, took a step forward, and rested her soft chin on top of Kaleia’s head.
“If only it were that simple, your mother’s life would be much easier.” “Yesterday, I tested the waters, and it seems I was rejected.
I feel Lord Grim hasn’t taken a fancy to you.” Kaleia broke free from Surana’s embrace and met her mother’s eyes, checking to see if she was joking.
*I’m the prettiest girl in our village!* Kaleia’s face was full of disbelief.
*Are you serious?* Surana studied her daughter’s beauty with satisfaction, reaching out to stroke her cheek.
Milk-white skin, soft and delicate.
“Your mother is only a steward.
I have a place in House Crabb’s lands, but my birth is not noble.
If you were plain-looking, I wouldn’t have to worry about this and that.” “As you’ve grown, you’ve blossomed like a flower.
You will be coveted by all sorts of men, for all sorts of reasons.
Sooner or later, your beauty will become your ruin.” “All my years of living tell me how cruel this world is.
Of all the men I know, the only one who will not mistreat you and can protect you is Lord Grim.” Kaleia’s eyes grew red.
She hugged Surana tightly, taking in her familiar scent.
“Mother…” Surana rubbed Kaleia’s hair and said, “Perhaps there are better men out there, but Mother doesn’t want you to leave, and I certainly don’t feel safe letting you go alone.
Are you willing to leave me?” *No, never…* Kaleia shook her head vigorously against Surana’s chest.
“I mentioned you to Lord Grim yesterday, but…
he showed no interest at all.
I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.” Kaleia let out a muffled hum against Surana’s ample bosom.
Grim spent the better part of the afternoon busy at the smithy, the carpenter’s workshop, and other places.
After supper, he had a long talk with Ser Pell about the mountain wildling problem.
With the day’s work finally done, Grim soaked in the hot water of a wooden tub, relaxing his mind.
Exhaling comfortably, Grim thought about the person he was preparing to receive tomorrow: the most famous spearwife in his lands, Empara.
She was said to be a formidable hunter with exceptional archery skills.
*Creak.* The sound of the wooden door opening was exceptionally jarring in the quiet night.
The footsteps were very light, not a familiar sound.
Grim’s heart skipped a beat, and one hand already reached for the shortsword leaning against the tub.
They drew closer.
Grim’s dark brown eyes flickered.
The linen material of the olive-green dress was very thin, and the slit neckline plunged low.
“Forgive my intrusion, Lord Grim.” “I am Kaleia, daughter of Surana the steward.”