As the supreme commander of the army, Aegor had issued strict instructions early on, demanding that officers at all levels restrain their subordinates and prohibit any form or degree of disturbance or harm toward the populace.

For armies of this era, that was an unusually high standard. But with the Gift army still relatively small and easy to manage, and with Aegor’s reputation for both prestige and ruthlessness established through legends, nicknames, and harsh methods, he was confident he could enforce strict discipline and show the North that this so-called “barbarian army” was a different breed.

Unfortunately, reality proved otherwise. When the Gift army marched at extreme speed for several days through snow and wind and finally arrived outside Winterfell a night ahead of schedule, the nearby manors, settlements, and even the Winter Town clustered outside the castle had already been evacuated. Not even a mouse could be found. Even if Aegor had permitted or ordered plundering, there would have been no one to plunder.

It had to be admitted that although the Young Wolf was lacking in macro strategy, when it came to protecting his people, he was truly a qualified Lord.

While they missed the opportunity to prove their discipline by “not taking a single needle or thread,” the empty Winter Town required only a makeshift fence to become a perfect temporary camp. And with no civilians present, the army would not have to expend effort identifying or guarding against spies and assassins during the siege.

The Gift army accepted this prize handed to them without a fight. While the soldiers took control of the abandoned Winter Town and systematically turned it into a defensible base, Aegor instructed the communications division to release carrier ravens, issuing an official “military control order” to the North in the name of the Queen’s subordinate. From now until the war to unify the Seven Kingdoms was complete, any troop movement outside towns and castles without permission would be deemed rebellious and considered enemies of Queen Daenerys and the Night’s Watch. Any consequences would be borne by the offenders themselves.

After stating the hard truths and releasing this arrogant declaration, he then sent word to Winterfell, requesting negotiations with Robb Stark.

Yes, negotiations, not siege.

While the Gift army’s rapid march south gave the impression of a surprise attack meant to catch the North off guard, attacking Winterfell had never been Aegor’s first choice. The real purpose behind all the elaborate preparation for this campaign was to paralyze the North, disrupting their ability to rally and coordinate a full-scale defense. He wanted to force them into disarray, causing mistakes that he could exploit to secure small, quick victories.

Steel and blood knew no mercy, and the newly introduced powder weapons had not yet reached the level where they could decide battles singlehandedly. The Northern army had always been known for its ferocity and grit. If they had received advance notice of the Gift army’s plans and had time to rally tens of thousands to block the advance, the scale and intensity of the battle would spiral beyond control. Even with a win, losses would be heavy.

Aegor’s army was strong, but not yet strong enough to absorb that kind of attrition. More importantly, if too many Northern soldiers and nobles were killed or wounded in a chaotic war, turning what could be settled through negotiation into a blood feud, then the Gift army would be dragged into a brutal campaign across the North. That outcome would completely derail his long-term strategy.

Compared to direct siege, his real intention was to surround a point and strike at reinforcements. By pretending to attack Winterfell and drawing Stark’s bannermen into the field, he could then find opportunities to strike them down one by one. In small, contained battles, he could showcase the Gift army’s strength and overwhelming weapon superiority while keeping casualties manageable. It would preserve his own forces and avoid building up unnecessary hatred. Two birds with one stone.

The North was war-weary. Once he won a few battles, these so-called “tough men” would realize the Gift army was even tougher. When they saw that the Night’s Watch southern campaign could not be stopped, Aegor’s bargaining power would rise sharply. With well-prepared rhetoric and a mix of threats and promises, forcing Robb into concessions or even into aligning with the Queen’s faction would no longer be a dream.

Putting aside all strategic considerations, deep down Aegor knew that this decision was not the one that maximized his interests. Preserving House Stark was, in part, a personal choice. It didn’t fit the ruthless image he had tried so hard to build. But he was no longer the powerless Night’s Watch ranger who had first entered this world. At this moment, he believed that although he had not yet reached the point where he could do whatever he pleased, he had earned a small degree of freedom.

Not harming his little apprentice and her family was his own small act of willfulness.

However, what surprised Aegor slightly was that before his messenger had even set off to deliver the negotiation terms, Winterfell had already sent someone out.

After being disarmed, Ser Rodrik Cassel was escorted by two non-commissioned officers to the Gift army’s temporary command post. It had originally been a guesthouse in Winter Town, used to host travelers who weren’t invited into Winterfell. Because it had the most complete facilities and the largest rooms, Aegor had requisitioned it.

When the old knight walked in alone, the room was already lined with black-cloaked guards and generals.

“Ser Rodrik, it has been many days. You look as strong as ever, and that pleases me greatly.”

“I’m disappointed you weren’t killed by the White Walkers, ‘Chameleon’ Aegor!” the old knight roared, glaring at the black-clad men around him. “And all of you, following such a two-faced scoundrel for fame and profit, do you feel no shame?”

The officers and guards remained stone-faced, but Aegor, who should have been the calmest of them all, was momentarily stunned.

Chameleon?

It took him several seconds to realize why the nickname sounded familiar. It had originally belonged to Theon Greyjoy. But in this timeline, Theon’s father had rebelled before he returned home, and Robb Stark, out of brotherhood, had not executed him, instead sending him to take the black. Theon had gone on to fight in the war against the dead and died a hero. He had never gotten the chance to betray House Stark. Now, it was Aegor attacking Winterfell, and naturally, the title had passed to him.

Coincidence, or fate?

Aegor wasn’t angered by the insult. Instead, a playful smile spread across his face. But to Ser Rodrik, that smile only looked like mockery and arrogance. Fury rose in his eyes and a flush crept beneath his white beard. He spat onto the stone floor of the inn.

“Still have the nerve to laugh? The Starks treated you like a friend. Treated you well. How could you do this?”

“I have always worn black. How can you speak of changing colors?” Aegor replied calmly. “Ser Rodrik, I beg you to understand. The Night’s Watch serves the realm, not House Stark. Right now, Daenerys Targaryen is the best hope for Westeros. My pledge to fight for her is not betrayal, but a fulfillment of my oath. This black cloak is still pure.”

He set aside his philosophical musings and assumed a righteous tone. After all, when it came to twisting logic and claiming the moral high ground, Aegor, with his years of internet experience in his past life, feared no one.

“But you. You planned to attack the Queen while I was still on expedition beyond the Wall. You staged a coup in the Gift, trying to bar my soldiers from returning to Senai. You plotted to expel the very warriors who had shed blood fighting the White Walkers to protect the realm. Is that how the North treats friends and saviors? Is that what you call treating me well? I have never heard such shamelessness.”

“Wh-What… Lord Robb never had such vile intentions! Where did you hear that from?”

Nowhere. He made it up.

The inflammatory rumors now spreading through the Gift had been crafted and released by Aegor himself, precisely to stir resentment and justify the march south. But he would never admit that publicly. On the contrary, the role he needed to play now was that of a man driven by righteous anger, misled by rumors.

The Stark family was ruled more by emotion than logic. If he admitted that everything was a calculated, premeditated strategy, a setup that would have occurred no matter what, then all negotiations would collapse. House Stark would defend Winterfell to the last man and refuse all terms.

But if he created the illusion that this campaign was a mistake born from misinformation, and that he only sought answers and accountability, it could soften the hostility. Only then would real negotiation be possible.

“So you deny the rumors?” Aegor sneered. “Well, I have no proof they’re true. Perhaps they are indeed lies, planted by some villain to divide us. There’s a simple way to clear things up. Have my good friend Robb Stark come speak to me directly. Let him explain in person, instead of sending a messenger.”

“You…” Ser Rodrik was stunned by this reversal. He stammered, unable to form a coherent reply. His face turned red as he barked, “What nonsense! If Lord Robb were to leave the castle and meet you in person, how could he return alive? Do you take me for a fool?”

How dull. Bullying such an honest old knight with words brought Aegor no pleasure. He quickly grew bored.

“Enough, Ser Rodrik. I assume Robb sent you here with a message, not to argue. Speak. What did he want you to tell me?”

The old knight forced down his anger and recalled his purpose. “Lord Robb’s terms are simple and generous. You are to publicly resign as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, lead your troops back to the Gift, and disband them. In return, Stark will guarantee that you and the Queen you serve can safely leave the North.”

On paper, the North held overwhelming advantages in strength and resources. If any other Lord Commander had raised a rebel army, these terms would be considered merciful beyond reason. Aegor smiled and nodded without sarcasm.

“Understood. Please convey my own terms to Robb. Open the castle gates, lay down your arms, declare Daenerys Targaryen the only rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and swear fealty to her. In return, I guarantee that House Stark will retain its position as the rightful rulers of the North, under the new Targaryen dynasty.”

“Pfft.” Ser Rodrik was so angry he laughed. “Aegor, I thought you were a thankless snake. Now I see you’re mad. For the sake of our past acquaintance, I advise you, find a healer and have your head examined. If no one nearby is up to the task, I can bring Maester Luwin next time.”

“I appreciate the concern. But I hope next time we meet, you bring Robb Stark’s wise decision, not another irrelevant person.”

Aegor wasn’t surprised by the reaction. He shrugged, smiled, and waved a hand, unwilling to waste more time.

“Escort Ser Rodrik back. All units, continue establishing the camp as planned. Deploy scouts and monitor all movement around Winterfell.”

“Yes, Lord!”

The generals saluted and left. The old knight opened his mouth to speak again, but the soldiers had already taken him by the arms and led him out.

As Aegor watched his subordinates and the envoy leave, a small smile returned to his lips. Winterfell had sent someone to negotiate first. It was unexpected, but not unreasonable. Robb Stark, faced with the Gift army’s momentum, lacked confidence in the hasty defenses of his castle. He was likely trying to stall for time with back-and-forth diplomacy, waiting for reinforcements from his bannermen.

A clever move. But he would never guess that his reinforcements were Aegor’s true target from the very beginning.

(To be continued.)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep