Chapter 245

Falling snow shrouded the horizon, bursting out a sheet of blood-red light; warhorses neighed, resisting as they charged across the unfamiliar snow.

The snow was warm, only revealing a hint of chill as it melted on her face. She suspected that part of this snow consisted of the body heat of the soldiers taken for sacrifice.

Evil sorcery and magic—any northerner knows this snow is not normal.

This was the work of the Red Robe Monks—Lu Si Budun was overjoyed, he wrote the Red Robe Monks' message in the letter he sent, without concealment, treating the lives of many northern captives as the 'retribution' for the Red Robe Monks losing their eyes, a laughable reason.

Shouldn't the Red Robe Monks be predicting their own safety each day? Don't assume she knows nothing about this active religious organization on the Eastern Continent; she at least knows this.

The Red Robe Monks did not anticipate a strike from the Old Gods' ravens or whatever the Green Seer had in the illusion. Is this retaliation from the Old Gods, or...?

She couldn't understand. But since the Red Robe Monks didn't expect to be injured, it was also natural that they couldn't know she would tonight…… it was he who first disturbed the normal order—if this is a warning from the Old Gods to her—then he also couldn't see that he himself would face danger.

Perhaps the Red Robe Monks' murmuring during sacrifice is no different from Sha Sha's childish lament when she discarded her ears.

The wind and snow raged, sweeping past her cheek, a faint fishy smell, plus a hint of burnt stench; she could not tell whether this burnt odor was the smell she smelled when Sha Sha burned her ears, or whether it was inherent in the wind and snow.

Maomao Dog couldn't give her an answer. It wasn't paying attention to the smell of the wind and snow; at this moment, it firmly locked onto the Bolton soldier who had discarded his ears.

With Maomao Dog's help, she could almost hear the soldiers' panting and the warhorses' neighing.

Mo Er

"You sent up offerings, how could you not leave on your own?" She spurred her horse to catch up, cutting down the lagging Bolton soldier from his mount. Another cavalryman's warhorse smelled the bloodiness, startled, reared up, and its rider panicked, falling off and crashing heavily into the snow.

The last remaining soldier fled on horseback, but a dark shadow swept past; after a few cries, the snowfield returned to silence. Riding on her horse, she saw blood spattering across the snow. The smell of blood grew stronger.

"I am an envoy between the two armies; you shouldn't kill me." The fallen soldier lay on his back in the snow, continually crawling backward as Mei Yi advanced. His leg was already injured.

Huo Wu De Bao

"Wo Dun, Wo Dun Mo'er." He looked at Mei Yi in surprise, "We are Bolton's envoys; you shouldn't kill us."

"It seems you know who I am." Mei Yi felt passion trembling; perhaps when it drank Bolton's fresh blood, it would outright scream. "The two dead would agree with your opinion, but I cannot."

Ha Man

Du Ao

"The passphrase to enter Bolton's camp. You understand my meaning." Mei Yi dismounted, stepping on his broken right leg, "I also need the passphrases from yesterday, the day before, and even earlier days, oh, and also for entering the camp and the city. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

Wolf Woman

"This is not the passphrase." She increased the pressure with her foot, "Besides, this is my business; if you lie, I will hear it. I tell you, my memory is good; you had best speak in order correctly, I will spot-check later—if you get it right every time, I will spare your life; if you slip once, you are doomed."

He was still hesitating.

"The she-wolf's reputation is known throughout the world."

"Endless, the golden male lion, and the wrath of righteousness (RighteousinWrath)" he panted, saying, "They were the day before yesterday, yesterday, and today respectively. Anything earlier is gone—I wasn't in enemy territory then. The password for entering the camp is 'Wolf's Head'; House Tyrell should have other mottos…… Upon entering the city it's 'Victory is assured.'"

There was nothing worth doubting; she put on the faceless man's skin in front of the wounded soldier before her eyes.

When she trudged through the deep snow to reach Bolton's great camp, the sky had already grown completely dark; the iceplain running wolf banner atop Hornwood Keep had been lowered, and in its place hung the double banner of the crowned stag and the roaring lion.

She held aloft the small banners of Bolton and House Moll, passed through the military encampment before the city, waited a long while by the moat before the castle, and only then did the moat's drawbridge slowly lower.

Is this an adventure?

Leaving her own army camp, she felt her spirit extraordinarily lively, extraordinarily exhilarated; amid the exhilaration she also felt extraordinarily calm and detached. She felt as if she had returned to the pyramids of Maylin, to the sea and the vast foreign city‑states. She sensed that only at such moments could she truly become earnest, unleash her power, and only then did life feel vivid. She thought she was too good at doing this.

"Lord Bolton dislikes talkativeness; speak less after entering the city," the guard who opened the gate for her said thoughtfully.

"Lord Bolton merely dislikes fools, lad." She laughed mockingly as she rode on horseback through the barbican she had passed years ago, under the torchlight, drawing the attention of the garrison soldiers in the courtyard, but no one stopped her.

After entering the main keep, she tossed the warhorse's reins casually to the guard standing nearby.

"Who the hell are you?" the guard demanded.

"Young master Phelps of House Moll." She flung a silver coin onto his shoulder, "Please, help me take the horse to a suitable place and give it good fodder."

The guard reached out to take the silver coin, then awkwardly pulled the reins over.

She laughed again as she walked away, hearing the guard mutter resentfully in dissatisfaction.

He ought to be dissatisfied, for from afar the lord's hall rang with celebratory clamor, but none of it concerned them.

At the corner she slipped off the Moll family coat she was wearing and headed toward the tower on the right side of the main keep.

Moving left and right, she seemed to enter a place devoid of people—something only she could manage. Hornwood's courtyard halls and the closely packed houses and towers were practically born as the ideal battlefield for the agile; she felt she could almost dodge every passerby and patrolling guard, while cats in the shadows and ravens on the heart‑tree could at any moment lend her aid.

Perhaps it would be better to go straight and kill Roose Bolton…… She realized she could not entirely dismiss that thought.

If the opportunity were suitable.

Alas, she could not approach him as a true faceless man would.

She knew the purpose of her coming.

She climbed from the shadows onto the deserted tower. Bloodstains still lingered on its ladder, along with piles of refuse, broken armor, and shattered weapons. She could almost see Hornwood's soldiers being slain here and then dragged away.

She ascended the tower.

Heavy snow was drifting in through the broken stained‑glass opening, forming a white arc‑shaped mound on the fractured wooden beam on the floor, while the snow that had settled on the ground had partly melted into water, flowing down the passageway, making the whole tower look gloomy and damp.

She hoped to feel the cold, but all the snow offered was a faint fishy smell and a burnt odor.

The tower's heavy second level connected via a passageway to the drill ground's corridor; from here she could at least avoid most of the coming and going soldiers.

At that moment, the red‑robed monk was praying by a fire on the drill field, with many soldiers following behind him, imitating his manner.

She thought that if she simply charged down, she could likely kill the red‑robed monk outright, but whether she could then escape the castle was uncertain; she would not risk her life for a monk.

She carefully observed the nearby buildings, but no matter how she looked she could not find among the many houses the one that might belong to the red‑robed monk. When she projected her awareness into a cat hiding in a corner, heavy footsteps and panting came from the corridor outside, and she had no choice but to withdraw her awareness.

At that moment the cat let out a sharp cry of terror, leapt from the corridor onto the snow‑covered gargoyle, jumped down into the garden, and vanished into the darkness.

She turned invisible, then saw two soldiers carrying four buckets of hot water walking toward her.

"I envy Haman as well," one soldier said, walking and flashing an excited smile, "I'd have a chance to give Lady Hornwood a bath. Damn, if I were…"

"Watch your tongue! Just think it in your heart!" the other soldier said, obviously more cautious.

"Here it's just you and me, Duoro? Oh, plus there's a red‑robed monk down below playing at mysticism, though he can't hear us, and that monk probably has no interest in women…… Damn, aren't you interested in being Earl of Hornwood for a turn?" He panted, set the buckets down beside him to rest a moment, "Damn it, you saw that Mandel woman, didn't you? I heard her age…"

"I don't like whiny women. She's been crying all day."

"Isn't this exactly when a real man should offer comfort?"

"This place isn't for two people." Meiyilu smiled, stepping out from the shadows, "Besides, it's not your turn to comfort anyone—you should really learn from Du Ao."

"Who the hell are you?" he stared at her, startled.

"I'm the one who can get your head chopped off just by casually spreading your bastard words below. Hurry up and go dump the bathwater! Bastard, Lord Bodun doesn't like talkative people—you'd better watch yourself."

They looked at him doubtfully, then picked up the bathwater and walked along the snow-covered corridor toward the tower on the other side.

The windows of that tower only had a faint light.

She actually forgot Lady Mandele.

She watched the mysterious red-robed monk praying on the drill ground, then glanced at the tower over there.

When she finally decided to follow the two toward Lady Mandele, she suddenly felt something was off. So she leaned on the corridor's railing and looked out at the sky.

The snow had stopped falling; the original blood-red hue had turned into heavy dark clouds. Or perhaps, one or two flashes of lightning appeared from within the dark clouds, and only after a long while did the rumbling thunder follow.

At that moment, the red-robed monk also stopped praying, standing still and looking up in confusion.

Soldiers from elsewhere also began to emerge, gathering on the drill ground, all looking up.

Lightning churned within the dark clouds; in its light she could almost see the rolling thick clouds, surrounded by dense gray cloud masses, as if it were the prelude to a summer storm—even the wind that picked up began to feel strange.

The red-robed monk now paced incredulously around the fire on the drill ground, gazing upward.

Rain began to drip down.

Meiyi just wanted to burst out laughing; for the first time she felt a twinge of regret for having intruded into the castle.

She turned, in a corner of the house, tore off the face mask, took off the hated hard armor, folded her cloak, lit a dry torch, and casually tossed it toward the other wooden fort.

Then she turned back and followed the two fools carrying the hot water buckets.

Not long after, she heard the shouts of chaos.

Wind and rain raged outside; the fire in the wooden fort blazed like an ignited dragon, crackling and spreading in all directions.

She strode purposefully toward Lady Huowude's residence, drawing forth her passion amid the guards' doubtful gazes.

Her sword was fast enough that they didn't even get a chance to cry out.

She kicked the door open, and before the two water‑carrying fools could react, she stabbed one to death and hacked the other.

At that moment a fair‑skinned man lifted the curtain from the inner room and stepped outside, seeing the two thrown into the bath tub, he cried out in shock.

She hadn't expected that cry.

"Haman?" she asked. The man hesitated, then nodded.

"Oh, milady, you don't need a bath today." Meiyi smiled at the eunuch.

"And Lord Bodun?"

"Lord Bodun can wash himself. It's pouring outside." She thrust her sword into Pangzi's belly, using his body to barge into the inner room, where she saw Lady Huowude trembling with fear.

"Good lady, please don't scream."

"You, you are...?"

Lady Huowude was older and more worn than when they first met, yet she still bore considerable grace; among the northern noblewomen, she was undoubtedly the most splendid.

"We've met before in this castle, lady—I am Meiyisitake, oh, back then I was still called Meiyixueno."

"You've breached the city?" she exclaimed with a look of wild joy.

"Only me." She cut off her further questions, "Lady, change into men's clothes—I have to get you out fighting!"

"Where would I find men's clothes here?"

"Isn't it right in my hand?" She set down the clothes, turned, and walked toward the door.

She dragged the two dead guards into the room, tossed them into the bath tub, and after tidying up, Lady Huowude managed to squeeze into her leather armor.

Meiyi waited for her to put on the riding pants, then immediately placed the soldier's helmet on her head, lowered the visor, and draped the cloak over her. Feeling the lady tremble, she had to take her hand to calm her.

"Although the castle is heavily guarded, there are loopholes everywhere—stick close to me, don't worry, we'll sneak out slowly."

She felt she was going crazy, not knowing why she was doing this. Beside her, Lady Huowude probably felt the same.

"I've always dismissed the tale of Sir Balistans rescuing people from the enemy stronghold as rumor, but now I must reconsider." Lady Huowude, after a moment of surprise, struggled to control her emotions and offered praise.

"That old man? I could beat him at fourteen; now even three of him aren't a match for me." She said nonchalantly, hoping to give the lady more confidence.

Having said that, she took the lady's hand, slipped silently out of the room, hid in the dark attic alley, and began to ponder how to leave the castle safely.

"Do you still remember Huowude's library tower? As long as we get there, we can leave the city safely."

"A secret passage?" Meiyi exclaimed in delight, then realized: every castle has its strange little quirks.