The Mountain of Ice and Fire

After the North境号角 sounded in the West City, the East City immediately stirred.

With the creaking of iron winches, the heavy iron gate rose, and the drawbridge simultaneously clattered down, spanning the swollen moat.

Frey cavalry surged out of the city gate, like a torrent of steel and fire, the rumble of hooves on the drawbridge drowning out the sound of the rushing river.

Both men and horses were clad in plate armor, one in ten carrying a torch, the rest wielding long-handled axes with sharp points and heavy blades, enough to shatter bones and tear through armor.

The cavalry rode out four abreast, stretching as far as the eye could see from the city gate, knights, squires, and free riders, bearing torches and long axes, thundering out of the castle.

The swollen river overflowed its banks, swirling darkly at the end of the drawbridge, as high as a horse's belly. On the city walls, war drums thundered, and the Frey cavalry plunged off the drawbridge to the beat, splashing through the water.

The swollen river carried mud and weeds, which hampered the Frey cavalry's charge.

They were still some distance from the wedding tents.

And the Frey's West City had already fallen.

Brynden 'Blackfish' Tully led five hundred heavy cavalry from the Riverlands, charging into the West City like a whirlwind, scattering the Freys in the streets.

After a hail of arrows, the heavy cavalry charged, quickly sweeping through the streets and alleys of the West City, cutting down all in their path, unstoppable.

The West City became a slaughterhouse!

With a crash, the doors of the West City wedding hall, 'opened and closed,' were smashed open from the outside, sending splinters flying and the bolt shattering.

A general on horseback charged in, clad in heavy armor, his horse also draped in black chainmail, he waved his longsword, heading straight for Black Walder Frey, who was holding a heavy axe and looking back in surprise.

Black Walder Frey, the second son of the late Ser Ryman Frey, was the most violent and cruel, and the most valiant in the Frey family.

When the Frey family's axe-men stormed into the hall, he dropped his dagger, seized a heavy axe, and disemboweled several Northmen lords.

Black Walder recovered from his shock as the doors burst open, swinging his heavy axe to meet the Blackfish, when, with a whoosh, a gray shadow flashed like lightning, pouncing on Black Walder, biting his wrist, and with a snap, his wrist broke.

Ghost, the direwolf!

As Black Walder staggered and screamed, the Blackfish's longsword flashed, opening a huge gash in Black Walder's neck.

The Frey family's most valiant Black Walder dropped his heavy axe, fell to his knees, his head lolled to one side, and he collapsed, blood spurting from his neck!

The direwolf had already pounced on another Frey, biting his throat, and with a fearsome howl, Ghost raised his head, his mouth full of a large chunk of...dripping meat...

"Ghost!" Robb's voice rang out from a corner behind the high table, and with a flash of gray, Ghost pounced...

*

East City.

Behind the high city walls, the trebuchets roared, launching barrels of pitch and wildfire into the sky, crashing down on the three massive wedding tents. The three wedding tents burst into flames.

Five hundred Frey cavalry and five hundred Bolton cavalry formed ranks, the firelight glinting off their steel armor.

Inside the wedding tents, the jovial feast instantly turned into a battlefield... the Freys and Northmen, who had been urging each other to drink, turned on each other, drawing short swords and daggers, stabbing each other.

Instantly, the clash of swords, curses, the splintering of benches, screams, and shouts erupted within the three large tents...

Not far from the wedding tents was a small grove of trees, beyond which were the Northmen cavalry's military tents and fifty or sixty silk tents. In the grove, makeshift shelters had been erected, and thousands of Northmen's warhorses were tethered...

From the beginning of the wedding, Winterfell and White Harbor cavalrymen had slipped away one by one, returning to their military tents, donning their armor, fully arming themselves, quietly entering the grove, mounting their warhorses, and preparing for battle.

The Winterfell cavalry was led by Eddard Stark, while the White Harbor cavalry was led by Ser Wynton Manderly.

~

The shore, the wedding tents.

A wooden barrel fell from the sky, crashing down on the second burning wedding tent, bursting open, and the flames soared twice as high.

The Frey's trebuchets were launching barrels of wildfire, not stones.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The trebuchets fired one after another, launching oil, pitch, and wildfire barrels from the castle, turning the three huge wedding tents on the east bank into three huge fireballs, and the Northmen and Freys who were fighting fiercely inside the tents fled like ants from a disturbed nest...

Suddenly, the deep sound of the Northmen's horn rang out from the grove on the left, and a column of cavalry, bearing the Stark direwolf banner and the White Harbor trident-wielding mermaid banner, charged out, led by two generals, Wynton Manderly of White Harbor and the old Lord Eddard Stark of the North, followed by the lords, knights, free riders, and cavalry of White Harbor and Winterfell.

"Eddard Stark is here!" Five hundred cavalrymen shouted together, their voices like thunder, charging towards Roose Bolton's infantry who were besieging the Northmen cavalry.

"Bolton soldiers, cease! Roose Bolton has been captured alive, do you want to be wiped out?" Eddard Stark roared.

He rode at the head, charging first, his longsword slashing down, cleaving through a Bolton soldier's helmet, splitting his skull in two. His horse reared up, kicking another Bolton soldier away.

The Northmen cavalrymen, who were engaged in fierce battle, were both surprised and delighted, shouting, "Lord Eddard Stark has come!"

At the sound of the shout, the Northmen's morale soared!

A Northman soldier, freed by Eddard, swung his longsword, lopping off a Bolton soldier's head with a single blow, as if his strength had suddenly increased tenfold.

The Frey and Bolton infantry were all shocked and fearful, the sudden appearance of Eddard Stark like a god descending, awe-inspiring, his longsword flashing, invincible wherever he went, and the soldiers' fear of battle spread like a plague.

"Bolton soldiers, your treasonous crimes are forgiven, Northmen, fight alongside us," Eddard Stark shouted. Behind him, the Winterfell and White Harbor cavalry crashed into the battle lines, their longswords hacking, and Bolton and Frey soldiers fell one after another.

"Bolton soldiers, your crimes are forgiven, Northmen, stand shoulder to shoulder against the enemy!" Eddard roared like thunder, drowning out the roar of the river not far away.

The ones who were fighting a bitter infantry battle against the Bolton and Frey infantry were the Northmen's three thousand elite cavalry, their combat power greatly reduced without their warhorses, but after countless battles, they were able to hold off the Freys and Boltons.

Eddard Stark had a very high prestige in the hearts of the Northmen, and his repeated shouts had a huge effect, the Winterfell and White Harbor cavalry stopped attacking, only hacking at the Freys... the Northmen cavalry also stopped fighting, rushing back to the grove to seize their warhorses... the Bolton soldiers, after a very brief moment of looking at each other, turned their weapons on the Freys beside them...

In a short time, Eddard Stark's appearance caused the Bolton soldiers to defect, greatly boosted the Northmen cavalry's combat power and morale, and at this time, the Frey and Bolton cavalry, four abreast, had barely arrived...

"Northmen, cavalry and infantry alike, face the Freys!" Eddard roared!

With a point of his longsword, Eddard Stark charged out first, sidestepping a thrust from a long spear, his longsword rising, cutting down a cavalryman first...

Behind him, the Winterfell cavalry, White Harbor cavalry, and Bolton infantry, shouting, charged towards the Frey cavalry pressing down...

The gray-yellow torrent and the gray-white torrent collided violently, although Eddard Stark had only five hundred cavalry behind him—more cavalry were rushing back to the grove to mount their horses—the Northmen's morale was high, and every cavalryman was a veteran of hundreds of battles, and these five hundred cavalrymen who had survived many bloody battles were no ordinary soldiers, and Eddard Stark's appearance had doubled their combat power and courage, and the Frey cavalry collapsed in the first charge, and the Bolton cavalry mixed in with the Frey cavalry were terrified at the sight of Eddard Stark, and had no will to fight at all, and many cavalrymen did not even engage, reining in their horses, turning around, and fleeing...

The Frey cavalry was in chaos!

*

Inside the main castle hall of the West City.

The direwolf's sudden attack caused both sides in the melee to lose their focus for a heartbeat, but it was only for a moment—Riverland black-armored heavy cavalrymen charged into the hall, the cavalry all in heavy armor, their horses draped in black soft armor.

A black torrent of steel crashed into the West City hall, overturned tables, broken benches, the floor littered with cups and plates, red blood and red wine everywhere, corpses and limbs, all of which were quickly submerged by this black iron torrent.

A barrage of dense long spear attacks, the Frey warriors and Bolton soldiers fell one after another... the several enemies surrounding Robb, Daisy, and Tytos Blackwood had been frightened away by Ghost and fled, wanting to rush into the side door to escape, Robb, Daisy, and Tytos immediately counterattacked, pouncing on them, their short swords stabbing into the enemies' necks.

Ghost almost tore off the arm of the first Bolton soldier who rushed into the side door, the protective chainmail tearing under its fangs, and with the second bite, it severed the entire neck...

Black-armored heavy cavalrymen poured into the hall, long spears like dragons, longswords like snow, warhorses crushing forward, unstoppable.

A one-sided massacre!

Roslin Frey, her face and clothes splattered with blood, could no longer shout 'mercy'...

~

Outside the main castle hall, Riverland heavy cavalrymen were killing people in the streets, on the stone bridges, in the alleys, and under the towers, using bows and arrows from a distance, and long spears for surprise attacks, chasing down all the Freys they could see.

Roose Bolton, the meticulous planner of this 'Twins betrayal operation,' did not participate in the battle with a knife like a warrior, his fingers were long, white, and he was also fastidious, unwilling to dirty his dress uniform, the soft armor under the dress uniform, and these delicate hands, all had to be kept clean and tidy.

When the hall suddenly changed, Roose Bolton stood in a side door, watching coldly, until the Blackfish smashed open the hall door, and in the blink of an eye, black-armored heavy cavalry poured into the hall, chasing after his swordsmen and Frey heavy axemen in a swift and fierce assassination.

On the musicians' platform, only one person remained seated: Edwyn Frey, the heir apparent of the Twins, the fourth generation from Walder Frey.

After his crossbowmen had fired two rounds of crossbow bolts, they grabbed the longswords under their feet and jumped off the platform, plunging into the battlefield. He, who was known in the Frey family for his physical weakness, remained seated alone on the platform, indifferently overlooking the battle. It was not until the Blackfish led the black-armored heavy cavalry into the hall that his calm expression began to twist.

Outside the hall, firelight blazed, and the shadows of black-armored heavy cavalry flashed past the windows, and the screams of many Freys rang out from near and far, everywhere, regardless of men or women.

Edwyn Frey's face was pale, and he could not help but tremble, he looked at Roose Bolton, the Northmen were gone, the side door was empty.

Suddenly, a spear thrust into his body with a 'poof' sound, ending the massacre in the hall, the warhorses stopped, the spearmen raised their long spears, the knights raised their bloodstained longswords, and the hall fell silent, with only the snorting of horses.

Among the corpses lying on the ground, were Freys, Northmen, and Riverlanders.

Some Freys were still writhing and groaning on the ground, and several black-armored heavy cavalrymen thrust their long spears, adding another blow!

Robb picked up a bloodstained longsword, he had been stabbed in several places, and Daisy and Tytos were the same, their arms, waists, abdomens, and legs all had knife wounds.

The soft armor on the three of them was cracked in many places, and was already a mess.

Greatjon Umber was covered in wounds, a dozen Freys lying around him, the edge of his shortsword had rolled over, and after switching to a longsword, no one dared to approach. Each swing of his longsword left a terrible, huge wound on a Frey, one sword for each, he had cut down more than a dozen Freys alone, saving a large group of wounded comrades, but he had failed to save his own son, Littlejon.

Edmure pushed aside the corpses on his body, and sat up from among several Freys, his face pale, panting heavily, he had many knife wounds on his body, but his armor had blocked most of the damage, and although blood had stained his armor red, they were all minor injuries that were not too important.

Rickard Karstark, Gavon Glover, and several knights staggered out from the corners...

Robb held a longsword, looking at Edwyn Frey on the high table... this Frey who looked pale and physically weak... Ghost was at his feet, glaring at Edwyn Frey...

"Ghost!" Robb said.

With a flash of gray, Ghost ran up the high table and pounced on Edwyn Frey...

*

On the east bank, Eddard Stark and Wynton Manderly led only five hundred Winterfell and White Harbor cavalrymen, and with one charge, they pierced through the Frey cavalry formation, killing several Frey generals in succession, and more Northmen cavalrymen rode over from the grove, joining the battle. The Bolton infantry moved forward together, their long spears piercing warhorses, and the Frey cavalry fell one after another...

The battle situation quickly reversed, the Northmen shouted 'Long live Eddard Stark,' not afraid of the barrels of wildfire falling from the sky, desperately chasing and killing the Freys. The Frey cavalry and infantry collapsed together, fleeing for their lives. The cavalrymen were fast, wading through waist-deep water and running onto the drawbridge, fleeing back into the city.

Behind them, were the elite Northmen cavalry and Bolton infantry shouting 'Long live Eddard Stark' and charging and killing...

Clack clack clack! Clack clack clack!

The iron gate at the city gate was slowly, slowly falling... and on the drawbridge, in the waist-deep water on the shore, and on the farther shore, were Frey's defeated soldiers fleeing everywhere...

Thanks to [When the Sunshine Meets Our Time] for the reward, thank you, handshake!