'Attack King's Landing? Are you joking with me?' Roose Bolton thought, and for a moment, he seemed to realize what Jon was going to do, but he still spoke some innocuous words.
"How is this possible? We—" He was about to say that he would obey Robb's orders, but Jon cut him off directly.
"Get up."
Jon's command was like the roar of a Direwolf, short, deadly, and without warning.
Led by Dondarrion, they charged at the Dreadfort soldiers closest to them, beginning to snatch their weapons.
The heavily wounded soldiers, whose faces were just covered in blood, wiped away the beast blood, and their eyes released a wolf-like ferocity.
This scene made Roose Bolton feel an electric current shoot from his feet to his scalp, making his hair stand on end.
Some of the 'wounded soldiers' snatched weapons, while others quickly disassembled stretchers and assembled them into spears, with such speed that it was dazzling, as if these men had been preparing for a long time.
Harrion directly pulled a two-handed broadsword from a stretcher. It was then that Roose Bolton finally reacted. He stood up abruptly, drew his sword, and shouted loudly, "Jon Snow! You are committing mutiny!" At this point, Harrion had already led his men rapidly approaching him.
He shouted loudly, trying to give orders, but his voice was drowned out by the sounds of the soldiers fighting.
"Mutiny! It's mutiny! Someone is staging a mutiny! Quickly protect Lord Bolton!" Polliver finally realized what was happening and yelled in alarm at the guards in the hall. "Open the door! Open the door for me!"
"Move it—" Jon rushed out from the shadows in the corner, directly engaging in a fierce fight with the Dreadfort soldiers who tried to intercept him.
Wielding two swords, Jon easily parried the spears thrust at him by the Dreadfort soldiers, then kicked one of them away. The Dreadfort soldier who was kicked flew backward, knocking down four or five comrades.
By the time the others recovered, they found that the Dreadfort soldier who had been kicked away was already dead.
Soon, Harrion, broadsword in hand, led his soldiers to clash with Roose Bolton's soldiers.
The shouts of killing inside quickly alarmed the Dreadfort soldiers outside, who pounded on the main door, wanting to know what was happening inside.
Although the main door could not be breached immediately, someone quickly ran outside to call for reinforcements.
Meanwhile, Martin, who was leading Jon's heavy armored unit, had already begun his operation.
Jon's heavy armored unit had been reorganized into an eight-hundred-strong "Heavy Armored Battalion."
Composed of five hundred heavy armored soldiers and three hundred archers, it was the absolute elite of Jon's army.
The moment Martin saw Jon's raven fly before him, he quickly led his men to the Tower of the Wailing.
The unit, primarily composed of five hundred silver-armored heavy infantry, advanced like an unstoppable, crushing wheel to the base of the Tower of the Wailing.
The Dreadfort soldiers, who were about to reinforce, saw such a well-equipped army approaching them and immediately felt as if they were back at the Green Fork.
Although they had not participated in the direct fighting due to Lord Bolton's self-interest, nor had they directly confronted this heavy armored unit, the army wearing this heavy armor had left a deep impression on them that day.
The Dreadfort soldiers stationed around the Tower of the Wailing were all mobilized by this army.
"This is Dreadfort territory! What are you doing?!"
"Do not advance further, or we will open fire!"
The Dreadfort officer threatened, but Martin ignored him, simply ordering the Heavy Armored Battalion to form a battle array.
His orders were to tie down the Dreadfort army at all costs.
Now the two sides were in a standoff. If the other side dared to pull people away for support, he would immediately launch an attack.
At this moment, the fighting in the Hall of Hundred Hearths continued.
The soldiers Roose Bolton kept by his side truly were elites; Harrion had been unable to break through their defenses for a long time.
And behind Jon, the Dreadfort soldiers guarding the tower had begun to ram the main door.
Boom—boom—boom— The door, nearly two centuries old, groaned under the impact, and wood splinters and dust continuously fell.
On Jon's side, Polliver and a dozen men were trying to break open the door, while Harrion faced soldiers personally commanded by Roose Bolton.
"Jon! Do you know what you are doing? This is mutiny! This is rebellion!" Roose Bolton shouted to Jon, who was almost across the hall from him, while directing his soldiers, attempting to break the morale of the "rebels."
The result was a scene he would never forget: Jon discarded his blunted longsword, bent down, and grabbed the ankle of a fallen Dreadfort soldier's corpse—the corpse, armor and all, weighed over two hundred pounds. With a powerful twist of his waist and abdomen, he swung the heavy body like a windmill!
The "human hammer" of flesh and steel armor whistled as it crashed into the enemy ranks, the sickening crack of breaking bones making teeth ache. One soldier tried to block with his shield but was sent flying, man and shield together, to smash against the wall and slide down like a puddle of mud.
At that moment, all the Dreadfort soldiers who witnessed this scene lost all color in their faces. This was not a battle; it was a massacre, a giant from ancient legends rampaging among mortals.
Soon, he tore open a gap in the encirclement and charged directly towards his position!
Roose Bolton, who was anxiously standing on the throne, watched all this unfold. Seeing Jon leave the door, he quickly urged.
"Quick! Go open the door!"
But unexpectedly, Jon charged directly to Harrion's side and snatched the two-handed heavy armored broadsword from his hand.
He rushed over, holding the broadsword in one hand and the corpse in the other.
The Dreadfort soldiers who saw this scene were so scared their legs felt weak, and Roose Bolton himself was so terrified his tongue tied in knots.
The next second, Jon directly broke through his defense and placed the broadsword, almost as tall as a man, against Roose Bolton's neck.
The soldiers who had just been fighting stopped their actions angrily, without even needing someone to shout an order like "Stop it."
At this moment, all that could be heard was the continuous pounding on the main door.
Feeling the cold blade on his neck, Roose Bolton exclaimed, "Jon, if you let me go, I won't tell Robb what happened here. Otherwise, if he finds out what you've done, you will surely be sentenced to death!"
As expected of Lord Leech, even at such a critical moment, Roose Bolton remained calm, which made Jon look at him with a bit more respect, but it was clear he had miscalculated one thing.
Jon twirled his sword, a cold, mocking smile playing on his lips, and came before him, saying, "Lord Bolton, you seem to have forgotten where I come from. The Wall, the Night's Watch. I am a deserter from there, and I will have to return sooner or later. But now, anyone who dares to stand in my way of avenging my father is my enemy. Do you understand?!!!"
After Jon spoke these words, Roose Bolton finally lost his composure. He gritted his teeth and said, "Jon! You! You despicable bastard!"
With things having come to this point, he could only attack Jon's parentage.
He had always been calculating, calculating, calculating, but in the end, he didn't know how to calculate against someone like Jon, who had no future.
Seize titles and lands? Sorry, I don't have those things.
Death penalty? Sorry, I just returned from the Wall. Seeing Jon, who was like a rogue, and the bound and controlled vassal knights, Roose Bolton was completely out of options. He slumped powerlessly into his chair, having completely lost the will to resist.
"Lord Bolton, hand over your army to me. You know my command ability, and you know my character. If you entrust them to me, I will not use them as meat shields or expendables. I truly cannot trust you with my back, or I will kill you right here. These are your two choices; you decide." Jon looked at Roose Bolton with his grey eyes, and ultimately, he chose his life.
"Open the door!" Jon said nothing more, but ordered someone to open the main door, which was still being pounded upon.
Once the door opened, the Dreadfort soldiers rushed in, only to see Roose Bolton held hostage.
"Everyone, put down your weapons."
"Lord Bolton." A Dreadfort knight seemed unwilling to accept the reality before him.
"Put them down, this little bastard won't harm me," Roose Bolton said angrily.
Since the two had already shown their true colors, there was no more "Lord this" or "Lord that." He then commanded, "Tell our men outside to cease resistance."
"This— Yes, my Lord."
Seeing the Dreadfort knight leave, Jon turned to Harrion and said, "Harrion, have Meiqi Saiwen and the others come over as well. Tell them I need to speak with them."
"Oh, alright."
Soon, the Northern lords of Harrenhal all arrived at the Hall of Hundred Hearths.
Meiqi Saiwen, who arrived with the others, felt something was wrong the moment he stepped into the hall.
They didn't even need to enter the Tower of the Wailing; when they saw the Heavy Armored Battalion confronting the Dreadfort soldiers outside, they realized that something important must have happened inside.
He sniffed; the smell of blood in the air had not yet dissipated, and there were still cracks on the oak door from violent impacts.
Inside the hall, something seemed to be piled in the corner, covered by black tent canvas, but from the continuously seeping crimson blood, it appeared to be fresh corpses.
Everything indicated that a fierce conflict had recently occurred here.
He looked ahead again; the chair that had once been occupied by Aegon the Conqueror, Jaehaerys I, Prince Daemon, and King Robert was now taken by a young man.
Roose Bolton, the commander-in-chief of the Eastern Army, was being held hostage and stood to the side.
"Jon, this—" Meiqi Saiwen already realized what had just happened, but he still wanted a clear explanation.
"Sit down, my Lords." Jon did not immediately explain, but instead appeased the Northern lords, including Vargo Hoat, the leader of the Brave Companions.
Everyone was somewhat uneasy and hesitant, but under Jon's accumulated prestige, they still chose to obey his will.
Meiqi Saiwen felt the chair beneath him was cold, which made him feel even more uncertain.
Before, when they supported Jon, he repeatedly declined. Now that everyone no longer wanted to fight, he was instead using such violent means to seize military power, which truly made it difficult to understand what he was thinking.
Meiqi Saiwen quietly observed the others and found that the Manderly and Holwood family members also looked wary.
At this moment, Jon cleared his throat and spoke: "My Lords, Renly is now dead, and the Stormlands belong to Stannis. Soon he will lead a large army to attack King's Landing. I have received news that the seventy thousand strong army of House Tyrell has joined forces with the Lannister army. If Stannis fails, we will face over a hundred thousand Southern and Western armies. Therefore, I have decided to lead the army to the Crownlands and conquer King's Landing with Stannis! I have already sounded out your opinions, and you all are unwilling to continue fighting, so I had no choice but to resort to this strategy."
Jon's voice slowly echoed through the hall, while the others tilted their heads, furrowed their brows, and scratched their ears, seemingly having never considered this possibility.
Lannister and Tyrell? In the eyes of many, the Tyrells should have been "on their side."