Two of the old soldiers Jon brought died, and one was severely wounded, clearly not going to make it.
Just now, he alone held off three tribal warriors.
The remaining two were also badly injured.
Perhaps if Jon had insisted on bringing a few more Winterfell elites, the situation would have been different.
But this was mountainous terrain, and the paths in many places were so treacherous that they were heart-stopping.
Those with less skill might have fallen to their deaths.
One could only say it was a dilemma.
Harken, on the other hand, was pale from excessive blood loss, but fortunately, none of his stab wounds were fatal.
Coupled with his youth, he should have no problem surviving.
The reason he dared to ask Sola such a question was probably because his 'emotions got the better of him'.
Jon confiscated the weapons of the tribal warriors while secretly listening to Sola's explanation.
It wasn't out of vanity; although Jon's features were well-defined, he didn't possess the inhuman beauty of a Targaryen.
He also wanted to know what aspect of him attracted Sola.
Sola, while bandaging Harken, spoke in a slightly hoarse voice:
"Harken, do you know my mother?"
Harken was puzzled but still nodded.
"She wasn't from the Painted Dog Tribe; my father abducted her from below the mountain when he was young. Her father was a knight."
As she spoke, Sola touched the ring on her hand.
"Before she passed away, she told me she didn't have a single day when she didn't hate my father.
Harken, do you know, the thought of me marrying you, and the son I give birth to one day going down the mountain to plunder a poor woman, makes me unable to accept you..."
Sola's voice gradually became choked with sobs.
The others were also moved upon hearing this.
Take Harken himself, for example; he had also gone down the mountain to participate in raids.
Naturally, he had also raped women from below the mountain.
Today, it was the first time his beloved had pointed out her extreme aversion to such behavior.
Of course, Hugh Wolf and the tribal warriors he brought with him were indifferent.
Going down the mountain to capture women and slaves was their tradition.
What was wrong with that?
They only thought Sola was being overly sentimental.
After half an hour of effort, the bandaging was finally finished.
The old soldier Jon brought was already losing consciousness, muttering something about twenty catties of grain, twenty catties of grain.
Jon walked over, patted him on the shoulder, and whispered:
"I will have someone send three hundred catties of grain and one hundred catties of meat to your family, rest assured."
Upon receiving Jon's promise, the old soldier from the mountain tribe let out a long breath, a faint smile on his pale face.
The autumn wind sighed, and the forest rustled, as if bidding farewell to this old man who had toiled his whole life yet still worried about his children.
Jon tidied his appearance for the deceased and would later find a scenic spot to bury their bodies.
The remaining two injured old soldiers, after hearing Jon's promise, also looked eager to move, even peeking down the mountain.
To get three hundred catties of grain and one hundred catties of meat just by dying—that was too good a deal!
However, Jon stopped them:
"You only get it if you die in battle. For every enemy you kill, I'll add one hundred catties of grain!"
Hearing Jon's addition, the old soldiers no longer thought of seeking death but instead grinned foolishly, calculating how long one hundred catties of grain would feed their children.
Their expressions made Jon sigh softly.
Before long, kings would die like stray dogs by the roadside, let alone these people.
If Jon's initial motivation was to preserve humanity's strength to deal with the possible arrival of the Others, then at least at this moment, he truly hoped fewer people would die.
Jon turned to look at Hugh Wolf; he had wrapped his severed wrist in his clothes, but blood still soaked through.
Hugh Wolf's face was as white as paper.
"What exactly is on the mountain that you insist I go up?"
"I told you, it's useless even if you don't go up."
Clang—
Jon drew his sword, pressing the tip against his neck, and said coldly:
"If you want to live, tell me whatever I ask."
Feeling the coldness on his neck, Hugh Wolf quickly said:
"There's a dragon egg on the mountain; I went up there to hatch a dragon."
Indeed!
Seeing him say this, Jon and Old Yorek both felt invigorated; their guess was correct!
As for the others, they looked at him with surprise.
There was actually a dragon egg on the mountain?
"What kind of egg is a dragon egg?" One had to admit Harken had a strong constitution; Sola had just stopped his bleeding, and he had already recovered a good deal of strength.
Perhaps it was also because Sola's clear rejection had resolved his inner conflict.
Sola patiently explained to Harken, while Jon pressed him further on how he knew.
"My ancestor was a descendant of the Fire Witch. Her dragon was called Sheep Stealer. Over a hundred years ago, Sheep Stealer mated with the dragon of a Targaryen prince. When Sheep Stealer left, she already had a fertilized dragon egg in her belly."
"That was actually a Targaryen prince; we called him Prince Daemon or the Rogue Prince." Old Yorek, standing by, couldn't help but interject, showing off his knowledge.
At the same time, he also developed a strong interest in the mountaintop.
Although dragons had been extinct for over a hundred, almost two hundred years, it would still be good if he could see a dragon egg!
Seeing Hugh Wolf say this, and combined with his imperviousness to heat, Jon believed he wasn't lying.
If that was the case, then it was worth his while to go.
"Old Yorek, tidy up the ropes; I'm going up."
"My lord! This, it's too dangerous. Let's wait until we bring more people later, and build a long ladder here first."
"Later? There won't be a later."
He didn't know when he would come again next time.
The future situation would be ten times more chaotic than now!
Moreover, it seemed that if he could ascend Hidden Fire Peak, the assembled tribal warriors would respect him more, making it easier for him to integrate the army.
He looked at the somewhat withered pine tree at the top of the cliff; it was almost directly above Jon and his group.
In between was seventy to eighty meters of nearly vertical, bare cliff.
Only by leaning out more than halfway could one see it, let alone what was above the pine tree.
However, Jon already had an idea.
"Jon... Lord Jon, you, you're going up, right? You also saw, I'm not afraid of heat. People with the blood of dragon kings aren't afraid of heat. As long as you let me go, once I hatch the dragon and rule Seven Kingdoms, I will definitely repay you! My lord!
You're from the North, right? I'll make you Earl of the North!"
Jon looked at Hugh Wolf, almost bursting into laughter.
His appearance gave him a comical 'I, Qin Shi Huang, send money' vibe.
"No need, you can go back now." Jon said with a mocking tone.
"What?!"
Jon kicked him hard, and Hugh Wolf screamed as he fell off the cliff.
His cries echoed through the mountains, quickly swallowed by the peaks.
After that, Jon didn't hesitate and immediately killed all the people Hugh Wolf had brought.
Naturally, the fewer people who knew about the dragon egg, the better.
Just as Jon was about to figure out how to climb the cliff, the Golden Finger suddenly changed.
A new entry appeared before him—
[The Unburnt](White).