Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

Chapter 99 Acting with Caution

Have you heard the story of Port Lannisport?

Oh, I've heard of it.

Let's taste it one more time!

In the year 130 of the Aegonian calendar, the Blood Dragon Dance took place, and the King of the Iron Islands joined the Black Party, launching the War of the Krakens and attacking the undefended Westerlands.

They seized three-quarters of the western warships and stormed over the city walls to plunder Lannisport, taking countless valuables and more than six hundred women.

This included the Duke of Casterly Rock's most beloved mistress and several of his illegitimate daughters.

Sixty-six years later, Blackfire rebelled, and the rebels once again inflicted a major defeat on the Western Frontier army at the gates of Lannisport.

More than a decade later, the spring plague struck this area most severely.

Nine years ago, during the Greyjoy Rebellion, the Iron Fleet's first spark was lit here.

And such a treasure trove where you can come and go as you please, and always return with a full load of good things.

Joffrey only needed to use a brain of Jaime's caliber to figure out where Renly's ship was headed.

Moreover, a proverb has been passed down from Westeros in the distant Age of Heroes.

A trade that gives you an advantage guarantees a win; a trade that gives you an edge when things are even; and a trade that gives you an advantage can turn the tide.

There are still a lot of people who support moving to a different location.

"How magnificent is Casterly Rock!" someone shouted from inside the tent.

"It's a castle carved out of a giant rock on the shore of the Sunset Sea, a rock peak seven hundred meters high, three times the height of the Wall!"

"Your Majesty, ignore Lanli. He'll just end up getting his head bruised and bloodied."

"Let's hurry south and meet up with Lord Ed."

The quality of the Allied troops can only be described as extremely high.

They seize credit with the speed of the wind, advance with the slowness of the forest, and plunder with the ferocity of fire.

When our allies are in trouble, we remain steadfast as a mountain.

If Casterly Rock is attacked, most of its inhabitants will secretly cheer and hurry to Highgarden to claim the spoils.

After all, in their minds, victory in the war was already a foregone conclusion.

But this was not Joffrey's original plan.

He had thought the two armies would be locked in a stalemate for at least a month in Golden Tree City and Yangji Hall, but one side broke through with a scheme, while the other was bypassed by the fleet.

Sending reinforcements to Casterly Rock now is probably too late.

Joffrey could only send a few waves of ravens towards Tywin, allowing the reinforcements to enter the Westerlands along the Golden Route.

He then led another five thousand King's Landing commandos to Highgarden as fast as he could.

At the same time, send out fast horses to have Ed's troops go west of the river to do more reconnaissance, and make sure they don't go too far into enemy territory alone.

We must proceed with extreme caution and be wary of enemy attacks.

"How could there possibly be enemies here?"

Hevaid Frey leaned against a crooked tree and spat hard at the ground.

The Frey soldiers swarmed the small village in the North River Bend like locusts.

They pried open doors, overturned pots, stabbed haystacks with sword tips, and chopped open storage chests with axes—they did everything they could.

Someone pulled a skinny thing out of the stable and examined it for a long time, prying open its teeth.

"This horse is at least twenty years old."

Someone next to him slapped him on the head: "Idiot, that's a donkey!"

The cries of chickens and ducks rose and fell, and several soldiers chased after them with strange shouts, their boots covered in mud.

Hevall watched all of this with a cold eye.

The North River Bend lies across the unnamed river.

The fertile North River Bay is dotted with endless golden wheat fields, vineyards laden with fruit, and estate owners' small castles overflowing with gold and silver.

It's harvest season, and you can easily extract dozens of golden dragons from any random spot.

But they came to rob this tiny, dilapidated village.

What kind of profit could be found in a place where even rats are starving?

House Frey sent three thousand men this time, and after joining up with the main army in King's Landing, they followed them all the way here.

The commander was his grandfather, Steve Ren.

This old, weak, good-for-nothing was easily manipulated by Ed with just a few words.

"Sir Stevieren, send a thousand men across the river, and make sure that all actions are carried out under the command of the Earl of Tettos."

So he sent a thousand.

Exactly one thousand, no more and no less.

"The rest of you, follow me south and besiege High Court."

Then the rest of the men obediently headed south to confront Renly's army head-on.

Blackwood kicked a brown ball away.

His gaze passed over the crooked wooden fence at the village entrance and landed on the undulating fields in the distance.

There were no enemies, no garrison troops, only farmers fleeing in panic and their belongings that they hadn't had time to take.

That's the place we should go.

Heva looked at a fat man not far away.

His father, Sir Lyman, was sitting on an overturned barrel, sweating profusely as he gnawed on a half-cooked chicken leg.

Blood dripped down his chin onto his coat embroidered with twin towers, leaving a dark stain.

Another idiot who doesn't know what to do.

As the eldest son of his grandfather Steve Ren and the second heir to Lihe City, if this fat pig had been willing to drink less, he wouldn't have been squeezed out of the conversation by his uncles when he asked for a position.

If it weren't for his great-grandfather, the Marquis of Walder, making the final decision to let his eldest son show his face,

How could their family possibly have the opportunity to come south and make a profit?

As it turned out, that old good-for-nothing Steve Ren didn't understand and handed this cushy job over to his son.

The son then handed over command to his son.

Thus, Hevad's brother Edwin became the nominal commander of the army.

Edwin stood on the other side of the village entrance, his thin back wrapped in an immaculate blue robe, talking to several knights, his head slightly tilted to the side.

Pretend.

His pale, slender brother couldn't even wield a sword, yet he was the eldest son and the heir.

They are able to ride roughshod over him.

What's even more hateful is that, because Edwin knew that Hevard had slept with his wife, he deliberately kicked him out of the command structure, leaving him with no troops.

Let him follow the group like a stray dog, eating dust.

They were still saying something.

"We must obey orders."

Whose orders should we obey?

Tytos, the Prime Minister's loyal henchman? Stark, the one who talks a lot about honor? Or that brat king who's still wet behind the ears?

They made the Freys the last to cross the river, so they did; they made the Freys eat other people's leftovers, so they obediently gnawed on the leftover bones.

Several thousand elite soldiers were treated like livestock, sent wherever they were told to go.

Once they've crossed the river, who can keep them in check?

Who else can keep an eye on them?

Don't they know what they should be doing now?

Count Tettos sent them north of the Red Lake to scout out whether Renly's army was there.

The fool Edwin actually followed orders and made his way to this godforsaken place.

If it weren't for Blackwald's sharp eyes, he probably wouldn't have even been able to find this village.

Edwin not only failed to reward him, but also stripped him of his right to loot the spoils and made him stand guard!

Apart from those few old men who couldn't walk, there wasn't even a White Walker in this place, so there was no need to keep watch.

Hevaid yawned, gently stroking the leather texture on the hilt of his sword with his thumb, and squinted at his brother and father.

On the battlefield, swords and spears have no eyes; it's perfectly normal for a few Freys to die.

When Steveren dies, and then when the old Marquis Ward dies, he will be the new Earl Frey.

Thinking of this, a bloody grin spread across Black's lips.

Completely disregarding the arrowhead embedded in the back of his neck and protruding from his throat.

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