Lucien and Hakon accepted the command and departed.
Only Arthur and Bronn remained in the tent.
"You don't seem worried at all?" Arthur looked at Bronn, his gaze calm.
Bronn spread his hands: "Worried about what? Worried about not winning? My skill at running away is no worse than my skill at killing!"
Bronn stretched his wrist, emitting a slight cracking sound, "However, let's be clear, if things go south, I won't die with you."
"Of course." Arthur was noncommittal. "But if you run, you'd better hope I die."
"Otherwise, you will be hunted by the Seven Kingdoms! Deserter will be your label!" Arthur chuckled.
Bronn:...
"What a pity!" Bronn suddenly exclaimed as if he had thought of something. "If you and I were this age during the Usurper's War."
Arthur put away his short sword and slowly said, "You will still have a chance."
Bronn looked at him strangely: "Are you talking about the Ironborn? With all due respect, they won't last long!"
Arthur said nothing, giving him a smile of unknown meaning.
——
"Damn it! They burned everything!" The tribe leader of Milk Snake Tribe roared in anger, punching a charred stone wall.
The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe was somewhat silent.
The pursuit was smoother than expected. The Plainsmen had originally destroyed all traces.
But there were still clues left, which could not hide from the Free Folk living in High Mountain.
They are good at tracking prey.
But the Plainsmen found themselves being followed and burned everything.
It was destroyed more thoroughly than by the wildlings.
They had originally planned to kill all the Plainsmen they could find!
But along the way, they didn't even see a single person.
Everywhere were the ruins left by the Plainsmen.
Charred wooden stakes were scattered on the ground, and the air was filled with a pungent smell of charcoal and an indescribable stench of decay.
"Damn those damned Plainsmen sheep!" The tribe leader of Milk Snake Tribe continued to curse, kicking a charred piece of wood. "They didn't even leave us anything to eat!"
The village wells were filled with dead livestock, and the Plainsmen had even poured animal and human feces into them.
Now it emitted a nauseating smell.
The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe walked to the well, taking a spear from a wildling's hand.
He used the spear tip to clear away the debris on top, and a strong foul odor assaulted him.
"Tribe leader, there are still villages ahead!" The scout reported again. "The traces continue forward."
The team continued to advance.
They kept walking until noon, when the sun was directly overhead, scorching the earth.
The wildlings, dressed in animal hides, were soon drenched in sweat.
The feeling of thirst burned in their throats like fire.
They passed the second village, which was also a ruin, also without food, and the wells were also destroyed.
The third village, the fourth...
Every place where they hoped to find food and water.
Only left behind scorched earth and contaminated water sources.
The team's speed visibly slowed down.
The initial towering anger, and the excitement and bloodlust of finally finding the Plainsmen.
Gradually replaced by agitation, hunger, and thirst.
"Tribe leader, how long do we have to chase?" A young wildling from Howl Mountain Tribe couldn't help but ask, his lips cracked, his voice hoarse. "My waterskin is empty."
"Shut up!" Another wildling from Howl Mountain Tribe rebuked. "The Plainsmen are just ahead, kill them, and you'll have everything!"
But his words seemed somewhat pale and powerless.
Even he himself felt his throat dry and his stomach empty.
The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe remained silent, only scanning his surroundings with a strange gaze.
This path was too smooth.
Are the Plainsmen trying to wear him down?
But this precisely indicated that the Plainsmen did not have many warriors.
Otherwise, they wouldn't need to do such a thing.
The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe suddenly reined in his mount and raised his hand.
The team stopped.
He looked around; it was a relatively open river valley.
On both sides were low hills with sparse vegetation.
"Scout again!" The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe's voice carried a hint of imperceptible fatigue and vigilance. "Look carefully, report anything unusual!"
He had just lost his only son.
But he could not lose his tribesmen again.
Several wildlings accepted the command and departed.
The remaining wildlings slumped to the ground, panting heavily.
Some futilely licked their cracked lips, while others looked at the tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe with bloodshot eyes, awaiting his decision.
Only heavy breathing and the distant wind could be heard in the air.
"Howl Mountain Tribe!" The tribe leader of Milk Snake Tribe was getting impatient. "We can't wait here! Wasting time here! The distance between us and the Plainsmen will only grow!" He didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.
The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe did not look at him, his gaze cast towards the distance, where there seemed to be a patch of slightly darker grass.
He was very uneasy, extremely uneasy.
"If you continue to wait! We will have to go first!" The tribe leader of Milk Snake Tribe looked at the tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe with extreme anger and roared.
"Pfft!"
A dull thud of flesh.
The sound of blood and bone shattering was exceptionally harsh in the silent river valley.
The tribe leader of Milk Snake Tribe stared blankly at the tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe.
It happened in an instant; his consciousness hadn't even registered it.
A throwing axe was embedded in the head of the tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe.
The tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe didn't even have time to let out a scream.
He softly collapsed, his body convulsing a few times before falling silent.
The blade of the throwing axe was deeply embedded in his skull, and the axe handle was still trembling slightly.
Blood and brain matter spurted from the crevices of the wound.
The entire scene was dead silent.
No one had reacted to what had happened.
A Plainsman leaped from a dense cluster of trees fifty meters away, perhaps even less than fifty meters.
He threw a throwing axe, accurately hitting the head of the tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe.
After a brief silence, there was a deafening roar!
"Plainsmen!"
"Damn it!"
"Kill him!"
Thirst and exhaustion were instantly washed away, the string of reason completely snapped!
The tribe leader of Milk Snake Tribe, who had witnessed the death of the tribe leader of Howl Mountain Tribe, his eyes turned blood red, let out a heaven-shaking roar, like an enraged beast.
He roared loudly: "Kill him! Kill him!"
Blatant provocation.
The wildlings were completely enraged and crazy.
"Kill him!!"
"Avenge the tribe leader!!"
The Plainsman spat, "Pah!"
Then he leaped onto a High Mountain Clan warhorse hidden in the trees.
His movements were fluid and incredibly swift.
He galloped away.
"Damn it! Arthur! Making me do such a dangerous job! And not even giving me a good horse!"
Bronn was cursing as he galloped.
He was also cursing wildly in his heart.
This horse was short and ran slowly.
Behind him were countless wildlings in hot pursuit.
And various thrown weapons.
They whistled past his head and ears like raindrops.
Every whoosh made his heart leap into his throat.
Bronn suddenly pulled a throwing axe from his waist and fiercely threw it at the nearest wildling behind him!
The axe whistled and hit its target, a scream came, and the wildling fell to the ground.
But the pursuing crowd did not diminish in the slightest.
Bronn galloped furiously!
"Damn it!!" "Damn it!!" "Damn it!!"
He roared continuously!
As if roaring towards Suleiman Stinky Fort in the distance, a heaven-shaking roar:
"Damn you, Suleiman Stinky Fort! More money! I want more money!"