CHAPTER 85
"Garon!"
Robb exclaimed in surprise.
Garon nodded toward Robb before turning his cold gaze toward Greatjon Umber.
"At this moment, Lord Stark remains imprisoned in King's Landing with his life hanging by a thread. Winterfell summoned us here to aid House Stark and rescue Lord Stark!"
"And yet you!"
Garon's sharp voice echoed through the Great Hall like a drawn blade.
"You have repeatedly caused trouble and provoked conflict among the bannermen. Are you not deliberately holding us back?"
Greatjon Umber's face twitched violently before he let out a cold sneer.
"Holding you back? I came here for the North, not to listen to your empty words!"
"For the North?"
Garon sneered disdainfully and suddenly turned toward Robb.
"The affairs of the North belong to House Stark!"
His eyes then swept across the gathered bannermen.
"They belong to every loyal bannerman standing in this hall!"
Then his gaze returned to Greatjon once more.
"As for you…"
A mocking smile slowly appeared at the corner of Garon's lips.
"You disregard your liege lord's authority again and again. A man who defies his oath is nothing more than an oathbreaker!"
Greatjon immediately exploded in fury.
With a violent kick, he overturned the chair beside him, pointed his sword at Garon, and roared angrily,
"Giant Bear Slayer! Do you wish to test whether my sword is sharp enough?"
Garon showed no weakness whatsoever.
He instantly drew the greatsword from his waist and replied coldly,
"My sword is not dull either!"
Greatjon Umber had always possessed a fiery temper.
Seeing Garon openly challenge him, he could no longer restrain himself. Letting out a furious roar, he charged forward and swung his sword directly toward Garon.
The surrounding lords were all shocked.
Unfortunately, by the time they reacted, it was already too late to stop him.
Facing the fierce gust of wind rushing toward him, Garon remained completely calm.
Rather than dodging, he stepped forward and directly met Greatjon head-on.
Clang!
The two greatswords collided violently.
The instant their blades crossed, Greatjon's expression changed dramatically.
An overwhelming force continuously surged from Garon's sword, forcing Greatjon to use every ounce of strength in his body just to resist.
Yet despite this, Garon's greatsword still slowly pressed downward.
"Hngh…"
Greatjon's pupils shrank violently.
He leaned backward and desperately exerted all his strength, trying to overpower Garon.
However, a cold light flashed through Garon's eyes.
With a sudden roar, he unleashed even greater strength.
Boom!
Greatjon staggered backward two full steps under the pressure.
Garon instantly seized the opening.
Gripping his greatsword tightly with both hands, he stepped forward and brought the blade crashing down toward Greatjon's unstable body.
Only then did Robb finally react.
"Garon, spare him!"
Almost simultaneously, Greatjon barely managed to stabilize himself and hurriedly raised his sword to block.
Bang!
The moment the blades collided again, Greatjon's right arm went numb.
His greatsword flew directly from his hand, spinning through the air before crashing heavily onto the stone floor.
Greatjon himself lost balance completely and stumbled backward before falling hard onto the ground.
Garon stepped forward slowly, towering over him with his greatsword in hand.
"For Lord Stark's sake, I will spare your life today."
"Next time, anyone who dares disrespect Lord Stark will end like this table!"
His sharp gaze swept across all the lords gathered inside the hall.
Then, with a sudden swing of his greatsword, he slashed downward toward the long table nearby.
Crash!
The sturdy wooden table split apart instantly, scattering food and cups across the floor.
As the shattered table collapsed loudly, every lord who met Garon's gaze felt their hearts tighten involuntarily.
"What a loyal Glover…"
Roose Bolton narrowed his pale eyes slightly.
At this moment, he suddenly realized that his ambition to seize military command from Robb might already be impossible.
Meanwhile, Maege Mormont, Rickard Karstark, and several other Northern lords showed no displeasure at all.
Instead, their eyes carried clear admiration.
With his actions today, Garon had thoroughly earned the respect of nearly everyone present.
Robb looked toward Garon gratefully before stepping forward and extending a hand toward Greatjon.
"My father once told me that drawing steel before your liege lord is punishable by death."
"But I believe you merely wished to carve meat for me."
Greatjon's expression changed briefly before he suddenly burst into loud laughter.
"Carve meat?"
"You're right!"
Then he glanced toward Garon.
"But with Glover standing here, who else would dare carve meat before him?"
Faced with the olive branch offered by Robb, Greatjon ultimately chose to accept it.
After Robb helped him back to his feet, Greatjon looked at Garon once more.
"Hey, Giant Bear Slayer."
"I admit it. You've convinced me."
Greatjon Umber naturally respected strength above all else.
Only powerful warriors could truly earn his approval.
At this moment, he was genuinely impressed by Garon.
If Garon himself had carried the Stark name, Greatjon suspected he might already have sworn absolute loyalty to him.
Garon naturally understood Greatjon's straightforward temperament and wisely chose to stop there.
"The Umber family is equally formidable."
The two men stared at one another briefly before suddenly bursting into laughter together.
With that laughter, the conflict within the Great Hall was finally resolved.
After everyone gradually calmed down, Robb stepped forward and announced the evening's main matter.
A military council would be held that night to discuss the march south.
The gathered Northern lords readily agreed before leaving the Great Hall in small groups.
Soon, only Garon and Robb remained behind.
Robb glanced at the shattered long table and sighed helplessly.
"Garon, if not for you, I truly would not know how to control these people."
Garon's eyes flickered slightly as he replied,
"You do not need to control them, Robb. You are a Stark."
"Their loyalty comes from the ancient oaths sworn by their blood."
He stepped closer to Robb and continued softly,
"You only need to let them see your character clearly, and naturally they will follow your command."
Robb fell into thoughtful silence after hearing this.
Garon did not interrupt him and instead quietly thought to himself,
"A Stark may not need to control them, but I certainly do."
"The more loyal I appear to House Stark now, and the deeper my connection with them becomes, the less resistance I will face when the time finally comes for me to control the North myself."
Garon recalled the reactions of Greatjon, Maege Mormont, and the others moments ago.
Today's performance had already begun producing results.
At this moment, Robb finally came back to his senses and looked toward Garon seriously.
"Garon, before Father marched south, he told me that if I ever encountered difficulties, I could seek your counsel."
"I hope you will advise me as honestly as you advised Father."
Garon immediately answered solemnly,
"Yes, Lord Robb."
Robb no longer hesitated and directly revealed his concerns.
"Garon, do you think I should give command of the army to someone else?"
"Maester Luwin, Sansa, and even Bran oppose me personally leading the army south. Lords like Bolton also wish for me to hand military command over to them."
"I still have not decided."
"Can you give me your opinion?"
The moment Robb asked this question, Garon's thoughts immediately stirred.
"This is it."
"This is the perfect opportunity to persuade Robb to remain in the North."
Outwardly, he appeared thoughtful.
In reality, he was already carefully choosing words that would ensure his own future plans unfolded smoothly.
A moment later, Garon finally looked directly into Robb's expectant eyes.
"Lord Robb, personally, I believe you should remain in the North and oversee the overall situation."
"Oversee the overall situation?"
Robb looked confused.
"Is anything more important than rescuing my father?"
Garon slowly shook his head.
"Robb, you have forgotten the Iron Islands."
Robb immediately understood.
"You mean Balon Greyjoy will take advantage of the North being weakened and attack us?"
Garon nodded firmly.
"Exactly."
"Balon's only surviving son died in Winterfell. Combined with the old hatred left from Balon's Rebellion nine years ago, the Ironborn will absolutely send their fleets to raid the North."
He paused briefly before lowering his voice.
"And if our war in the Riverlands drags into a stalemate, there is even a strong possibility they will attempt to seize Winterfell itself."
Robb's expression immediately changed.
The more he thought about it, the more reasonable Garon's words seemed.
"Yes… Theon died in Winterfell. How could the Iron Islands simply endure that humiliation?"
"The only reason they have not acted yet is because they feared the North's alliance with the Crown. But now…"
Garon noticed Robb wavering and immediately pressed further.
"Robb, an invasion from the Iron Islands is almost inevitable now."
"So besides fighting the Lannisters, we must also prepare for how to resist the Ironborn."
Robb became even more conflicted.
"If I remain in the North, then what happens to the army marching south?"
Garon's eyes flickered faintly before he calmly gave his answer.