Seeing Kal distressed, Tyrion also put away the self-mocking amusement he had felt after understanding the situation.
He looked at Kal, who was bowed in deep thought, his expression solemn.
"Kal, what should we do next? We must make a decision as quickly as possible—"
"Right now we have five thousand soldiers in our hands. This is a force of living strength."
"But if you wish to return to King's Landing, the days ahead for us can already be foreseen as difficult."
"War is already unavoidable."
"But if you choose the Westerlands, then it means that you are giving up the Iron Throne, and after that, whether it is Stannis Baratheon or Renly Baratheon who rises to the top, they will certainly demand that you swear fealty to them."
"And from that moment on, the El family will be completely cut off from the Iron Throne."
Tyrion analyzed the advantages and disadvantages in an instant. Good and bad, black and white — he used his wisdom to lay everything out for Kal.
He clearly understood that this would be a great turning point in Kal's life. Whatever choice he made would determine the price he must pay.
Hearing the words of the dwarf wise man Tyrion Lannister, the small tent fell silent again.
Everyone's gaze focused on Kal, waiting for him to make a decision for his own fate.
But as Tyrion's words fell, Kal lowered his hand.
A firmness was revealed in his eyes, and his expression was resolute.
"No, Tyrion. I will choose none of what you said—"
"Since fate mocks us like this, then we should give it a strong slap in return."
Tyrion did not understand what Kal meant and looked confused.
Jon and Samwell were the same.
"I am preparing to make two plans, and—I want both!"
Before Tyrion could voice the doubt in his heart, Kal stood up and drew from his waist the gilded sword that had originally belonged to the Kingslayer.
Looking at the sharp gleam of the sword, Kal decided to strike back at this damned fate and to see whether the truth behind all this was truly fate, or whether someone was stirring the storm.
"So I order: Tyrion Lannister is to serve as the commander of this Northern army. Jon White Wolf will assist, and Samwell Tarly will also participate."
"I want you now to return to Casterly Rock at the fastest possible speed and completely seize this castle that already belongs to us."
"This will be the key to whether we can truly give this damned fate a resounding slap."
"Tyrion, do not disappoint the trust I place in you. Before I return, take good care of Casterly Rock."
With the sword drawn, Kal's eyes were filled with boundless killing intent.
He turned around and, for the first time in his current identity, issued orders to Tyrion, Jon, and the others.
However, as his words left his mouth, everyone present froze on the spot.
"Kal — what about you? What are you going to do?"
Tyrion asked anxiously.
"I am preparing to return to King's Landing, to send off my father, and to take back what he left for me."
"And more importantly, I want to see what kind of conspiracy lies behind this, or whether it is simply the gods mocking me!"
For this plan, after Kal made his final decision and expressed that he wanted all of it, everyone once again held a two-hour meeting.
In the meeting, Jon and the others, with Tyrion at the lead, fiercely refuted Kal's ridiculous decision and said that if he really wanted to go back and contend for the throne, he should take them and the army with him.
But Kal only said that, as far as the throne was concerned, the Westerlands were what truly mattered to him.
If he obtained the Westerlands, he still had the possibility of obtaining the throne.
If he lost the Westerlands, then even if he obtained the throne, it would mean nothing, and the most serious outcome might be the Seven Kingdoms breaking apart once more, returning to the fragmented state before the Conqueror.
These words persuaded Tyrion, and this also made Tyrion understand just how heavy the responsibility on his shoulders was in the face of Kal's absolute trust.
War was already unavoidable.
Who would be the final victor could really only be determined on the battlefield.
"Then take some troops. If you go alone, what use is that?"
"Taking troops is what's truly useless, Tyrion. This time, aside from taking back the title that already belongs to me, the rest is to see who the final mastermind truly is."
"If I can find the person, at the very least I must avenge Robert."
"After finishing all of this, I will return to the Westerlands. At that time, I will make the Seven Kingdoms truly submit to me. Don't forget the answer I gave you when you asked me the words of House El."
Thought!
Sword!
Truth!
Hearing this, Tyrion gained an even deeper understanding of the other layer of hope that Kal placed upon his house's words.
No one could stop the decision Kal had made this time.
In the end, out of trust in his martial strength, the few of them reluctantly agreed to his reckless action.
After all, in King's Landing, Eddard Stark was still Hand of the King, Kal's residual prestige remained, and more importantly, neither of the King's two brothers had any troops here.
So after the meeting ended, orders were issued one after another, and the army set out once more.
This time, it was truly a forced march.
As for Kal himself, he brought nothing, and did not even ride Fawkes, leaving him in Sam's care.
He himself followed the direction he had come from, and after walking out until the army could no longer see him, his gaze looked toward an owl resting on a branch to the side.
In the next moment, his whole person disappeared under a flash of light, while an owl shot up into the sky in broad daylight, flying toward the horizon.
It was just that this owl flew in a strange way, swaying and tilting as if it might fall at any moment, flying with extreme difficulty, and its posture was also very strange.
...
King's Landing, inside the throne hall, the Silent Sisters wore grey robes and used hoods to cover their faces, circling around a stone sarcophagus in the center.
In their hands they held censers of burning incense, performing rituals for the King's remains.
Now they had already finished the final work: Robert's removed intestines and organs, along with the drained blood, were all placed at the direction of his head, stored inside bottles of colored glass and arranged on a long wooden table.
As for the King's hollowed-out torso, it had already been packed full with herbs and salt, a preparation used to cover the smell of rot and to preserve the remains.
The climate of King's Landing was very hot, and recently there had even been occasional misty rain. If the King's torso, which in life had already shown signs of rot and infection, were left unattended, the smell inside the throne hall would certainly become unbearable.
Hand of the King Eddard Stark silently watched them. He had watched this ritual from beginning to end, giving his friend a dignified farewell.
Perhaps this could ease the sorrow in his heart, just like when Robert chose to drink a cup of specially prepared milk of the poppy and peacefully left this world in his sleep.
"Robert, don't do this, don't leave me— the realm needs you."
Eddard looked at Robert before him, as if peacefully asleep, recalling how after helping the King set down his will, he had said this to him.
But the King only gripped his hand tightly, using all of his remaining strength.
"Ned, you— truly cannot lie," he looked to be in great pain, speaking in broken sentences, "this realm— this realm knows very well— what kind of foolish king I am, a foolish king like Aerys. May the gods forgive me."
He told him that he was not the same as Aerys, that he was much better than him.
But the King could only force out a faint smile, with blood at the corner of his mouth. "At least people will say— the last thing I did in this life was not wrong."
"Giving the realm to Kal and to you. You will not disappoint us. I once imagined simply passing the throne to Joffrey, but you know him, he— he————— heh."
"Tell me, Kal will be— a responsible king, yes?"
"From the things he has done, it can be seen clearly. People love him. I can still remember the cheers of the smallfolk for him. He always thinks about letting those people live a little better."
"He will certainly be a qualified king, stronger than me."
In the end, the King asked his Hand of the King to pass him the paper, but he could only scrawl a chaotic signature, and the most noticeable thing between the lines was that patch of blood.
"A sealing needs witnesses."
The King finally chose to let his younger brother Renly Baratheon, the newly appointed Grand Maester Payton, and the Captain of the Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy serve as witnesses.
He picked up his royal seal and pressed it onto the hot yellow wax dripped on the paper by the Hand.
"Now give me something for the pain, and let me die."
After drinking the milk of the poppy, thick white droplets clung to his black beard. "Will I dream?" the King asked his old friend.
Eddard said, "Your Grace, you will."
"That is good. Ned, I will greet Lyanna for you," Robert smiled. "As for you, assist Kal well. I know what Stannis wants."
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