Chapter 248

"You must be wondering why I abandoned the most viable method to attack Winterfell and instead chose to duel the Wolf Girl here." After all the officers left, the Duke kept him alone.

"My lord, at present the battle, the timing is unsuitable; the objective of the battle should be Winterfell, not the Wolf Girl." Perhaps, "She is a woman; once Winterfell falls, her position will be precarious. In short, if we seize Winterfell we can command the western lords, and then we can gradually eliminate the Wolf Girl until we recover the entire North."

"How many times have we taken Winterfell?" the Duke asked faintly after a silence.

He immediately felt pushed into a corner; this really is a good question. After he returned to the Dreadfort and formally became Bolton's heir, he had studied this history in detail.

According to historical records, when the King of the North and the Red King quarreled over this land two thousand years ago, the Red King's great army once crossed the Long Lake, defeated the unsuspecting Starks from the north, and first seized Winterfell.

The then-head of House Stark, also known as the "Unchained" Wolf King Brandon Stark, did not send reinforcements to the city but chose to battle the Red King's main force in the open field, winning and then cutting off the retreat of the Red King's army that had attacked Winterfell. The "Wise" Red King Bolton had no choice but to set Winterfell ablaze and then break out.

After this battle, the Red King gained only the hollow reputation of "Wise"; everything else was loss of troops and land.

If the Duke is referring to this, it is indeed representative. The Red King took Winterfell but did not achieve the victory he wanted.

"Twice, my lord."

"In fact, there have been three times. The one people don't know about, Bolton's occupation was too brief, and it is rarely recorded formally." The Duke looked weary but seemed to continue to enlighten and educate him: "Their ultimate failure was not due to lack of strength, but because they never completely defeated the Starks; in fact, without completely defeating them, one cannot truly control the North."

This principle is not hard to understand; in fact, just look at the colorful patterns smeared on the walls of this castle's council chamber and you'll see the clue.

The walls of the Haywood council chamber bear exquisite murals, the paintings etched onto fish‑beam wood panels, the panels deeply set into the walls, leaving only the lower part showing the wall's original rough stone texture. If you look closely, the murals depict various stories from the history of the North, each panel bold and heavy, with a unique style. He saw Bolton's elements on at least three of the panels, but almost every panel also bears the Stark's mark.

He glanced at the neighboring panel and was astonished to find that the rain had stopped, a sliver of sunlight streaming through the opened glass window, casting the fish‑beam tree painted on the wall in a brighter, fiercer red.

"If so, you think that because the Wolf Girl is a woman we can overlook this point, right?"

"Which point? Of course not. 'She is still a bastard.' And a witch. If you follow some people's hints, nowadays rain and sunshine are all her doing."

"We fight under the stag's banner; whether she is a bastard means nothing after King Robert legitimized her." The Duke turned his head slightly toward the red‑robed monk who had lost an eye, saying, "Asa Luo says his god sent him to assist me. If a bastard were really easy to deal with, his god would be too generous."

His god had better not take a penny, and better get lost far from the North.

"So?"

"So defeating the Wolf Girl is more important than taking Winterfell." The Duke sped up his speech, "But this is only one reason. The eastern lands, especially the Starks' territory, are full of wolves' supporters; we should send Fo Lei over first to sort things out for us, after all, soft fruit is easier to eat." The Duke looked at him again, as if giving an instruction: "Bolton wants to rule the North in peace; his hands must not be stained with more blood. Wolf blood is already hard to wash clean."

Fo Lei. He guessed that, but that alone wasn't enough to convince him.

"Bolton has already taken Winterfell many times; taking it again from a woman's hands won't bring us glory. On the contrary, if we can destroy the last Stark strength in her hands, we won't have to worry about a Stark counter‑strike, and the Winterfell you want will fall into our lap." The Duke smiled thinly, "Since we know the main objective, why not march straight toward it?"

"My lord, this is exactly what I worry about." He thought of the Wolf Girl's record in the south, in the riverlands, and in the Grave‑mound village, and of how she now commands far more troops than when she marched south. "If we hold the castle, even without a major assault on Winterfell, just staying here can wear her down."

The Dreadfort will someday be his as well, and he cannot hide his true thoughts before the Duke. If he truly angers the Duke, causing him to choose Roose Bolton as heir, then he too will have to step aside.

"Little Bolton, you still want to attack Winterfell, huh!" The one‑eyed red‑robed monk seemed not to mind, still wearing a thick smile; Li Ke Bolton didn't know how he managed it, "The army marches toward Winterfell—though it's only a few days' journey, the supply line is really too far; we have more troops, but not enough to guarantee the supply route's safety, which is one reason the Duke doesn't choose to attack Winterfell; if you're still not convinced, I have a second reason: we will surely defeat the Wolf Girl in the pitched battle."

"Magic? 'Certainly?'" Li Ke Bolton didn't know when the red‑robed monk could speak for the Duke without the Duke's nod.

"Certainly." The red‑robed monk descended from the platform's steps, grinning, "Just as the Faceless Man surely killed her two brothers. Little Bolton, if on the battlefield the Wolf Girl suddenly dies, tell me who would lose and who would win in this pitched battle."

If you could make the snow keep falling, we would already have won.

"What did you see in the fire?"

"The North is like a magic labyrinth; the closer you get here, the more unpredictable and indecipherable the strange lights in the fire become. Although Lahalo's divine power is unmatched, I myself have been affected in the North—this eye is proof..."

"Did you actually see anything?" Li Ke Bolton asked, slightly annoyed.

"Little Bolton. Unfortunately, I haven't seen anything; Lahalo hasn't granted me that honor."

"Then how do you guarantee it will give you the honor of killing the Wolf Girl?"

"There are naturally secrets here that mortals cannot comprehend."

"Nonsense!" He couldn't fully control his emotions, but the harsher words that followed were swallowed back.

"Ah, to put your mind at ease, I can only say it's long training, careful preparation, and rare conditions. We found something belonging to the Wolf Girl in the Library Tower—she ought not to have left any writing here, let alone hair, nor should she have killed the Duke and your kin there; that is all my guarantee. Are you a bit more satisfied?"

He had no blood relatives, only bastard Boltons, and the red‑robed monk would only satisfy him if he rolled back to the Eastern Continent.

He lost patience with the red‑robed monk's words and turned to the Duke, "My lord, we shouldn't place our hopes in illusory witchcraft and magic."

"Ser Gilbert said, an accepted challenge has divinity," the Duke rose, obviously having made a decision. "He's quite right, although he spoke of the Seven Gods," the Duke stood, facing the sunlight, looking extremely devout, like a saint, "I do not intend to offend any god."