At midnight, the moon veiled its radiance behind the clouds, as if it could not bear to witness the bloody battle about to unfold.
Catapults and arrows descended like a summer rainstorm and winter hail combined, their dense strikes firmly suppressing the defenders atop the city walls.
In the blink of an eye, the Westerlands army guarding the ramparts found they had almost nowhere to stand, with shattered stone projectiles splintering everywhere.
They could only huddle their bodies desperately into the corners of the walls; a moment's inattention would mean being struck by a stray arrow.
"Get up! Fight back! Get up!"
The defending officer roared. He had already seen the enemy below the walls carrying a battering ram as thick as a pillar, approaching the city gate.
But their voices were completely drowned out by the shouts of the attackers and the thunderous impact of the projectiles below.
Jon sat in the center of the army, using his Golden Finger to observe the battle situation from every direction of the assault.
At this moment, even with the miners called up for temporary training, there were no more than two thousand defenders in Casterly Rock, and only about a thousand were truly capable of fighting.
Compared to the besieging army, there was a twenty-fold difference. Jon, of course, would not throw all his Soldiers into a frontal assault; that would be too foolish.
There were mountains on both sides of Casterly Rock. Although steep, they were not unclimbable. While there were defenders up there, they could not withstand the terrifying number of climbing routes and attackers; they were simply not prepared to defend against an assault of over twenty thousand people.
Through the ravens, Jon had planned over sixty climbing paths for the army. These paths were crowded with Soldiers, looking from a distance like tightening nooses.
The front of the nooses consisted of heavy infantry in thick armor. Not only did they wear heavy plate, but they also held massive shields, with archers providing cover from behind.
At intervals, specialized Soldiers held torches. As these climbing paths went higher, they converged until they became fire dragons ascending to the mountain peaks.
"Daven really did move the troops away." Brynden, also responsible for command and the assault, clearly felt that the defensive strength was unexpectedly low.
They had originally thought Jon's order for a night assault was just because he couldn't sit still, never imagining that such a joke-like strategy would actually work.
Brynden estimated that there were likely fewer than two hundred people blocking them at the mountain fortresses. By that deduction, the entire defending force of Casterly Rock would not exceed two thousand.
Defending such a massive fortress with only two thousand men was almost impossible; it could be said that there were gaps everywhere now.
"What other methods did he use?" Brynden couldn't help but recall what Jon had said that day, yet he remained utterly perplexed.
He had been a Knight of the Bloody Gate in the Vale for over a decade, guarding the Bloody Gate—the gateway to the Vale—for the Vale and House Arryn.
In Brynden's eyes, Casterly Rock was a second Bloody Gate. While not as treacherous as the original, it was no less lethal.
So from the very beginning, he had suggested Jon start the attack from the south, so they wouldn't at least be blocked in front of Casterly Rock without any gains.
But now—Brynden looked at the firelight covering the mountains, knowing that under these circumstances, Daven could not hold Casterly Rock no matter what.
At that moment, a messenger with a Riverlands accent came before Brynden and said, "Ser Brynden, Lord Jon orders the capture of Casterly Rock before dawn. He wants you to speed up the assault!"
"Understood."
Brynden drew his sword and lowered his visor to join the front line personally.
After Robb put down his crown and chose to be king that day, Rickard found him and spoke about Tywin. Rickard believed he bore some responsibility for Tywin's escape, so he handed Karhold over to his son Harrion in advance and stayed behind to help Jon.
As for Brynden, Rickard told him to do as he saw fit.
Brynden was no fool. After careful analysis, he realized the significant importance of Jon's mutiny and the seizure of King's Landing.
If the Tyrells and Lannisters eventually won, then people like them would be trapped to death in the Riverlands.
If Robb wanted to return to the North, the Tyrell and Lannister armies would besiege them under the walls of Riverrun before they could even break through it.
At that point, everything would be over.
So Brynden decided to use the rest of his life to help Jon. If he died on the road to conquering the Westerlands, it would serve as a small atonement for the mistake he had made.
On the other side, Jon continued to monitor the entire battlefield. He noticed that the speed of Brynden's assault had suddenly increased, appearing almost reckless of the cost.
However, he didn't mind. The defenders of Casterly Rock were so few that no matter how stubborn they were, they couldn't cause much damage.
Gawen was also fighting fiercely. Considering Gawen's special status as Jeyne's father, Jon had Sandor take responsibility for Gawen's safety.
Both were men of the West, very familiar with mountain warfare, and their progress was not slow.
Only Rickard seemed a bit slow; after all, he was the eldest and had to fight while climbing the mountain, which was physically exhausting.
But his will was the most tenacious. The 'kingslayer' Jaime had killed two of his sons. Even though Jaime had eventually gone to the Wall, Rickard could not swallow this grievance.
He decided that he had to kill at least two Lannisters with his own hands for the matter to be settled.
As for Garlan and Loras, Jon did not let them fight on the front lines.
Given Mace's doting nature toward his children, if anything really happened to the two of them, the consequences would be hard to predict. If Mace also chose to lead troops into the war, the direction of the conflict would become difficult to control.
Being unable to join the fight made Loras pace in circles with anxiety; he wanted to be the first one to step onto the city walls.
"Jon, let me charge once. Look at the Soldiers on the wall; they've been beaten so badly they can't even lift their heads."
""
"No, my strategy has worked. I am still the Commander-in-Chief, and your mission is already complete," Jon said with a faint smile, looking at Loras who was so anxious he was about to jump.
"What kind of mission is leading Soldiers in circles? I want to kill the enemy!" Loras said, stiffening his neck. "I'm going to storm the city now, or else—" As he spoke, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Or else what!?" Loras thought Jon would brush him off as before, but he didn't expect the young man, two years his junior, to suddenly change his expression and say, "I am the Commander-in-Chief of the army, Ser Loras. Do not defy my orders, or you will be dealt with by military law!"
Jon stood up and looked down at Loras, causing him to subconsciously take two steps back.
Ghost, who had been lying nearby, also stood up and stared at him with those crimson eyes. Though he didn't bare his fangs, the intimidation was already evident.
Ultimately, though Loras was still muttering something under his breath, he turned and left.
"How is this possible!"
Daven, arriving at the tower, watched the dense arrows and stone projectiles pounding below the walls. His scalp felt numb, and his hand gripping the wall unconsciously clenched into a fist.
"My Lord, look at the mountains!" the attendant beside him suddenly spoke.
Daven turned in the direction the attendant pointed. Before he could see clearly what was happening, the wound on his back tore, making him grimace in pain.
Although that strike from Lefford hadn't inflicted a fatal wound, a large patch of flesh had been sliced open, and he could feel the blood soaking through his shirt.
While no one was looking, Daven quickly suppressed the pain and turned to look. He saw the distant mountains lit up by torches, dots of light converging toward the summits; many peaks had already been lit and occupied by the points of light.
Daven knew it wouldn't be long before those 'fires' spread from both sides to Casterly Rock. Judging by the number of light points, the besieging army was definitely no less than twenty thousand!
Daven knew perfectly well how many defenders were left in Casterly Rock. He knew that these people alone could not withstand an assault of twenty thousand.
Casterly Rock likely wouldn't hold until the next morning, and Daven himself likely wouldn't see the next sunrise. The only thing that could make him feel slightly better was that the order to move the troops had come from Casterly Rock.
He didn't know what method Jon had used, but he guessed that both he and Tywin had been deceived.
"Order the army to evacuate Casterly Rock immediately!" Daven finally made this decision. After all, if Tywin hadn't ordered the troops moved, Casterly Rock wouldn't have fallen.
"As you command, My Lord."
Just as he was about to move, a messenger claiming to be from Casterly Rock asked to see him.
After verifying his identity and confirming the man had indeed rushed from Casterly Rock, Daven personally allowed him to speak before him.
"Ser Daven, Lord Tywin sent me to ask you: why do you keep dispatching troops to other places? He clearly told you to stay put and hold Casterly Rock!"
"What did you say? Hold it?!"
For a moment, Daven felt his brain malfunction and freeze, as if someone had struck him on the back of the head with a club when he wasn't looking. He felt the world spinning.
"Make yourself clear! Lord Tywin clearly told me to send troops to support the southern battlefield!" Daven questioned with a sense of grievance, but the besieging army gave him no time.
"My Lord, the city gate has been breached!"
"What!"
Daven went to a high point and saw an army clad in silver-white heavy armor breaking through the gate, as unstoppable as a flood. Behind them was a continuous stream of the main army.
Upon seeing that banner that almost merged with the night, with only a white wolf's head leaping and howling, Daven suddenly felt his legs go weak. He didn't know if it was because he had exerted himself too much in Lady Lefford's room earlier, or if he was overwhelmed by the situation of having enemies in front and interrogation behind.
But he still made his choice.
"Follow me, drive the enemy out!" Daven drew his sword and roared, leading the less than one hundred Soldiers around him forward to meet the enemy.
But though his mouth said they would drive the enemy out, Daven knew in his heart that he would most likely die in this charge.
Only through death could he provide an account for the fall of Casterly Rock.
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