The Mountain of Ice and Fire

"Justice?" The Mountain smiled slightly. "I haven't been in King's Landing for long, but I've heard the people's opinions of you, and they're all bad, very bad. In the eyes of the common people, you have nothing to do with justice, but rather with evil."

"What about the people's evaluation of you for bringing bread to the citizens of King's Landing?"

The Mountain closed his mouth and didn't answer. Telling the truth would only make the Imp even more disappointed.

The people's evaluation of him was pretty good because he gave everyone bread and also hired two thousand soldiers and more than six hundred craftsmen and laborers. These people's military pay could be used to support their families.

The common people are very practical. They know who saved their lives with food. And once the people suffer, the one to blame can only be the Imp, Tyrion, because he is the Hand.

That's the difference!

"Imp," the Mountain said, "the justice you seek will bring you a bloody disaster."

"I'm prepared for that." The Imp's mismatched eyes, one black and one green, stared at the Mountain. The Mountain's gaze was sharp and his thinking was profound, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to say such a warning to him. "My sister has wanted me dead since the day I was born." The Imp shrugged his shoulders. "I clearly remember two times. Once, a maid saved me from the fishpond; once, Jaime stopped Cersei when she took a pair of scissors to cut off my little brother. I was a deformed monster when I was born, my eyes are different sizes and colors, one black and one green, and my legs are severely deformed, truly a monster."

Tyrion stood up, swaying, and hiccuped.

"Just being prepared isn't enough." The Mountain decided to remind this man who was abandoned by the world but didn't abandon the world. "If I were you, from today on, whether sleeping, eating, walking, or fighting, you must have two people by your side."

"Which two people?"

"Bronn and Podrick."

The Imp chuckled: "Bronn is the kind of person who will immediately go with whoever offers the highest price, but Podrick is a good kid, very loyal."

"Pay Bronn the highest price, and he will always be yours and fiercely loyal. Anyway, you're not short of money."

The Imp eliminated Cersei's people in the City Watch, leaving none behind, which would completely enrage Cersei and make her determined to kill him—Tyrion Lannister.

"Good idea," Tyrion laughed. "I've already told Bronn that no matter how much anyone offers him, like if my sister offers him money to kill me, no matter how much, I'll pay him twice their price."

In this aspect, the Imp is indeed a master of manipulating people. A top master of manipulating people is often because he can understand people's hearts and weaknesses.

"Money can buy Bronn's loyalty," the Mountain said. "Lord Hand, shall we take a walk down Steel Street?"

"Let's go!"

*

Steel Street, where all the city's blacksmiths are concentrated, and all the city's ironware is also concentrated here. Clang, clang, clang, the blacksmiths in all the shops are working hard.

With the great war imminent, Lord Hand and Lord Mountain have ordered that this work must be completed within fifteen days.

The Mountain and the Imp walked on Steel Street, attracting the attention of everyone on the street. One is a giant, and the other is a dwarf. Walking together, the contrast is too great.

The two walked into a blacksmith shop. Two apprentices were hammering iron blanks, and a blacksmith master was hammering a large iron ring. The iron ring was just a rough shape.

Blacksmiths throughout the street are working hard to forge iron rings and then connect the iron rings forged by each family.

As soon as the Imp and the Mountain entered, the blacksmith boss immediately greeted them with a smile: "Lord Hand, Lord Earl."

The Mountain was personally granted the title of Earl by the King. This news spread throughout King's Landing along with the fame of Westerling noodles and heat-sterilized pathogenic milk.

The Imp walked over, and the blacksmith and apprentices stopped their work together, put down their hammers, and panted.

"How heavy is this iron ring?" the Imp asked.

The iron ring was about the size of the Imp's head.

"Twenty-odd pounds, my lord."

"One is twenty-odd pounds, ten are two hundred-odd pounds, one hundred are two thousand pounds, five hundred are ten thousand pounds. Mountain, about how many do we need?"

"I don't know, we'll see when the time comes," the Mountain said nonchalantly.

The Imp nodded. There are blacksmiths here, so it's not convenient to discuss many things. The more you say, the more you reveal. These are all military secrets.

Although every household of blacksmiths on Steel Street is forging the same heavy iron rings, the blacksmiths don't know exactly what these iron rings will be used for.

The Imp kindly encouraged the blacksmiths and apprentices in the blacksmith shop to work hard, while the Mountain didn't say a word. The blacksmiths and apprentices looked at the Imp, the light of the flames reflected their faces covered in hot sweat, and there wasn't much friendly feeling in everyone's eyes.

The two then came out and went into some blacksmith shops along the way to check on the work, with more than a dozen guards following them. Every time they arrived at a shop, the guards guarded the gate.

After coming out of Steel Street, the Imp and the Mountain returned to the Red Keep.

"Mountain, why did you remain silent in Steel Street?"

"I set a time limit for them. If they don't complete it within the specified time, I will punish them severely. Now, just go and check on the progress. There's no need to talk nonsense. The more nonsense you talk, the less they will fear you. If they don't fear you, their work will become slack."

"I don't want them to fear me! I hope they can be closer to me."

"So you are the Hand, and I am the general. A kind-hearted person cannot be a soldier; a kind-hearted person should not be a general," the Mountain said. "The Hand is different. The Hand is a liar, a politician, a conspirator, and a sweet-talker."

The Imp raised his head to look at the Mountain. He felt that the Mountain's words seemed to make sense: "If these blacksmiths fail to complete the tasks you have assigned them, what will happen?"

"I have already told them the consequences," the Mountain said lightly.

"How will you punish them?"

"Cut off the blacksmith shop owner's hand," the Mountain said.

The Imp shrugged his shoulders. Violence cannot truly make people submit; it will only make people submit with resentment: "Really?"

"That day hasn't arrived yet. You'll know when the time comes!"

"Are you deliberately intimidating them?"

"Cutting off the blacksmith shop owner's hand is not cutting off the blacksmith's and apprentice's hands. We still need people to work."

"Some blacksmith masters are also the owners themselves."

"Then it's his bad luck."

"Okay!—How is the construction of the stone towers on both sides of Blackwater Bay going, and the huge winch?"

"Everything is progressing steadily. Including the trebuchets on Mud Gate Square, the carpenters are working overtime every day. People can rest, but the work can't stop. Two shifts alternate, working around the clock."

"How many trebuchets are you preparing to build?"

"I'm preparing to make Stannis's warships unable to dock and be completely sunk by stones. How many trebuchets do you think I need?"

"Three?!"

Indeed, in the original world trajectory, the Imp commanded the Battle of Blackwater and only built three trebuchets. His manpower, material resources, and financial resources were very limited. He called the three trebuchets 'King's Landing Three Whores'.

This guy, whose life cannot be separated from prostitutes, named the trebuchets in such an inappropriate way!

"Thirty," the Mountain said lightly. "I also have to thank the citizens who built houses along the outer city wall. The dismantled wood and stone have been a great help."

*

0349 Chapter 2: The Demon Seeks the Truth

A group of people walked onto the King's Road, and the towering Red Keep city walls could be seen overhead.

"Mountain, you led your troops away from Harrenhal. Who did you leave behind to fight Roose Bolton?"

"Why fight Roose Bolton?"

"After you leave, he will definitely lead his troops to attack Harrenhal."

"He won't attack Harrenhal."

"Oh?" The Imp had a very surprised expression.

"He can't capture Harrenhal." The Mountain stared at the Imp. "Unless he has a dragon. With Roose Bolton's character, after probing with a small group of troops, the city gates will be closed tightly, and the trebuchets and archers on the city walls will guard the gate. He will resolutely head west to attack Tywin—our father's rear, and form a pincer attack with Edmure Tully of Riverrun. If I were in Harrenhal, he wouldn't dare to attack Tywin's Westerlands army because my cavalry would pursue his infantry and beat him to a pulp. But now that I and my army are not in Harrenhal, he doesn't need to worry about being pursued and will definitely lead his troops to attack our Westerlands main force."

The Imp stopped and stared at the Mountain with a strange look of amazement. The Mountain looked calmly at this arrogant and clever guy. He knew that the Imp was 'stabbed' by his military analysis. Such a clear and straightforward military analysis could not have been thought of by the rude and reckless Mountain.

"Mountain, according to your analysis, isn't our father—Duke Tywin without a way to escape?"

"If I say that the Northern army will soon suddenly and completely withdraw, Roose Bolton will also quickly retreat, cross the Green Fork north, Edmure will be isolated and helpless, the Westerlands crisis will be resolved, our father—Duke Tywin will turn the Riverlands into a scorched earth, and defeat the Riverlands lords one after another, then return to garrison Harrenhal and be ready to respond to the Baratheon army's siege of King's Landing, would you believe it?"

"I don't believe it."

The Mountain stared at the Imp's strange eyes and snorted: "I don't believe it either." He strode away, and the Imp moved his short legs and trotted after him: "Hey, Mountain! Hey, hehe…"

The Mountain ignored the Imp and led his guards away in large strides.

The distance between the two sides grew farther and farther. But the Imp is not a person who gives up easily. The Mountain's words just now revealed too much information, which was too incredible. Considering the Mountain's recent performance, he is unlikely to be a person who speaks without thinking.

So, if it's true, why would the battle situation suddenly reverse when the Westerlanders were being completely suppressed? This is unbelievable!

What is Father planning? How would the Mountain know? What did Father tell his fake son-in-law? Is there some top-secret military plan that I, the Imp, haven't been able to find out?

The Imp's posture of running with his short legs was very comical and ridiculous, and the guards following him dared not laugh, although it was indeed very funny.

It was already night, and rows of torches were lit on the walls of the streets on both sides of the King's Road, illuminating the streets brightly.

Ahead, the Mountain suddenly stopped and looked back.

The Imp quickly quickened his pace and ran up: "Hey, Mountain, brother…" His affectionate voice gave the Mountain goosebumps. The Mountain who transmigrated was about the same age as the Imp, both in their twenties, but this super body was already thirty-three years old. The Mountain was born in 266 AC, and this year is 299 AC. The Mountain is thirty-four years old in the lunar calendar. Tyrion Lannister, the Imp, was born in 274 AC, and is actually twenty-five years old this year, and twenty-six years old in the lunar calendar.

Even if the Imp is twenty-six years old, he is still the Mountain's little brother.

But he is used to inner arrogance and superficial humility. Hearing the Mountain say that there would be an amazing reversal in the war between the Westerlands and the North, he was excited and called the Mountain, who was much older than him, brother.

"Imp, be careful of Mandon Moore." The Mountain stopped and decided to point out the crisis the Imp would face.

"Why?"

"Because he will take your life."

Mandon Moore, who was evaluated by Jaime as the most gloomy and cold person in the Kingsguard, was taciturn, and no one could guess what he was thinking. Mandon Moore had never given the Imp a good look either.

After the Great Mountain finished speaking, he continued to move forward. The Imp could not catch up and had to return to his normal speed.

The Great Mountain was not patient enough to wait for the Imp to catch up because he did not want to face the moon in the night side by side with the Imp.

With the Imp's intelligence, the Pandora's box opened by the Mountain would allow this guy to think of many strange things. Some would not be reliable, and some would be very reliable! He would verify them with the Mountain one by one and enjoy it, but the Mountain had no interest in talking nonsense with him.

The Mountain walked into the Red Keep gate. On the Mud Gate Square, the torches illuminated half the sky, and the banging sounds rang out. The carpenters' all-night work was starting again.

In war, many factors determine victory or defeat. The army is only one part of the victory, just like one link in a huge iron chain. Carpenters, blacksmiths, stonemasons, construction workers, horsemen, food, tactics and strategies, conspiracies and tricks are all iron rings on this iron chain of war victory, and none are indispensable.

And Tywin in the Westerlands is undoubtedly one of the top experts in building such a victory iron ring. The North and the Riverlands will fall hard from the peak of victory, and the Westerlands will turn defeat into victory. I just don't know when the 'peace envoy group' prepared by the Imp will set off to Riverrun to rescue Jaime Lannister.

*

"Knock, knock, knock!" There was a knock on the door, polite and rhythmic.

The Mountain was in his residence in the Red Keep, staring at the map on the table. This was a map he had drawn himself, a geographical map of the Seven Kingdoms, with a high probability of proportions and sizes, marking the main cities, rivers, and mountains of each country, as well as the approximate number of troops of the lords within the territory.

"Who is it?"

"My lord, Lord Hand is here and hopes to see you," Erin's voice said.

Lord Hand? That is naturally the Imp.

This guy really has a persevering spirit. Did he hear the great secret that the Westerlands would reverse and couldn't sleep, so he had to come and 'sleep together and talk until dawn'?

To be honest, the Mountain regretted it.

That's the trouble with talking to smart people. Anyone else would have just laughed it off. They wouldn't believe what the Mountain said and would think it was a joke, but the Imp is different.

"Let him in."

The Imp entered with a 'we're all family here' smile. He acted as if the Mountain's room was his own, completely at ease. "Lord Mountain, look what I've brought."

He stepped aside, revealing a line of court maids behind him, each carrying a tightly covered food tray.

"And your favorite Arbor Red, the finest vintage with its golden hue." The Imp nimbly hopped onto a stool, his short legs swinging. He glanced at the crudely drawn map of the Seven Kingdoms on the table. "There are accurate geographical maps in the palace library! Who the hell drew this? The skill is terrible, a complete mess, so ugly! Haha, hahaha!"