The next day, early morning.
Ser Pell and his Survey Corps had set out quietly long ago; their task today was not easy.
The dozen or so nearby wildling tribes had marched out in almost full force, leaving mostly the old and weak behind in their settlements.
The members of the Survey Corps were the best hunters in the Crabb lands.
Breaching these tribes, guarded only by the frail and elderly, would naturally be a simple matter.
The problem was that these dozen tribes could not possibly be gathered in one place.
If they were, they wouldn’t be a dozen tribes, but one.
The tribes were scattered, each holding its own territory of varying size.
Three of these tribes were the largest, each boasting a population of several hundred.
Grim’s orders to the Survey Corps targeted these three large tribes.
Today, they had to take down at least two.
Therefore, the key to today’s success lay in the Survey Corps’ speed of march.
The experienced Ser Pell naturally understood this.
The rugged terrain made riding impossible.
To avoid slowing their march, he had forgone the gleaming silver plate armor he usually wore to every battle, instead donning Grim’s newly invented, simplified leather half-plate directly over his chainmail.
Ser Pell felt Lord Grim’s words made perfect sense: *As long as you ensure you are always facing the enemy, why bother protecting your back?* Ser Pell felt he had always fought exactly like that on the battlefield.
Though Grim hadn’t said it outright, Ser Pell felt his lord was indirectly praising his martial valor.
*The lord understands me!* Ser Pell had ambitions.
This was the lord’s first battle since inheriting House Crabb.
He needed not only to fight well, but to fight brilliantly, cementing his position as the Whispers’ most loyal and valiant knight.
With proper command and good timing, all three of the large tribes—now left with only the old and weak—could be dealt with today.
Once the three large tribes were crushed, the remaining smaller ones would be terrified out of their wits.
They would be easy to handle, likely not even daring to resist.
The sky was just beginning to lighten.
Wearing black leather armor embroidered with marsh marigolds, Grim stood on high ground, silently watching the soldiers assemble.
The entire yard was a clamor of noise.
Grim soon noticed that Empara’s newly formed Thorn Company was actually the fastest to muster.
Having completed their assembly, Empara was now inspecting their equipment.
Grim knew that nothing could be achieved overnight.
He had simply compiled a few training guidelines and pre-battle precautions that felt appropriate for their current situation and passed them on to Empara.
Empara executed every single one of them meticulously.
This too was a talent—or rather, the exact talent Grim most desired in his commanders right now.
Grim quite liked Empara’s temperament; he could rely on her more heavily in the future.
Lyra, with her silver hair tied up in a high topknot, stood out sharply in the crowd.
After accompanying Empara to inspect the Thorn Company’s gear, Lyra glanced at Grim in the distance, exchanged a few words with Empara, and jogged over toward him.
Grim spotted Lyra trotting his way.
She even skipped a few times as she ran.
Her lively nature made Grim smile.
Grim waved his guards away.
Stopping a few paces away, Lyra bowed in greeting.
“Forgive the intrusion.
Good morrow, my lord.” It was a courtesy Lyra had only just learned from Empara.
Greeting the lord face-to-face for the first time, Lyra was thrilled, feeling as though she had finally made something of herself.
Her voice was crisp and pleasant to the ear.
“Your name is Lyra, isn’t it?
Second-in-command to Commander Empara of the Thorn Company.” “Oh my, you know my name before I even introduced myself?
My lord, you really do know everything, just like the rumors say!
…And another thing, those leather gloves you prepared for us are wonderful.
I tried them out, and my fingers feel so much better after volley fire.
The sisters are all very confident about completing the forty-arrow volley.
We promise to get it done!” There was plenty of soft leather in the storehouses.
Grim knew that continuous longbow fire was incredibly taxing on the fingers, so right after the “new leather armor” was produced, he had immediately arranged for soft leather gloves for the archers.
Lyra chattered on endlessly, practically bouncing on her heels when she got excited.
It was still early.
Grim had plenty of patience for the soldiers about to march to war with him.
He kept a gentle smile on his face and didn’t interrupt, waiting for Lyra to finish.
“Well, time was short.
The gloves might be a bit too large or too small for some of you.
In the future, you will all have gloves tailored to fit.” “It’s no matter, no matter at all!
Look!” Saying this, Lyra held out her right hand, showing off a glove that fit her palm perfectly.
“I altered mine last night.
It was very simple.
All the sisters whose gloves didn’t fit followed my lead and fixed theirs too!” “Well done.
Go on back now, and assist Empara well.
Remember, our strength lies in unity.” “Yes, my lord!
Our strength lies in unity!” The agreed-upon battleground with the mountain wildlings was a relatively flat stretch of land about two miles east of the Whispers.
By the time the sun was fully up, Grim had led his forces to the site.
Grim spotted the mountain clansmen gathering a few hundred yards away, a dense, dark mass of bodies.
Ser Mason dismounted and bellowed, “Armor up!!” Mason’s gruff voice boomed as he waded through the shifting crowd, occasionally kicking out a boot.
“Shields, form up!
Form up!!” “You lazy bastards, get into formation!
Move, move!” “What are you panicking for?!
Over there, get your arses over there!” “If you don’t want your wives rolling in another man’s bed tonight, check your gear one more time!” “Damn it, shoulder to shoulder!
Keep your shoulders tight!!” Grim sat atop his horse, the fully assembled Thorn Company flanking him.
Grim once again marveled at Crackclaw Point’s method of warfare, which felt more like a scheduled street brawl.
It was vastly different from the battles of the world of Ice and Fire he remembered from his past life.
*If my army had strict discipline and enough training, I’d have ordered them to form up and steamroll right over that chaotic mess.* Just as Grim’s side finished forming their ranks, a cacophony of bizarre roars erupted from the wildlings opposite them.
The voices grew more unified, swelling louder and louder.
The wildlings, who to Grim’s eyes lacked any semblance of formation, actually began to press forward in a massive, surging swarm toward his phalanx.
“Ranging arrows!” “Yes, my lord!
Ranging arrows!” The wildlings closed in on the highly visible ranging arrows.
“Fire!!!!”