At this moment, Darry City could only be described as weak.
When they set out, their numbers were over six hundred, but after suffering losses from the siege and the Dreadfort army's withdrawal, Darry City's 'battle-ready troops' were now less than three hundred.
Three hundred men would have been fine, but their arrows and weapons were also insufficient. What was worse, the city walls had not been fully repaired.
And even worse, the Mountain knew about that breach and immediately launched a fierce assault on its weakest point.
The Mountain stood there, casually deflecting an arrow shot at him. In front of the heavy armored troops' sturdy plate armor, the sparse arrows from the city wall were as powerless as mosquito bites.
Furthermore, the Mountain's direct assault also brought another layer of pressure—
He did not follow the usual procedure of demanding surrender but attacked directly, which meant he was confident in conquering Darry City. And after Darry City was conquered, there would be a brutal massacre.
Martin and Mond, the two brothers, roared as they tried to block the Mountain's advance.
But that fragile defense line, patched up with rammed earth, was breached almost in the blink of an eye. Soldiers, like iron men, stormed into Darry City in an extremely short time.
Martin looked at the vast army surging from all directions and felt his sword tremble in his hand.
"Martin! What do we do now?!" Mond had been hit by three arrows in his chest, but thankfully, his armor was quite thick.
He could still fight, but the situation was not good.
"Find a way, find a way to get Lyman out! He cannot die here!" Martin said with a taut face.
"There's no way, our entire Darry City is surrounded!" Mond's voice was tearful.
After all, he was only seventeen or eighteen years old, and facing such a situation, he was truly afraid. The two brothers, still standing on the city wall, watched helplessly as the Mountain broke in.
The Mountain's nearly 2.5-meter tall body was like a rampaging beast. The terrifyingly large greatsword in his hand reaped lives like the Grim Reaper's scythe.
Even knights dared not confront him head-on.
Martin was completely enveloped by despair and regret at this moment.
He hated himself for not listening to Jon, and he hated himself for causing his family's lineage to end. House Darry, which had been passed down for over a thousand years, was actually being destroyed in his hands.
Perhaps the only thing that could make him feel better now was to die in battle. He wiped the blood from his longsword, preparing to face the enemy head-on.
Just then, a soldier from House Darry suddenly pointed into the distance and warned, "My Lord, the black banner with the white wolf! It's the white wolf banner! Lord Jon, Lord Jon has come to save us!"
Martin, who had already resolved to die, turned his head sharply and saw the familiar banner.
The black of the banner almost blended with the darkness of the night, but the white wolf's head shone like lightning.
'Lord Jon?!'
"It really is Jon, Martin! It really is Jon!"
Mond, beside him, was even more overjoyed, so much so that tears streamed down his face.
Awooo—
Immediately after, a long wolf howl was heard, and the Mountain, who had been caught up in the killing, also came back to his senses.
"My Lord, something is wrong, the Northern reinforcements have arrived!"
"Reinforcements?!"
The Mountain was a bit confused. Before he came, he had clearly sent out scouts, who reported that there were no armies within a dozen miles of the area.
Moreover, he had learned that the Dreadfort archer unit had just left a few days ago.
Besides, even if one were to concede a point, the soldiers he had spread out for vigilance should not have failed to give him a single warning.
'I'll kill this scout when I get back!' the Mountain thought to himself.
"The banner," he said in a terse tone.
"The black banner with the white wolf, it's Jon Snow, the bastard's banner!" the pockmarked attendant replied.
"Jon Snow!"
The Mountain narrowed his eyes, as if squeezing the name through his teeth.
He was once again overcome with a rush of blood. He felt his temples throbbing, and a headache came over him. He knew only blood could relieve it.
The Westerlands army naturally had their own intelligence methods. He already knew that Jon had only about a thousand men, and the soldiers' quality was very ordinary.
He had been troubled by not finding an opportunity to confront Jon directly, but he never expected him to deliver himself.
The Mountain immediately ordered the soldiers who had already entered Darry City to set up defensive lines on the spot to contain the city's defenders, while he himself would take the remaining men to engage Jon.
Soon, the Mountain mounted his warhorse and, leading a mixed force of about four hundred heavy infantry and cavalry, left Darry City and charged towards that banner.
But the Mountain quickly realized that something seemed amiss. He had also received a noble education and knew how to roughly estimate the size of an army by sight.
It was night, but he could still make a rough guess based on the sounds and the number of torches.
However, the strange howling sounds around him and the dense torches all told him that the army ambushing him numbered no less than five thousand!
Although he had confidence in his heavy armored troops.
But a force disparity of more than ten times still made this butcher, who reveled in slaughter, feel a trace of apprehension.
'Did the news leak?'
After all, the Mountain himself had used intelligence advantages to ambush Eddard's men, so he naturally thought in this direction.
Almost without any hesitation, the Mountain chose to abandon the soldiers who were still besieging the city and prepared to break out directly via the main road to the southwest.
The terrain there was flat, which was conducive to a charge by heavy armored troops.
And from the direction, Jon's great banner seemed to be erected in the center of the main road to the southwest.
He remembered having sent people to scout there not long ago, and Jon could not possibly have established any effective defensive works there in a short time.
And when the Mountain ordered the retreat, the defenders of Darry City were the first to feel a sense of relief.
Especially Martin, the feelings of regret and despair quickly faded. He had secretly made up his mind that as long as he survived this time, he would always listen to Jon in the future.
"Mond! Mond, quickly go and count how many men we still have who can fight, and be ready to support Lord Jon at any time!"
"Understood!" Mond nodded sharply and turned to leave.
Subsequently, Martin instructed an attendant to check on Lyman, while he himself pulled out his telescope and looked into the distance.
When he noticed that Jon had placed his army formation in the center of the main road, his chest tightened again.
He thought that Jon probably didn't know that the Mountain was leading the most elite heavy armored troops of the Westerlands army, and that he would surely suffer a great loss!
'No! I absolutely cannot just watch here!'
Martin looked at the 'armies' covering the mountains and plains around him, knowing that he would not die today no matter what.
But if Jon suffered any mishap because he was unaware of the Mountain's army's strength, he would never forgive himself.
Soon, Mond reported the number of soldiers who could still fight, "There are still two or three hundred who can move, but the Mountain also left some men to tie us down, we can't break out!"
"Even if we can't break out, we must charge!"
Martin's eyes widened, his two brown eyes seeming to spit fire.
On the other side, the Mountain's forces soon arrived before Jon's army formation.
Jon was already standing at the very front of his army, waiting for him.
And the officers around Jon and the warriors of the clan tribes, upon seeing the Mountain, whose physique was like a dam, were all amazed.
His towering body almost obscured the moonlight behind him, and his huge shadow was elongated by the moonlight, enveloping the front of both armies.
"Who is Jon Snow!" the Mountain asked in a grim voice, lifting his visor.