1 Heading North

The line slowly crawled north along King's Road.

Joffrey's gaze swept over the army that stretched for dozens of miles.

The infantry were positioned at the front and rear, the cavalry guarded the flanks, and the supply wagons were sandwiched in the middle.

It was a very traditional marching formation, but they managed to create a unique and impressive style.

Like a maggot in Changshan.

Forget about striking at the head and then the tail.

The vanguard had already disappeared behind the distant hills, while the rearguard was still packing up the last batch of supplies at the camp.

If they were attacked, everyone in front would probably be killed, and no one behind would notice.

Even so, the counts were quite satisfied and would often boast to Joffrey about it.

"Your Highness is truly a master of military command."

The expressions on their faces when they said this suggested that they genuinely believed they were leading a rare elite force.

Joffrey just nodded and smiled, too lazy to point it out.

After all, the team is much more complete now than when they first set off.

The campsites were no longer set up haphazardly, and the smoke from the cooking fires rose in an orderly fashion.

During the march, each family advanced in sequence, no longer fighting and grabbing as before.

Occasionally, some members will fall behind, and there are people specifically responsible for taking them in.

Several of the disciplinary offenders were even tied to the back of the supply wagon, dragged around during the day, and then paraded through the night.

"Your Highness!"

A familiar coughing sound came from the front of the procession, and an old horse turned back.

"Lord Gails," Joffrey slowed his horse, "Is there something you need?"

"Ahem...it's nothing serious." Gales said with a smile. "I just came to ask if there's anything I can do for Your Highness today?"

"How did things go with the striker situation?"

"It's OK, it's OK."

Joffrey simply nodded.

The old man would often hang around him every few days.

Since the last time he dealt with his adopted son, instead of hiding, he has become even more ruthless.

Offering favors is simply a way to reassure someone.

Joffrey understood.

Rossby is too close to King's Landing, so Gails is most sensitive to the winds blowing in the court.

He feared that he, as a relatively weak earl, would suffer in the power struggle and end up dead and his clan wiped out.

Since Joffrey had struck a blow, he naturally had to offer a reward.

Seeing that they were willing to greet him with a smile, he handed over the honorable striker position to him.

Just then, Gers was about to say something more when he was interrupted by a commotion behind him.

Joffrey turned around and saw several vendors pushing carts trying to blend into the middle of the procession.

Several soldiers stopped them.

After a brief argument, the vendor slipped some things into his hand, and he was eventually let in.

Joffrey looked away without saying anything.

It's not that we don't want to manage it, it's that we simply can't stop it.

These people had long been part of this army.

This is the difference between conscripts and standing troops.

Since Joffrey didn't have to pay for the daily maintenance at all, everyone was fighting the war on their own.

Knights provided their own equipment and horses, lords were responsible for the food and provisions of their subordinates, and commanders were only responsible for overall planning and deployment.

A knight was always accompanied by at least a groom and a squire, and a lord who wanted to show off would also bring a tailor and a cook.

Blacksmiths, leatherworkers, carpenters, and bow makers—all sorts of craftsmen, with their families, carried their tools to provide services to the soldiers.

The coachman drove the wagons loaded with grain and fodder, the groom led the spare warhorses, and there were porters specifically responsible for carrying miscellaneous tasks.

There were stalls selling trinkets, snacks, and tents offering special services.

As soon as the army pauses for a moment, they spring up from the ground like mushrooms after the rain.

It was said to be 6,000 soldiers, but the number of people in the camp had long exceeded 10,000.

All he could do was drive these people of unknown origin to the outskirts.

That's it.

Some soldiers patted their chests and said that it was his son who polished his boots and did some small business on the side.

He has no way, nor is it necessary, to find out.

Joffrey's uncle, who advocated prohibition, actually kept the army under strict control.

As a result, neither the soldiers nor the civilians liked him.

With such a precedent to follow, Joffrey can't afford to emulate it.

"Your Highness."

Barristan rode closer, pointing north.

"We'll reach Staghorn Castle in two more days."

"The people of Crab Claw Peninsula are waiting there."

Joffrey frowned.

It was a poor, desolate, and barren place, covered with swamps, hills, and forests, and the land was also home to countless smugglers' caves.

"Sir, have you been there?"

Barristan shook his head.

"The residents there are very closed-minded and xenophobic, and they are constantly fighting amongst themselves, so nobody wants to go there."

"Moreover, since becoming a member of the Kingsguard, I have basically never left King's Landing."

"Whenever he went out, it was either to accompany the king to a martial arts tournament or to lead troops into battle on orders."

"Last time I..."

He shut his mouth.

Joffrey was already used to it and didn't ask any further questions.

When these people reminisce, they tend to touch on sensitive topics.

The last time Old Ba personally led troops was during the War of the Usurper, when he was assigned by the Mad King to gather the remnants of his forces.

Then they met up with Rhaegar, and were utterly destroyed by Robert at the Trident River.

But these old stories still can't be avoided.

"It is said that the inhabitants of the Crab Claw Peninsula have the blood of their ancestors flowing in their veins, and they are proud of it."

"After the war of conquest, each of their families could be considered a model subject of the Targaryens."

"Logically speaking, they shouldn't be sending troops so eagerly," Joffrey asked, voicing his thoughts.

Six small families, plus a bunch of minor barons, managed to gather more than four thousand people and arrived at Sterling Hill ahead of time to wait for him.

This enthusiasm was a bit too much; he genuinely suspected that these people had ulterior motives.

But Barristan couldn't answer his question either.

The group continued north.

Occasionally, when passing through a village, the villagers would stand at a distance by the roadside, looking on with curiosity.

At this point, the marching soldiers would straighten their backs, trying to make themselves look more like they were in charge.

Some people even sneaked out of the group to say a few words to family members they happened to meet, and then ran back satisfied.

Joffrey sat on his horse, utterly bored.

My thoughts began to drift away.

If we really want to trace it back, Barristan and he could be related in some way.

The girl Old Barnes once had a crush on, Ashara Dane, jumped off a cliff for Ed.

And many people are saying that Jon Snow, Eddard's bastard son, was born to Lady Ashara.

Jon is also Sansa's brother.

and so.

Barristan is the rival of Joffrey's fiancée's half-brother, the woman who is suspected to be his mother, and the woman who is suspected to be his lover.

They were a truly unfortunate couple...

After a long and arduous journey, the Deer Antler Castle finally came into view.

And the four thousand soldiers on the Crab Claw Peninsula.

There were quite a few archers, half of them carrying hunting bows of varying lengths on their backs or slung over their shoulders, but not many of them seemed to be carrying arrows.

Most people wore coarse cloth clothes covered in patches, and a few with shoes had their toes showing, while holding a harpoon in their hands.

Standing there, they looked like a group of refugees fleeing famine.

"What are these things?" the hound muttered.

At this moment, even the most slovenly soldiers of the royal guard proudly raised their chests.

Joffrey reined in his horse, waiting for the leader to come out and hand over the reins.

But the worst-case scenario still happened.

The four thousand crab people charged towards them with howls.