A person who has no sense of reverence in their heart is not brave, they are foolish.
In a dark and bloody world, foolish people don't live long, and no foolish person ever has a good end.
Gregor, however, held a deep respect for life and the rules; he was no longer the same Gregor as before.
The young knight, Alva Serrett, had unexpectedly died.
His captain, however, held Julie and his cavalryman, Thomasson, demanding an exchange for Alva.
Hundreds of soldiers from the garrison had drawn their swords.
They feared Gregor, but they were many in number.
Gregor was confident he could break through the encirclement on his own. After going through withdrawal and resting for an entire day, his energy had been mostly restored. But Thomasson, Julie, and the others, including Maester Harry and his four loyal subordinates, were in grave danger. Most of them would likely not survive.
Gregor's original plan had been to capture Alva Serrett, bring him down the mountain, and go to Silverhill, where they would draw out Lord Tyger Serrett. Then, they would capture the Lord, take him to Clegane Keep, and negotiate a hefty ransom.
This was the common way nobles in the Seven Kingdoms resolved issues: kidnap and ransom.
There were rarely any murders between nobles.
The plan was perfect: rescue Julie and secure a large sum of gold dragons, a win-win.
But who would have known that the young hero, the renowned archer Alva Serrett, would be so fragile? He had been so frightened that he lost control of his bodily functions and died swiftly.
Gregor glanced at Maester Harry.
Harry nodded and whispered, "Alva was scared to death by the Lord."
Gregor froze for a moment.
He thought back to the stories he had read before crossing over, about the Three Kingdoms in the ancient Chinese civilization, where Sun Ce, the "Little Tyrant." killed a general by squeezing his elbow on the battlefield, or killed another with a drink. Those stories, it seemed, were true.
Gregor himself hadn't used much force. His roar, his swing of the great sword, had simply terrified Alva Serrett to death.
Now, they were demanding an exchange of hostages. What should he do?
Gregor could never allow himself to return as a powerless leader.
It was very difficult to cultivate and find truly loyal subordinates who had no personal interests.
"What is your name?" Gregor asked the captain in a cold tone, reminiscent of the ice of winter.
"…I'm Allen Serrett…" the captain said, pointing at Thomasson's sword with a small motion.
It was a small detail, but the leader was afraid.
Allen Serrett, a branch of the Serrett family.
"Allen, you have two choices. Either you kill Julie and my cavalryman, or you give them to me, and I'll take them away. I'll give you ten breaths of time. Otherwise, I'll kill Alva first, then kill you." Gregor said flatly.
Gregor was the type who could say it and do it.
Maester Harry spoke up, "Allen, do you want to kill Alva and provoke a feud between the Clegane family and the Serrett family?"
This was a clever line.
As long as Allen didn't release the hostages, Alva would be his doing.
The branch Serrett family relied on the main Serrett family for their livelihood.
"Three breaths have passed." the voice from Mark chuckled.
"Five breaths now!" Raff the Sweetling laughed.
Dunsen's long sword was at Alva's throat, his hand grabbing Alva's brown hair. "Seven breaths, Lord Allen."
"Ten breaths are up, kill Alva." Gregor said calmly.
"Yes, milord!" Dunsen's voice was eager as he licked his tongue.
Gregor's subordinates were just as notorious as he was.
"Alright, I'll let you go down the mountain." Allen Serrett shouted.
His back was drenched in cold sweat, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
He lowered his sword, and the swords aimed at the cavalryman and the girl also lowered.The tense atmosphere instantly relaxed.
This was just a garrison camp at the mine. A few dozen miles away, there was another garrison camp. Several hundred swords couldn't stop Gregor, but they could stop his soldiers.
Thomasson, holding Julie, quickly walked forward.
"Allen, are these the criminals who kidnapped my daughter?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Have they confessed?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Polliver, take them away."
Five soldiers were brought forward, and without Gregor saying a word, they knelt down, begging for mercy, claiming they were willing to serve Gregor, work as servants, soldiers, or slaves, they were willing to do anything.
Gregor glanced at the girl.
In the civilization he had come from, a girl like her would have been considered an "innocent maiden." An innocent, inexperienced girl.
"Julie…"
The girl broke free from Thomasson's embrace. She had already learned everything from his whispered words. She drew the short sword from Thomasson's waist and faced Gregor.
"Father, may I deal with the beasts who harmed me?"
Gregor was slightly surprised. The girl's words and courage took him by surprise.
A girl like her, kidnapped by strong soldiers and brought to the mountain, would have gone through terrible experiences, and Gregor knew all too well what that meant. Generally, such girls would be broken, their will to live shattered. They wouldn't feel hatred, only fer, a fear worse than death.
Gregor nodded.
Under the gaze of hundreds of bright, shining eyes, the girl walked up to the five criminals who were kneeling. She ordered them all to stand up, and had Allen's soldiers grab them.
This detail made Gregor feel that the girl was different from the rest.
Perhaps the people in this world had different genetic structures, where both men and women were more martial and stronger.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you." Julie said through gritted teeth.
A young girl speaking through clenched teeth seemed absurd and unreal.
But no one laughed.
Julie's short sword slashed through the first man's trousers in one swift motion. A scream of pain echoed.
Gregor himself felt a chill down his spine.
Soon, five bodies were sprawled on the ground, writhing and howling in pain.
Julie, holding the short sword, walked up to the stunned Alva, staring at him in silence. "Alva, it was you who ordered my capture. I'll leave you one cut."
...
On the Gold Road, Maester Harry spoke cautiously: "My Lord, I suggest we return to Clegane Castle."
Gregor only grunted, and Harry dared not speak further.
Raff the Sweetling and the deceased Alva rode together, holding Alva's body to keep it from falling.
In the distance, Allen Serrett and more than ten family guards slowly followed.
Gregor and his group moved along the Gold Road at a steady pace, heading for Silverhill.
At dawn, the group of nine people and ten horses arrived at the base of Silverhill.
As the gate of the Westerland, Silverhill was magnificently built. Its towering stone walls, flanked by mountains and rivers, were nearly impossible to scale.
"Tyger Serrett, I've brought you back your knight, Alva Serrett." Gregor shouted, his voice carrying.
From the Silverhill, countless birds and small beasts scattered. Birds took flight, and small beasts hid.
Soon, the garrison appeared atop the walls.
The Silverhill garrison was made up entirely of Serrett family soldiers, far more loyal and battle-hardened than the mine garrison.
Maester Harry's face turned ashen, his eyes furtively glancing at the others. Apart from Gregor's four loyal subordinates, who seemed unconcerned, Thomasson also clenched his fists, nervously. What surprised Harry even more was that Julie, her hands covered in blood, was eerily calm. When their eyes met, Harry inexplicably felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
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