Hunting is actually a tough job for hunters.
They need to carry hunting gear, set traps, endure icy conditions and snow, eat hard-to-swallow dry rations, and wait for their prey to appear.
Even with all that, there's a high chance of failure; even for excellent hunters, the success rate of each hunt doesn't exceed fifty percent.
For nobles, however, hunting is a delightful affair; they have their own hunting grounds.
For instance, Wolfswood is pretty much the hunting ground of House Stark, and the Kingswood is the royal hunting ground.
Before a hunt, people are sent to mark off an area, driving out wild deer, wolves, and the like, with hunting dogs chasing the prey in the process.
As for the nobles, they only need to leisurely sip tea, ride on horseback, nock an arrow, and aim.
In other words, for common hunters, hunting is an 'assassin's game,' while for nobles, it's a 'shooting game.'
There's a fundamental difference between the two.
Jon now felt like a noble on a hunt; the soldiers had surrounded the Mountain, and under his command, they scattered like frantic prey, constantly expending energy as they fled.
At this moment, the Mountain and his soldiers felt that their armor was no longer sturdy protection but a heavy burden.
They could launch at most one more charge or make one more move; after that, they would be at the mercy of others.
The Mountain leaned on his greatsword, panting heavily, watching Jon and his men approach him, trampling under the morning sun; he knew he would either be captured or die here today.
He used his unusually tall stature to look around and suddenly realized that Jon's army was not as numerous as he had imagined; for a moment, he couldn't understand what was going on and was too tired to think about it.
And after Jon had completely surrounded the Mountain, Martin finally arrived with the others; at this point, all the officers and tribal leaders around Jon had gathered.
Achieving such a victory in the first battle, overcoming such a formidable enemy, at least for now, they seemed to have become a unified force.
This army would be no less formidable than any other army in the North.
"Lord Jon," Martin squeezed in front of Jon, his tone filled with apology, respect, and gratitude.
However, Jon didn't even look at him, turning instead to the messenger beside him and saying, "Go tell that Mountain that I want to duel him; if he wins, I'll let him go."
"My Lord?"
"My Lord, you don't need to."
"My Lord, please don't take such a risk!"
As soon as Jon finished speaking, everyone around him collectively objected and tried to dissuade him.
The Mountain was already at his wit's end; others could simply wear him down to death.
Moreover, everyone had witnessed the Mountain's strength, especially the Northern soldiers who were at the Green Fork that day and still remembered it vividly.
Furthermore, not long ago, Jon had shot out one of his eyes, causing him to fall from his horse, yet the heavily armored Mountain was still able to stand up, which was truly terrifying.
Although in Old Yorek's heart, Jon's martial arts were top-notch, facing such a monstrous opponent, the risk was still too great.
Even though he had ignored Martin earlier, he also tried to dissuade him.
While he hadn't seen the true level of Jon's martial arts, the current situation simply didn't require taking such a risk.
Jon, of course, understood everyone's concerns; through this victory, his soldiers had largely merged into a formidable fighting force.
But Jon believed it wasn't enough.
After this battle, he would also incorporate the House Darry army into his own, and they would become the 'mid-level officers' that Jon desperately needed.
This would lead to dissatisfaction among the tribal officers Jon had temporarily selected earlier.
To ensure his 'reorganization' plan proceeded smoothly, he needed higher prestige to push it forward, and slaying the Mountain in battle was an excellent way to establish higher prestige.
What's more, the Mountain was already exhausted; it wouldn't be difficult for him to defeat him.
Additionally, Jon wanted to end the battle as soon as possible; Darry City was only a day or two's journey from the area controlled by the Western army, and delaying too long might lead to unforeseen complications.
"I've made up my mind; you are not to say anything more," Jon said again to the messenger. "Go! Tell him I want to duel him!"
The messenger was a warrior from the Howling Mountain tribe; he had long heard about Jon's conquest of Hidden Fire Peak.
Therefore, he also believed that it would be no difficult feat for Jon to defeat the Mountain, and so he eagerly went to the front of the Mountain's army.
"My Lord, that bastard wants to duel you!" Scarface said with a somewhat incredulous tone, sounding almost ecstatic with a sense of reprieve from a desperate situation.
Perhaps the Mountain might not win in a formal duel, as there were too many rules in such contests, but this was a fight to the death, and he had great confidence in his lord.
"I heard you!" the Mountain said with a frown, the pain from his eye socket making it difficult for him to concentrate.
At this point, the Mountain's face, centered around his eye socket, had already swollen, making his head, which was already larger than average, appear even more bloated, to the extent that he couldn't even wear his helmet.
And this pain, like kindling, further ignited his rage.
Now that Jon had proactively made this request, he naturally chose to accept.
Jon and the Mountain came to the front of the two armies; Jon's height was not particularly great, standing before the Mountain he barely reached his stomach area, just about reaching his chest.
In his youth, Jon, realizing his status as a bastard, had been depressed and didn't eat well, which led to him not growing taller.
However, he was still under sixteen, and both Rhaegar and Lyanna had tall genes, so Jon believed that height wasn't a big deal and he still had a chance to grow.
But as the two truly confronted each other, the soldiers of both armies finally saw the difference.
The Mountain's soldiers all had a feeling of 'this is a sure win,' while Sola, despite seeing Jon as omnipotent, still held her breath for him.
Her fists were tightly clenched at her chest; this time, she couldn't stand in front of him again.
"If I defeat you, you'll let me go?" the Mountain asked Jon, then his gaze suddenly turned fierce: "I might just kill you directly."
However, Jon did not answer him but smiled as he looked at his face, which was made even uglier by the swelling.
Suddenly Jon chuckled, and the Mountain asked somewhat strangely, "What are you laughing at?"
"I plan to capture you alive and then sell you to House Martell; you raped Elia and killed her son, so House Martell will surely pay a good price to torment you." Hearing this, the Mountain's face darkened.
He already understood that his best outcome today was to die in battle here.
But before that, he had to kill Jon!
This giant-like monster roared, brandishing his greatsword, and swung it at Jon.