The sky was gray and frighteningly cold, and the dogs could not smell. The big black bitch sniffed the bear's trail, shrank back, and hid among the dogs with her tail between her legs.The group of dogs curled up miserably on the bank of the river, letting the cold wind beat them.The wind was blowing through the layers of wool and furs, and Chett was cold too, damn cold for a dog as it was for a man, but he had to stay where he was.Thinking of this, his mouth twisted into a ball, and the boils on his face turned red with anger.I should have been safe on the Wall, tending to those stinking crows, and lighting a fire for Master Aemon.That bastard Jon Snow got me in this place for his fat friend Sam Tarly!Damn, staying in the depths of the Haunted Forest with these hounds, the balls are almost freezing.

"Seven layers of hell!" He grabbed the dog's rein violently, "Smell, bastard! This is the trace of a bear, do you still want to eat meat? Smell it!" But the dogs shrank even tighter and whined.Chett gave them a false split with the short whip, making the black bitch snarl at him. "Dog meat is no worse than bear meat," he warned her, exhaling and frosting immediately. Sister-boy Rucker folded his arms, palms in his armpits, and complained of freezing fingers despite his thick black wool gloves. "Damn it, it's freezing like hell, how can you hunt?" he said. "Fuck the bears, it's not worth our freezing."

"I can't go back empty-handed, Rucker," growled the little Paul with a brown beard, "The Commander will be unhappy." A spear was clutched tightly in his hand. "Fuck the old bear too," replied the thin sister-boy with wandering eyes. "Remember, Mormont is finished tomorrow, who cares if he's happy or not?" Little Paul blinked his little black eyes.Maybe he was forgetful again, Chett thought, the man was too stupid to remember anything. "Why did I kill Mr. Xiong? Why didn't I leave him alone and run away by myself?" "You think he'll leave us alone?" Rucker said. "He'll hunt us down! Want to get caught, big fool?"

"No," said little Paul, "I don't want it, I don't want it." "So you know how to do it?" Rucker asked. "That's right." The giant slammed his spear on the frozen river bank. "I understand. He can't come and get me." The sisters pulled out their palms from under their armpits and looked at Chett, "In my opinion, to be on the safe side, we might as well kill all the officials." Chett had had enough of his advice. "It's totally unnecessary. Our targets are only Old Bear, Bane, the second-in-command of the Shadow Tower, Grubb and Asan—unlucky they know how to map—and the two trackers Davin and Balen, um, plus Ser Pig of the crows. That's enough. While they're asleep, do it quietly, and don't make a sound, or you're dead. We're all dead." His boils glowed with rage. "Do your part well. You and your cousins ​​must not make mistakes. Paul, you must remember clearly that it is the third call, not the second call."

"Third call," the bearded man panting frostily replied, "I will do it with Softfoot. I remember, Chett." There was no moonlight tonight, and eight of their gang, by design, guarded the third outpost, and two tended the horses.This is the best opportunity.The wildlings are coming.Chett hoped to get far away before they came.He wants to live. Three hundred brethren of the Night's Watch rode north, two hundred from Castle Black and another hundred from the Shadow Tower.It was the largest patrol in generations, involving nearly a third of the Night's Watch.When they set off, they were originally to find the whereabouts of Benjen Stark, Waymar Royce and other missing rangers, and to scout out the reasons why the wildlings moved out of the village.Well now, they knew nothing of the whereabouts of Stark and Royce as they had when they set out, but they knew where the wild people were-they climbed the towering snow mountain, the damned Frostfang.They stayed there till the end of the world and did nothing about Chett.

But things backfired.Here they come.Down the milk river. Chett looked up at the river in front of him.The stony shores were frozen over, and milky water trickled down Frostfang for years.Mance Rayder and his host of wildlings were making their way down the river.Three days ago, Soren Smallwood hurried back to report the results of the investigation to Old Bear, while Kenji, his subordinate, revealed the news to others. "The big team hasn't left the mountain yet, but it's already on the way." Kenji said as he warmed his hands with a bonfire. "The forward is 'Doghead' Harmo, a pock-marked bitch. Goad climbed up the tree by the camp and saw through the firelight She, Twister Joan, the fool, wanted to shoot straight for it, and it's a good thing Smallwood's head is clear."

Chett spat, "Have you counted how many they have?" "A lot, a lot. Maybe 20,000, maybe 30,000. It's too late to calculate carefully. There are 500 forwards in Harma, and all of them have horses." People around the campfire exchange anxious glances.Once upon a time it was rare to see a dozen wildlings on horseback, five hundred... "Smallwood sent Balen and I to take a long way around the enemy's front line to scout out the main force," Kenkie continued. "Their ranks are endless, moving like frozen rivers, very slowly, only four times a day. Five miles, but it never looks like they are going back to the village. Half of the crowd is women and children, and the animals are in the front. There are goats, sheep, bison pulling sleds, etc. They are driving carts, pushing carts, Loaded with bales of furs, hunks of meat, caged chickens, sticks of butter, every damn possession in a word. So many mules and horses that your heart aches for the animals. The women carry Got as much."

"Are they going down the milk river?" Sister-boy Lark asked. "I don't think it's wrong, don't I?" The Milk River would take them past the Fist of the First Men, past the ancient ringfort, past the camp of the Night's Watch.Anyone with a little sense would understand that they should break out of camp immediately and retreat back to the Great Wall, but Old Xiong responded with more spikes, pits and thorns.What is the use of a large army?If you don't leave, sooner or later the whole army will be wiped out. Soren Smallwood actually wanted to take the initiative, as if he didn't think he died fast enough! "Beauty" Donnel Hill, squire to Ser Malador Locke, said that Smallwood had been to Locke's tent the night before.Marado used to have the same idea as Sir Odin Wellers, and advocated retreating, but Smallwood tried his best to lobby. "The King Beyond the Wall doesn't know that we are so far north," repeated the beautiful Donner. "His army is huge, but it is only a mob that wastes food. Many of them don't even know which side to hold their swords. Enough to send them howling back to their huts for another fifty years."

Three hundred against thirty thousand, Chett can only call it crazy, and what is even more crazy is that Sir Marado was actually moved, and he also went to see Old Xiong with Smallwood and agreed with him. "If we hesitate, the opportunity is gone and we can't wait any longer," Smallwood explained repeatedly to everyone.To refute him, Odin Wellers claimed, "We are the shields of the kingdom, and the shields must not be thrown down blindly." Thoren Smallwood shot back, "The best defense is to kill the enemy swiftly, and the Not cowering behind a shield." But neither Smallwood nor Wheelers had the right to decide, the decision belonged to the Lord Commander, and Mormont had to wait for the other two teams of scouts to return, including Jarmen Bookwell who climbed the Giant's Ladder, and Scout Qhorin Halfhand and Jon Snow in Windsound Pass.Undoubtedly, both Buckwell and Colin were in trouble, probably dead.Chett painted a picture in his mind: Jon Snow frozen alone on a desolate hilltop, a wildling spear piercing the bastard's ass.Thinking of this, he smiled.Hope they kill that damn wolf too.

"There are no bears here," he suddenly concluded. "It's just an outdated trace, which is boring. Let's go back." The dogs tugged helplessly, wanting to leave even more anxiously than he did, perhaps thinking that they would have dinner when they went back , Chett couldn't help laughing again.He had starved the hounds for three days, just to drive them mad with hunger.Tonight, before fleeing into the dark, he'd let them go before the horses, and Beauty Donna Hills and Clubfoot Carl would cut the reins.The Fist will be full of snarling hounds and panicked mounts, ramming campfires, jumping walls, and trampling tents.Under the cover of chaos, the disappearance of the fourteen brothers took a long time to discover.

Rucker wants to double the size of the Cabal - what good ideas can you expect from this fish-smelling fool?I found the wrong person, and I moved my head before I figured out what was going on.No, fourteen is a good number, which not only ensures sufficient manpower, but also ensures secrecy.Most of them were selected and recruited by Chett himself, and little Paul was one of the results—he was the strongest man on the Great Wall, although his movements were slower than a dead snail, he could crush the back of a savage alive.Shortblade also joins the cast, who takes his name from the weapon he is good at.And the little gray guy called Softfoot by the brethren, who fucked a hundred girls in his youth and used to boast that they didn't even know he was there until that shit came in. The plans were made by Chett, which is a wise man's job.He had been with old master Aemon for four full years before he was replaced by the bastard Jon Snow with his fat pig friend.Tonight, before he slaughtered Samwell Tarly, he meant to whisper in Ser Pig's ear, "Give Lord Snow my respects," before cutting his throat to let the blood spurt from the layers of fat.Chett knew the crows well enough not to cause unnecessary trouble, and he knew Tully well enough that a single stab of a dagger would make the coward wet his pants and cry for mercy.Asking him to beg for mercy is useless.Cut his throat, then open the cage and let the crow go, making sure the message doesn't get sent back to the Wall.At the same time, Ruan Zuo and Paul Jr. worked together to deal with Elder Xiong, Short Blade was in charge of Bann, and Lak and his cousins ​​aimed at Balen and Devin to prevent possible tracking.The conspirators had stockpiled food below the mountain for two weeks, and Beauty Donna Hill and Clubfoot Carl would take enough horses.After Mormont's death, the command passed to Ser Odin Wellers, a useless old man with a cowardice like a mouse.He'll escape back to the Wall before sunset, not wasting a single man in pursuit. The three made their way through the woods, and the dogs couldn't wait.Fist Peak gradually emerged from the green bushes.The sky was overcast, and Xiong Lao ordered torches to be lit, and they were inserted on the wall surrounding the top of the steep and rocky mountain, forming a giant ring of fire.A group of people waded through the creek, which was bone-chillingly cold and covered with ice floes. "I'm going to the sea," confided Rucker, the sister-boy, "with my cousins. We're going to build a boat and sail home to the Three Sisters." Go home and they'll take you for a deserter and cut off your stupid head, Chett thought.Once he swears, he will never leave the night watchman army, otherwise no matter where he hides in the Seven Kingdoms, he will be hunted and killed. One-armed Oro was going to sail to Tyrosh, where he said he wouldn't risk getting his hand cut off for petty theft, and he wouldn't be sent to freeze for life if he slept with a knight's wife.Chett wants to go with him, but the problem is that he doesn't know anything about the dank and exaggerated spoken language of the Free Cities.Besides, if you don't know how to do business, what are you doing in Tyrosh?Chett was born in Witch's Bog, his father spent his life digging in other people's fields for leeches, stripped naked before work, waded into the sewage mud with a thick piece of leather on his back, and crawled back with wet feet from his ankles to his nipples. Suck full of leeches.Usually, he put Chett in charge of getting the bugs out.I remember once, when a worm got stuck on the boy's palm, and Chett crushed it in such disgust that his father beat him half to death—a dozen leeches would go to a maester for a penny. Rucker could go home if he wanted to, and so would the damned Tyroshi, and Chett wasn't going anywhere.If you don't have to see Witchbog in your life, you'll be damn thankful.His favorite was Craster's Fortress.Custer lives there like a lord, why can't he follow his example?Funny how Chett, the son of the Leech Man, will be Lord Lord of the Castle one day, and his arms will be a dozen leeches on a pink ground.Why only be the lord?Maybe one day he could be king.Didn't Mance Rayder start his career as a crow?I could be a king like him, with countless wives and concubines.Custer had nineteen wives, not counting the youngest daughters who hadn't slept.Although half of this group of women are old and ugly like Custer, it doesn't matter, I can let the old ones cook and clean, pull carrots and feed the pigs, and let the young ones warm the quilt for me and have children.Castor?Hmph, if he has an opinion, I'll ask Little Paul to give him a hug! The only women Chett ever fucked were the whores in Moletown.When I was young, the girls in the village would just see his face, see those boils and acne, and immediately run away in nausea.Worst of all was scruffy Bertha, who could spread her thighs for every boy in Witch's Bog, and he thought he could too.That day, he spent the whole morning picking wild flowers, because she liked flowers.As it turned out, she kept laughing at his face and saying she would rather crawl into a bed full of leeches his father had caught than sleep with him.Her smile froze as the dagger sank into her chest, what a sweet expression, so he pulled the dagger out and stabbed it again.Later he was arrested near Seven Springs, and the old Marquess Walder Frey didn't bother to attend the trial, so he only sent his illegitimate son Walder Rivers.The next thing Chett remembered was being escorted to the Wall by the stinking black demon Yoren, and they took his life for that sweet moment. Now he's going to take it all back, including Custer's woman.That savage old savage did it right: strike at any woman you want, never coyly send flowers to make her pay attention to your boils!Chett was determined not to make the same mistake. I can make it, he promised himself a hundred times.As long as you escape cleanly, you will win more than half.Ser Odyn will head south toward the Shadow Tower, the shortest path back to the Wall.He won't come for us, Willers won't, he'll just run for his life.Thoron Smallwood, for his part, would probably continue to preach the attack, but Sir Otting was famously cautious, and he was the leader.In fact, to put it bluntly, as long as we escape, it doesn't matter, Smallwood can beat him if he wants, it's none of my business?It would be best if we all died, then most people would think we were killed too.It's a new idea, and it's very attractive.For Smallwood to take command... Ser Odin and Ser Mallador Locke would have to be killed at the same time, but they were guarded by guards day and night... no, the risk was too great. "Chite," Paul Jr. said as they trudged through the stone paths under the Sentinel Tree and Pine Pine, "what about the birds?" "Damn it, what kind of bird?" The idiot actually cared about what kind of bird. "Old Bear's crow," said little Paul, "if I kill him, who will feed his birds?" "Who the hell cares about this shit? Kill it if you're happy." "It's not that I don't dare to kill a bird," said the big man, "but it's a talking bird, so strange. But if I don't kill it, what if it tells me what I did?" Sister-boy Lark laughed out loud. "Little Paul, with a thicker skin than a city wall," he mocked. "Shut up," Little Paul growled fiercely. "Paul," Chett said before the big man got angry, "it doesn't take a bird to tell anyone who sees an old man lying in a pool of blood with his throat open knows it's murder." Little Paul thought about Chett's words for a while. "Yes," he admitted, "but can I keep the bird? I like it." "It's yours," Chett announced hastily, to silence him. "Very well, we have nothing to eat one day, and we have something in case of emergency," Rucker commented. Little Paul's voice darkened again, "Better not come and eat my bird, Ruck, better not." Chett heard voices beyond the jungle. "Shut up both of you, you're almost at Fist Peak." When they came out of the woods, they were at the western foot of the mountain, so they detoured south to find a more convenient way up the mountain.There were a dozen night watchmen practicing bows and arrows by the forest.People painted targets on tree trunks and aimed at them to shoot. "Look," said Rucker, "a fat pig with a bow and arrow." Yes, the closest shooter to them was Ser Piggy himself, the fat man who had stolen his place at Maester Aemon's side.The sight of Samwell Tarly made him furious.Serving Maester Aemon was, in his eyes, the cheapest job in the world.The old blind man was kind, and Clydas was always rushing to work, so Chett's tasks were simple: sweep the nest, light the fire, prepare a light meal...and Aemon never beat him.Fatty, why did you push me out?Because of your noble birth, you know how to read and write?Damn, I need to show him a good look at my dagger before I kill him. "You go first," he told his two companions, "I'll go and have a look." The dogs were still tugging, hoping to go back quickly, looking forward to the food on the top of the mountain.Chett raised the toe of his boot and gave the bitches a kick to calm them down. He hid in the woods and watched the fat man fiddle with a longbow that was as tall as him, and his round red face was contorted with concentration.There were three arrows stuck in the ground in front of Tully.He nocked his arrow and drew his bow, took aim for a long time before firing.Arrows disappeared only in the green bushes.Chett laughed until he retched. "It's bound to be lost, and it'll be my fault again," declared Addison Tollett, a sad, grey-haired squire, known as Melancholy Eddie. "Ever since I lost my horse, they've been coming to my house for anything missing, as if there was some connection. It's white and the snow is white, how can I say it?" "The wind blew that arrow away," Grant said, another friend of Lord Snow's. "Hold on to the handle, Sam." "It's heavy," the fat man complained, but he took out the second arrow anyway.The shot was high this time, through the canopy ten feet above the target. "I'm sure you've knocked off a leaf," said sad Eddie. "It's fallen fast enough that there's no need to help," he sighed. "Everybody knows what's behind the fallen leaf. By Gods, It's cold in here. Try that last one, Sam, my tongue is freezing on the roof of my mouth." Ser Piggy lowered his longbow, looking like he was about to weep bitterly. "too difficult." "Nock the arrow, draw the bow, let it go," Grant said, "go on." Fatty faithfully pulled out the last arrow, put it on the longbow, pulled it up, and fired.This time he finished quickly, not squinting painfully to aim like the previous two times.The arrow hit the bottom of the human-shaped chest outlined in charcoal, trembling endlessly. "I've hit him!" cried Sir Pig in surprise. "Glenn, see? Eddie, look, I've hit him!" "Yes, through the ribs," Grant said. "I killed him?" Fatty wanted to know. Tollett shrugged. "Probably pierced a lung, if he had one. Basically, trees don't have one, that's how it is." He took the longbow from Sam. "I've seen worse shots, yes. Yes, oh, I have sniffed myself." Sir Pig looked beaming.You thought he really did something big!But when he saw Chett and his dog, the smile immediately subsided and disappeared quickly. "You hit a tree," Chett said, "what about Mance Rayder's men? They don't stand still, rustling their branches, oh no. They jump Come on, scream in your ear, make you pee your pants, I bet! They'll drive an ax between those little pig eyes, and the last sound you'll hear in your life will be the roar of a shattering skull." Fatty trembled all over.Sad Eddie puts his hands on his shoulders. "Brother," he said solemnly, "what happened to you doesn't mean it will happen again to Samwell." "What, Tollett?" "Didn't half your brains go to the ground with the ax that broke your skull?" The big idiot Glenn laughed, and even Samwell squeezed out a faint smile.Chett kicked the nearest dog, pulled up the rope, and turned around to climb the hill.Laugh, Ser Piggy, and let's see who has the last laugh in the evening.He wanted to kill Tollett too.The gloomy horse-faced idiot is no good for you. Even from the Fist Peak, stepping on the gentlest slope, the climb is still difficult.As soon as we reached the mountainside, the dogs started growling and procrastinating again, probably thinking that it was finally time for dinner.He let them taste the boots, and he whipped the big ugly dog ​​that had dared to bite him back.Fastening them, he immediately ran to report. "The traces are just as the giants reported, but the dogs smell nothing," he told the Lord Commander in front of Mormont's big black tent. "It may have been washed by the river, or it may be a trace of old times." "It's a pity," said the balding Lord Commander Mormont, with his shaggy gray beard, and his voice was as tired as his expression, "some fresh meat would improve everyone's lives." The crow on his shoulder repeated, nodding, "Fresh meat, Fresh meat. Fresh meat." We can roast those goddamn dogs, Chett thought, thankfully he kept his mouth shut before the old bear sent off.This is the last time I bow to this guy, he decided with satisfaction.It was getting colder on the way back, and Chett longed to crawl among them as the dogs huddled miserably on the solid frozen ground.He suppressed his thoughts and found a woolen scarf to wrap around his face, leaving only a small slit around his mouth.It seemed better to keep walking, so he chewed a sour leaf and paced slowly around the wall, splitting mouthfuls with the brothers on guard from time to time and listening to them.None of the guards during the day participated in his plot, but even so, it was always right to listen to other people's ideas. Most people's thinking is naive and fucking cold. The figure grows longer, and the cold wind intensifies.The wind drilled through the stone cracks in the surrounding wall, making a high-pitched, shrill sound. "I hate the sound," said the little giant. "It reminds me of a baby crying for milk." He strolled back to the dogs, where Lark was waiting for him. "The officials were called into the old Xiong's tent again, and seemed to be arguing fiercely." "That's their business," Chett said. "They're highborn—except for Bane—who can drink in words instead of wine." Lak leaned over mysteriously. "Big goofy is figuring out that bird," he warned, swaying around to make sure no one was approaching, "and just asked if I could have some corn for the stinking thing." "Crows," Chett said, "can eat corpses." Rucker grinned. "Maybe, his?" or yours.According to Chett, the big man is more useful than Lark. "Don't mess with little Paul again. You do your thing, he does his." When he finally got rid of his sister-boys and sat down to sharpen his sword, there were only a few rays of sunlight left among the trees.It's fucking hard to work with gloves on, but you can't take them off.It was so cold that a fool who dared to touch steel with his bare hands would immediately lose a piece of skin. The sun finally went down, and the dogs whimpered.He gave them water and another burst of cursing, "Wait half the night, and you can have a picnic." Then he smelled the smell of rice. Chett received his share of crusty bread, broad bean and bacon soup from Huck, the cook.Devon was also by the campfire. "It's too quiet in the woods," said the old forester. "There are no frogs by the river, no owls on the trees. I've never seen such a dead forest." "The sound of your teeth is lifeless." Huck said. Devon's wooden dentures crackled. "Even wolves can't be found. There used to be, but now they're gone. Where do you think they're going?" "A place warmer than here," Chett said. Around the fire sat a dozen brothers, four of whom took part in his plot.As he ate, he squinted his eyes and looked at each guy in turn to see if anyone was giving away.Dirk was very calm, sitting and sharpening his sword in silence, as always; and dear Donal Hills went on with his low jokes.He had white teeth, full red lips, and yellow hair combed fashionably over his shoulders.He liked to claim he was the bastard of the Lannisters, and maybe he was, but it wasn't looks or parentage that Chett was looking for, it was Donal Hills because he was reliable. He had less confidence in Forester Thorwood, who was better known for his snoring than his work, but now he was acting so restlessly that one thought he would never snore again.Maslin was worse, the wind was howling, but Chett could see the sweat dripping down his face, glistening in the firelight like wet little diamonds.He didn't eat either, just stared blankly at the soup bowl, as if the smell of the food made people sick.I've got to keep an eye on this guy, Chett thought. "Assemble!" More than a dozen voices shouted at the same time, and immediately spread to every corner of the hilltop camp, "Men of the Night Watch Legion! Gather by the central fire!" Chett frowned, took a few mouthfuls of vegetable soup, and joined the ranks of others. The Old Bear stood before the fire, and behind him, Smallwood, Locke, Willers, and Ben stood in a single file.Mormont wore a thick black fur cloak, and a raven perched on his shoulders, preening his black feathers.It won't be a good thing.Chett squeezed between Bernard Wong and some brother from the Shadow Tower.When all but the Sentinels in the forest and the guards on the wall were present, Mormont cleared his throat and spat, and the Mercury froze before it reached the ground. "Brothers," he said, "men of the Night's Watch!" "Man!" screamed his crow, "Man! Man!" "The savages have set off and are walking out of the mountains along the Milk River. Sauron is sure that the enemy's vanguard will arrive here in ten days. The most experienced raiders among them form the vanguard led by the dog-headed Harma, and the rest Either in rear guard, or Mance Rayder himself, or spread out to defend the long procession. The enemy drove cattle, mules, horses... but there were not enough animals, and most of them were on foot, unarmed, uninformed. Training, even the weapons they own are mostly animal bones, stone tools, not steel. In addition, they also drag women, children, herds of goats and sheep...everything they have. In a word, although the enemy is numerous, And vulnerable...they don't even know we exist - at least we pray." No wonder they don't know!Chett thought, You bloody stupid old idiot, of course they know, it's as obvious as the sun will rise!Qhorin Halfhand isn't back, is he?Jarmen Bookwell didn't come back either, did he?If either of the two teams gets caught by the wildlings, damn it, we'll be exposed. Smallwood stepped forward. "Mance Rayder intends to break through the Great Wall and bring a bloody war to the Seven Kingdoms. Well, we will fight him in the same way and bring him the war tomorrow." "At dawn, we will go at full strength." The crowd began to whisper, and Old Xiong continued. "Go north first, then turn west, and make a big bend. By the time you turn back, Harma's vanguard should have crossed Fist Peak. There are many small winding canyons for ambush at the foot of Frostfang. The enemy's team stretches for countless miles , we attacked from multiple directions at the same time, making them think we have 3,000 people, not just 300." "It's all done, retreat before the enemy's cavalry come back," said Thoron Smallwood, "let them run after them, and we'll go round and attack the other end of the line. Burn the wagons, scatter the cattle, and try Mance Rayder himself would be the best if we could. If we can get them all to flee for their lives and go back to their huts and caves, then we're done: even if things don't go our way, we can go to the Wall On the way, they kept harassing each other and asked them to use countless corpses as road signs." "But they're outnumbered," said someone behind Chett. "We are going to die." It was Maslin's voice, weak and panicked. "Die," screamed Mormont's raven, flapping its black wings, "die, die, die." "Many of us will die," said Mormont, "perhaps en masse. But as another Lord Commander said a thousand years ago, isn't that why we are asked to wear black? Remember your Oath, brethren. We are swords in the dark, guards on the Wall..." "Fire against the cold." Ser Malador Locke drew his sword. "The light of dawn," the others responded, and several more longswords were unsheathed. Then everyone drew their swords.Nearly three hundred long swords were held high in the air, and three hundred voices were shouting: "The horn that awakens the sleepers! The shield that protects the kingdom!" Qi Youte had no choice but to shout along.The air was foggy with the breath of men, and the steel shone with fire.He was relieved to find that Rucker, Clubfoot, and Belle Donna Hills were all in on the act, pretending to be one of the idiots too.Great.The plan is about to be carried out without attracting unnecessary attention. When the shouting stopped, he heard the cold wind howling again through the ring wall.The torch swayed, and it seemed that even they felt the cold. In the sudden silence, the crows croaked over and over again: "Death."