Shen Mo studied the ranger before him.
His gaze weighed on Logan, making the man’s skin crawl.
Still, since Will survived, surely he wouldn’t be killed either…
right?
Logan hadn’t understood a word of what Shen Mo and the Jingsai trooper said earlier, but he could tell that this man in the brightly colored armor held the highest status here.
Shen Mo had no interest in playing “equality.” He didn’t feel any need to show humble condescension or act like a benevolent leader to this man.
In this era, order was necessary.
Clearly, people were not equal.
In Logan’s eyes, Shen Mo was clearly from a completely different class.
Thus, he had to adopt a subservient posture to prevent this noble figure from harboring any untoward thoughts about him.
“I ask, you answer.” “Yes!
Yes, my lord!” He understood this time, so Logan bowed his body even lower.
“Does the Night’s Watch possess a detailed map of the North?” “Uh…” “Is there one, or is there not?” “There is, but…
it isn’t very detailed…” “How is your memory?” “Quite good.” “Very well.” Shen Mo motioned to the nearby Jingsai soldiers, and two immediately stepped forward.
“Blindfold him and bring him back.” “By your command.” One Jingsai soldier yanked Logan up from the ground while the other went to his warhorse, pulling cloth strips from a saddlebag.
Their movements were somewhat rough, causing Logan’s legs to go weak.
“My lord!
My lord!
Don’t kill me!
Please don’t kill me!” Shen Mo glanced at him.
“Gag him too.” “Yes, sir.” And so Logan was blindfolded and gagged.
His legs shook so violently he couldn’t even mount a horse.
Consequently, his hands and feet were bound, and he was hauled onto the back of a horse like cargo.
The rest of the journey was excruciatingly bumpy.
Unfamiliar words continuously buzzed in Logan’s ears, followed by the steady pounding of hooves.
Logan felt the horse beneath him moving, his stomach repeatedly taking heavy impacts from the riding motion.
He wanted to vomit, but couldn’t.
It felt as though a ball of fire was burning in his stomach, churning painfully.
*Is this some form of torture?* Logan wept internally.
…
North of the Wall, stone castles built by Wildlings were practically nonexistent.
Perhaps remnants of old castles still lay buried in these snows, but the Wildlings lacked the capability to repair such strongholds.
Blackhand, riding the same horse as his son Grion, looked up as they passed through a city gate.
The gate was brand new, and the soil around it still showed marks of having been repeatedly tamped and leveled.
Passing through the city gate, Blackhand saw rows of houses constructed from brick and stone.
These stone houses looked exceptionally warm.
Blackhand swore that if he could live in a house like that, he would do whatever these people commanded.
This was a city…
a grand city unlike anything Blackhand had ever seen.
The place was clamorous with life—the hubbub of voices, the clanging of blacksmiths at work, the chiming of bells hanging around the necks of livestock.
Blackhand and Grion were filled with intense curiosity.
They stared left and right, eager to imprint every detail into their minds.
“Take them to bathe first, then give them a change of clothes.” Shen Mo rubbed his nose.
“These two practically stink to high heaven.” “Yes, sir.” Blackhand watched Shen Mo separate from the group, then looked at the knight leading them off in another direction.
“Where are we going?” Blackhand knew these people didn’t speak his language; he spoke merely out of a need to reassure himself.
“Take a bath and change clothes.” “What?” “I said bathe and change clothes.
Don’t you understand?” The Jingsai soldier walking ahead turned back and spoke.
To the warriors from the Cathayan Empire, they spoke standard Imperial speech, but to the native inhabitants of Westeros, it sounded like fluent Westerosi.
“Yes, of course.” Blackhand nodded, and the Jingsai soldier turned back around without another word.
Led by the soldier, the three walked another few hundred meters.
The surrounding brick and stone structures gave way to vast rows of tents.
Meanwhile, along the border between the stone houses and the tent district, workers were actively expanding the stone building area deeper into the campsite.
Before long, tents might vanish from this city entirely.
*Just how many people live here?* At first, Blackhand tried to count how many people he saw, but he quickly gave up on that idea.
There were simply too many people in this city!
Blackhand had once participated in a joint hunt with other tribes.
Back then, several small tribes had assembled just over a hundred strong men, and standing among them had made Blackhand feel as if he had joined a boundless army.
“Dismount.” The Jingsai soldier ahead commanded.
Blackhand complied immediately, pulling Grion down from horseback along with him.
They stopped before a tent, and someone immediately came over to lead the horse away.
“Go inside.” The Jingsai soldier lifted the tent flap, and a wave of white steam instantly billowed out.
*What is this for?* Blackhand nervously led Grion inside.
Standing within the tent were two burly, bare-chested men wearing only pants, bearded, and smiling warmly at Blackhand and Grion.
For some reason, Blackhand felt that the smiles on these two muscular men carried an ominous undertone.
He suddenly recalled rumors mentioned by Crows who had fled from south of the Wall—that some of the great lords down south enjoyed taking men as lovers.
*No…
surely not?* Blackhand rubbed his own scruffy, bearded face.
Scruffy as he was, surely he wouldn’t…
right?
“Strip your clothes.” The Jingsai soldier walked in, though he had already removed his armor, leaving only his tunic.
“My lord…
please spare my son!” Blackhand pleaded, pulling his son tighter against his chest.
“?” Blackhand swallowed hard, while a massive question mark seemed to sprout over the Jingsai soldier’s head.
Then, realizing what the man was thinking, the soldier slapped his hand against his forehead.
“Taking off your clothes is so you can wash yourselves!
Take a look at your filthy selves—as if anyone would be interested in you!” “Oh, oh.” Even though the soldier said so, Blackhand remained somewhat uneasy.
It wasn’t until he saw covered wooden tubs nearby filled with actual hot water that he slowly took off his clothes.
“Ahhh~” Stepping into the hot water, Blackhand let out a sound of pure bliss, and his son Grion did the same.
Still, bathing was one thing—why were two bare-chested hulks standing around?
Before the Jingsai soldier could answer, Blackhand saw the two shirtless behemoths grinning happily as they approached, brandishing two oversized scrub brushes.
“AAAAHHH~!”