The morning sun after the battle was exceptionally bright, an orange-red sun rising from the east. Flowers on the ground swayed in the wind, and most of the bloody scent in the air had dissipated.
Swordsmanship: Red
Archery: Purple
Horsemanship: Blue
Gods Perspective: Purple
Warging: Green
Unburnt: White
Great Strength: White
Remaining upgrades: 1
As the soldiers cleaned the battlefield and collected the bodies, Jon felt a change in his Golden Finger.
After killing the Mountain, he once again gained a white entry—Great Strength.
Upon acquiring this entry, Jon felt his strength increase significantly. This indirectly boosted his personal combat prowess once more.
However, Jon's future role was that of a commander, so the importance of personal combat ability would greatly diminish.
What he was most concerned about now were the heavy armors they had captured! This would be his capital for dominating battlefields in the future.
Pulling his attention away, he saw Martin walking towards him, accompanied by Old Yorek.
The former was cautious, while the latter's eyes gleamed.
"My Lord, you must see those treasures! The heavy armored troops brought by the Mountain—each set of heavy armor is worth more than my old bones!"
"Let's go! Let's see!"
Jon merely glanced at Martin before heading with Old Yorek to the roadside where the spoils were being collected.
Gray armors, some stained with blood, some not, were neatly stacked by the roadside, roughly estimated at over three hundred sets. And from time to time, soldiers would push carts loaded with armor to pile them together.
Harken and some tribal warriors were also there, their eyes red as they stared at the valuable heavy armors.
Harken hugged a set of armor, unwilling to let go. If everyone wore these heavy armors, each person would be worth ten.
"My Lord, look at this breastplate, the craftsmanship!" Old Yorek tapped a breastplate with his sword, producing a crisp metallic sound. "This is at least three times thicker than ordinary armor!"
Old Yorek was experienced; he knew that if it were ordinary armor, the sound would be a dull thud, not this crisp ringing.
The Westerlands were rich in mines, so naturally, they were also the foremost in Westeros when it came to smelting.
"Very good, collect all these heavy armors. I will use them uniformly when the time comes."
"Yes, My Lord!" Old Yorek replied readily.
Jon walked back, contemplating how to form a heavy armored unit, while Martin finally found an opening to speak to Jon, stepping forward and saying, "Jon, Lord Jon."
His face showed awe and shame. He wanted to approach Jon to show goodwill but dared not get too close.
Jon said nothing, merely stating, "Follow me."
Martin didn't know what Jon wanted, but he still followed him. The two came before the collected bodies, most of which were old soldiers from the Mountain Clans, who had died luring the Mountain into the trap.
Additionally, there were many civilian bodies, all found at the foot of Darry City's walls.
"What did I say when you wanted to retake Darry City?"
Martin naturally remembered Jon's words clearly, but his mouth opened and closed, unable to utter a single word.
Jon picked up a riding crop and whipped him once for each word he spoke. "They! All! Died! Because of you!"
Although the whip striking his chest armor caused no pain, Martin was still overwhelmed with shame.
Especially with so many soldiers watching him.
"I want you to collect their bodies and bury them properly."
"My Lord, I accept." Martin lowered his head, answering in a hoarse voice.
Meanwhile, in Darry City, Lyman learned that Jon had saved all of them and immediately ordered the great hall of Darry City to be decorated.
As evening approached, Jon held a cremation in Darry City for the fallen soldiers and murdered civilians, collecting their ashes afterward.
As for the Westerlands soldiers, except for the Mountain's body, which needed to be taken back as a military trophy, the others were directly thrown into a pit, burned together, and buried once they turned to bone fragments.
In Darry City, Jon sat to Lyman's left, listening to Old Yorek report the battle results.
"My Lord, we captured a total of three hundred twenty-odd people this time, beheaded four hundred seventy, and we lost one hundred seventy, with serious injuries..."
This time, Jon led them to annihilate the Westerlands' elite heavy armored unit, and with their own casualties so low, it was a victory worth celebrating. However, Jon's criticism of Martin during the day made them afraid to laugh too loudly.
"My Lord, we captured four hundred sixty-eight complete sets of heavy armor this time, and dozens more that can still be used after minor repairs. Soon, we will also have a heavy armored unit."
Old Yorek's words were not only for Jon but also for everyone else. After all, everyone had fought so hard against this heavy armored unit, and now they would also possess such powerful combat strength, which was a cause for celebration.
Jon nodded and looked at Lyman, saying, "Ser Lyman, are you interested in joining us? I see that the soldiers of Darry City are very well-trained. Come to my army, and I will arrange officer positions for them."
"No..." Lyman was about to agree, saying 'no problem,' but then he remembered that Martin had always been the one to make decisions, so he instinctively looked at him.
While collecting the bodies of the soldiers and civilians, Martin had personally witnessed the dire consequences of his own mistakes, filling him with remorse.
If not for Mond's reminder beside him, he might not have reacted. "Lord Jon, no problem, this is Darry City's honor." Martin stood up, looking at Jon's feet as he spoke.
Jon nodded, looked at him, and continued, "Now that we have acquired those heavy armors, I want to form an elite heavy armored unit to serve as our elite reserve. Do you have any suggestions?"
Seeing Jon ask for his advice, Martin straightened his back and said, "My Lord, I believe we must select loyal and strong soldiers to unleash the power of these heavy armors."
"Well, since House Darry's army will now be integrated with my army, how about you take charge of this matter? You will then command this elite unit, serving as their commander and captain. How does that sound?"
"It is my honor, My Lord..." What?! Martin suddenly looked up at Jon, as if he thought he had misheard.
He had only processed the first half of the sentence, and the latter half caught him off guard. He had initially thought Jon would dislike him because of his rashness, but he didn't expect to be appointed as his personal guard captain.
The most elite unit in an army is the commander's personal guards. It's just that a bastard isn't entitled to a personal guard unit, but in Martin's eyes, it was no different.
If it weren't for the impropriety, he would have immediately knelt before Jon.
"My Lord, rest assured, I will train this elite unit well for you!"
Old Yorek stroked his beard, smiling as he watched the scene unfold.
He had initially thought there was no chance for him to gain merit by following this bastard.
But so far, he had dug riverbanks, worked with Jon to win over the Mountain Clans tribes, and now annihilated the elite of the Westerlands army.
These merits were enough for him to go from knight to baron, and doubling his land would not be a difficult task then.
Even that fellow Tormien would surely not be worse off than himself.
Conversely, without Jon, he would probably have either died at the Green Fork or been captured and died in a prisoner-of-war camp.
He looked at Lyman and found that the young lord was utterly devoted to Jon, even more so than Greatjon was to Robb. And now, with a few words, he had gained a personal guard captain.
Old Yorek concluded that after this war, Jon becoming an Earl would absolutely not be a problem.
Taking Karstark as an example, they were a branch of Stark, and historically there was also a 'Grey Stark.'
Perhaps Jon might even become the founder of the 'White Stark' family in the future.
Considering there was still plenty of food in Darry City, and Tywin had just lost his elite heavy armored unit, he would surely not dare to act rashly.
They decided to reorganize the army here before returning to camp.
In the evening, a simple feast was held to celebrate.