CHAPTER 143
Outside Winter Town.
On a grassy field near Winterfell's main gate, the soldiers of House Glover and the Skagosi warriors formed a wide circle around Garon and Sparta. Jon Snow stood atop the outer wall with a visibly nervous Sansa and Asha, watching the duel unfolding below.
Sparta, one of the duel's participants, fixed his fierce gaze on Garon. His eyes burned not only with hostility but with the excitement of finally facing someone bold enough to challenge him.
"Since I became chieftain, no one has dared provoke me."
"And you are the first!"
He let out a low growl before lifting the enormous obsidian warhammer resting beside him.
Garon remained perfectly calm. He tightened his grip on his greatsword, leaned slightly forward, and settled into an aggressive stance.
The two warriors stared at one another, the atmosphere becoming so tense it seemed almost tangible.
Even the Skagosi, who had been laughing moments earlier, fell completely silent as they watched the duel about to begin.
A raven circled above them from the battlements of Winterfell.
After several passes overhead, it let out a sharp caw, almost as though urging the battle to begin.
The instant the raven cried, Sparta attacked.
With a thunderous roar, he charged like a giant mammoth, swinging his massive warhammer with enough force to shatter stone walls.
Garon refused to meet the attack head-on. Instead, he stepped lightly to the side with remarkable agility, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow.
The warhammer slammed into the frozen earth, sending dirt, snow, and shattered turf flying in every direction.
At the very moment Sparta's momentum reached its limit, Garon struck.
His greatsword shot forward like a viper, aiming not to cleave but to stab directly toward Sparta's wrist.
The attack was swift and precise.
Sparta instinctively jerked his arm backward, nearly losing his grip on the warhammer.
Unable to steady himself, he stumbled back several steps, surprise flashing across his face.
He had never imagined that this Northern lord, whose build rivaled his own, possessed such terrifying speed and refined swordsmanship.
"Hmph."
"Northmen may not have much strength..."
"But they're as nimble as rats."
A flicker of irritation crossed Sparta's face as his attacks became even more ferocious, attempting to force Garon into a contest of raw power.
This time, however, Garon used the greatsword in his hands to teach him what true strength really meant.
His expression remained calm.
As Sparta charged once more with another devastating swing, Garon advanced instead of retreating.
The greatsword crashed directly into the descending warhammer.
Clang!
The deafening collision echoed across the field.
To the utter disbelief of the surrounding Skagosi, the overwhelming force sent Sparta stumbling backward several steps before he crashed heavily onto the grass.
"Argh!"
Both embarrassed and enraged, Sparta snatched up his fallen weapon, surged back to his feet, and rushed Garon with every ounce of strength he possessed.
By now he had completely forgotten this was merely a sparring match.
Only one thought remained in his mind.
Defeat the man who had humiliated him.
"A savage truly is a savage."
"He understands nothing beyond violence."
"If I want the Skagosi to submit, then I must first teach them fear."
A cold killing intent surfaced within Garon's eyes as he raised his greatsword once more to meet Sparta's charge.
Clang!
Sparta lifted the obsidian warhammer high and successfully blocked Garon's strike.
A savage grin spread across his face.
"Now that's more like it!"
"Again!"
With a burst of strength, he knocked Garon's blade aside before swinging the warhammer downward with enough force to split mountains.
This time Garon refused to evade.
Gripping his sword with both hands, he answered strength with strength.
Their weapons collided again and again, sparks bursting through the air as murderous intent intertwined between them.
Neither man could afford the slightest mistake.
One error would mean being crushed beneath a hammer or cut down by a greatsword.
Everyone watching could now tell that the duel had become completely serious.
Upon the walls of Winterfell, Sansa watched with pale cheeks, her hands clasped tightly together as she silently prayed to the old gods.
"Old Gods..."
"Please grant Garon victory."
Seeing her obvious anxiety, Jon smiled reassuringly.
"Sansa, don't worry."
"Garon won't lose."
"If he could slay Victarion Greyjoy in single combat amidst thousands of Ironborn, then defeating one Skagosi warrior won't be difficult."
Those words instantly stunned Asha.
"So..."
"So Uncle Victarion truly died by his hand."
After recovering from her surprise, she watched Garon skillfully exchanging blows with Sparta, an indescribable light gradually appearing within her eyes.
She felt no resentment toward Garon for killing Victarion.
To Asha, a true warrior dying gloriously in battle was an honorable end.
Instead, as she watched him fight, ripples quietly spread through her heart once more.
"If only such a man could stand beside me..."
"What would the North matter?"
She sighed inwardly.
"What a pity..."
"Why must he be a Northman?"
"If only he had been born Ironborn..."
A new thought quietly emerged.
She subtly glanced toward Sansa, whose entire attention remained fixed upon Garon.
"Perhaps..."
"I can still win him over."
"Whatever the Stark girl can offer..."
"So can I."
"If he is willing to stand beside me..."
"Then after I claim the Seastone Chair..."
"A marriage alliance would not be impossible."
While Asha quietly contemplated how to recruit Garon to her side, Garon himself had already grown tired of prolonging the duel.
"It's time to finish this."
His crimson eyes gleamed sharply.
He deliberately revealed an opening.
Sparta, already breathing heavily, immediately seized the opportunity and swung his warhammer with all his remaining strength.
Exactly as Garon had expected.
With perfect timing, Garon slipped aside.
His greatsword swept across Sparta's exposed arm the instant the hammer completed its swing.
A sharp flash of steel.
Blood burst from the wound.
Pain shot through Sparta's arm, forcing his fingers to release the warhammer.
The enormous weapon crashed onto the ground.
Without giving him the slightest chance to recover, Garon stepped forward and slammed the flat of his greatsword across Sparta's body.
Bang!
The massive Skagosi chieftain flew backward before crashing heavily onto the earth, sending dirt flying in every direction.
Before Sparta could even rise, the tip of Garon's greatsword was already resting lightly against his throat.
Silence.
Absolute silence swept across the field.
Every Skagosi stared in stunned disbelief.
The mighty chieftain they had regarded as invincible had been decisively defeated by a Northern lord.
Their deeply rooted pride and contempt shattered completely in that single exchange.
Atop the wall, Jon showed no surprise whatsoever.
Instead, he suddenly raised his voice.
"Bear Slayer!"
His shout immediately ignited the Glover soldiers.
They raised their weapons high into the air.
"Bear Slayer!"
"Bear Slayer!"
"Bear Slayer!"
Even Asha found herself pressing her lips tightly together to stop herself from joining the cheers.
Yet the excitement shining within her eyes completely betrayed the admiration in her heart.
The thunderous chants echoed throughout Winterfell.
Sparta lay motionless, struggling to accept his defeat.
Only after Garon sheathed his greatsword and extended a hand toward him did he slowly raise his head.
"Do you wish to continue, Chieftain Sparta?"
Sparta stared at the outstretched hand before looking around at the stunned expressions of his tribesmen.
The humiliation and anger upon his face slowly faded, replaced by something far more complicated.
Respect.
The purest reverence the Skagosi held for overwhelming strength.
Ignoring the blood still flowing from his wounded arm, Sparta gazed steadily at Garon.
Finally, he reached forward and grasped Garon's hand.
Garon pulled him back to his feet.
Before everyone present, Sparta stepped backward.
He clenched his right fist before striking it heavily against his left breast with a loud thud.
Among the Skagosi, this was the highest gesture of respect and submission.
"You have won."
His voice had completely lost its previous arrogance.
Only sincere respect remained.
"You and your sword have earned the loyalty of the Skagosi."
"Until the day we smash that cursed Euron Greyjoy..."
"We shall obey your commands."
After speaking, Sparta formally lowered his head before Garon, openly acknowledging his submission.
He then turned toward every Skagosi warrior and raised his voice.
"Giant Bear Slayer!"
"Giant Bear Slayer!"
All five hundred Skagosi pounded their chests and roared in unison, echoing their chieftain's cry as they acknowledged Garon's strength and accepted his command.
From that moment onward, these fierce Skagosi had been subdued by someone even stronger than themselves.
"Now..."
"I'll shape them little by little..."
"Until they obey every one of my commands."
A faint smile appeared on Garon's face as his gaze swept across the cheering crowd.
When he noticed the unusual expression in Asha's eyes atop the wall, his smile deepened even further.