Chapter 44. Invading Westerlands!
Even Arthur, who had grown used to seeing wealth as numbers on a system panel, stopped for a moment when torchlight filled the vault. Boxes of gold dragons stood stacked in rows. Gold ingots sat beside them, along with unsmelted ore, vessels, jewelry, and sealed chests bearing Lannister marks. The light reflected from every surface until the chamber seemed to glow from within. It was not treasure in the bardic sense. It was logistics. War. Food, horses, wages, arms, roads, bribes, repairs, loyalty. Gold was power before some fool dressed it in poetry.
Beland spoke in a low voice. "The reserves Lord Tywin did not move in time. Ore from the mines too."
Arthur exhaled slowly.
This was the cornerstone of revenge.
He returned to the surface in the morning light and opened the Lord Recruitment section of the system. His finger hovered for a long moment, then selected two names.
[Swordsman · Smith]
[Monthly Cost: 5,000 dinars]
[Background: A military noble from a fallen house. Master of swordsmanship and command. Firm and resolute.]
[Skills: Sword specialization, lance charge.]
[Shield Maiden · Diana]
[Monthly Cost: 4,000 dinars]
[Background: Daughter of a Sturgian noble. Believer in the Valkyrie. Calm tactical mind.]
[Skills: One-handed weapon proficiency, shield wall defense.]
Golden light flashed.
Two figures appeared before him. Smith was a middle-aged man with a cold face, sharp eyes, and a longsword at his waist. He carried himself like a soldier who had spent years learning that hesitation was expensive. Diana was tall, silver-haired, and blue-eyed, with a round shield on her back and a battle axe at her side. Her expression was calm, alert, and difficult to impress.
"My lord," they said together, fists to their chests.
"Welcome," Arthur said. He did not waste time on ceremony. "Diana, I give you four thousand men to hold Golden Tooth. Strengthen the defenses, clear enemy remnants in the area, secure the mines, and make certain this retreat route and source of wealth are not lost."
"Understood," Diana replied.
Arthur turned to Smith. "You will receive twenty thousand new recruits and two thousand veteran soldiers as the core. Follow the route Robb Stark once swept: Oxcross, Branding Castle, the Crag. Your goal is not occupation for its own sake. Destroy resistance, loot supplies, create panic, train recruits through battle, and collect anything the army can use. Do not waste men against strong castles. Break weak points and move."
Smith understood at once. "Train through battle. Sustain the army through plunder."
"Yes. Depart as soon as you can."
Smith left to reorganize his force. Arthur began breaking up the remaining troops and newly recruited soldiers, using veterans to stiffen the raw ranks. With the gold converted into system dinars, his army now numbered more than thirty thousand. It was absurd. It was also necessary. A small company could raid, guard roads, and win tournaments. It could not tear into the Westerlands and force Tywin Lannister to look back at his burning house.
Arthur planned to move south himself, toward the heart of Lannister wealth: Casterly Rock and Lannisport.
Then the scouts returned.
"My lord!" one of them shouted, sliding from the saddle in the courtyard. "Enemy force southeast of Golden Tooth. Lannister banners. Four or five thousand men, moving fast toward us. Their leader appears to be Ser Davon Lannister."
Davon Lannister, son of Stafford, had gathered survivors and stragglers after Robb's attack at Oxcross. Somehow, despite Arthur's blockade, word had escaped that an unknown army had infiltrated the Westerlands in disguise. Davon had marched fast, likely guessing Golden Tooth as the target, and arrived just as Smith's force was leaving the castle.
The two armies met at a mountain pass southeast of Golden Tooth.
Both sides were full of new recruits. Smith, however, had two thousand experienced veterans at his center. He did not hesitate. In narrow terrain, hesitation was a gift to the enemy. He placed the veterans as the arrowhead and drove the entire army forward before Davon's men could settle their lines.
The valley erupted.
Arrows traded overhead. Infantry slammed into infantry. Cavalry tried to find room to flank and found rocks, trees, and shouting men instead. Smith kept the veterans concentrated, using them like a wedge to pierce the Lannister center. Davon's troops were raw, but they wanted revenge and held longer than Arthur would have liked.
Then the gate of Golden Tooth opened again.
Arthur led thirty thousand fresh troops out of the castle and into the Lannister flank.
Davon saw the strange banners, the ranks stretching like a forest of spears, and the color drained from his face.
"How?" he shouted, voice breaking through the noise. "Where did they come from?"
No answer came. Only shields, spears, and the sound of men realizing numbers had betrayed them.
Attacked from front and side, the Lannister line collapsed. Some threw away weapons. Others fled. Many knelt and begged. Davon tried to break out with his personal guards, but there were too many enemies around him. He was captured before the sun had fully climbed.
They dragged him before Arthur without his helmet, hair tangled, face bloodied, back still straight with the last scraps of pride.
"Who are you?" Davon hissed. "Why invade the Westerlands?"
Arthur looked at him as if he were already part of the ground.
"Kill him," he said to Kator. "From now on, men named Lannister are not kept alive unless I say otherwise. The prisoners go to the mines. Let Lannister men dig Lannister gold."
Kator's sword fell. Davon Lannister's head rolled onto the dirt, eyes still wide with rage that had lost its body.
Arthur stepped over the corpse and looked southwest.
Casterly Rock waited in that direction. So did Lannisport. So did Tywin's pride.
"Reorganize the army," Arthur said. "Rest for one day. Tomorrow, we march south."
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