LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 46: A Lion’s Fury
Chapter 46: A Lion's Fury
The smoke from the ambush still lingered in the air, curling faintly against the horizon like a taunting reminder of the Riverlands' defiance. The Lannister forces had retreated in disarray, their broken formation leaving corpses and shattered banners behind. Yet, for all the satisfaction that Timothy's ambush had brought, Ivar Sunblode knew it would come at a price. Tywin Lannister did not forgive humiliation, and this wound to his pride would demand vengeance.
In Riverrun's war room, the air was thick with tension as Ivar and his council gathered to discuss their next steps. The map before them was a mosaic of symbols and notes, each one a mark of hard-won progress. But among those marks were signs of vulnerability—areas where their defenses could falter if Tywin pressed hard enough.
Roland Emberhill stood near the window, his frame rigid with tension. The faint sound of hammering and shouting filtered in from the courtyard below, where soldiers and villagers worked to reinforce the castle's defenses. "The ambush worked," Roland began, his voice steady but tinged with unease. "We crippled one of his foraging parties and destroyed their supplies. But we can't let ourselves grow overconfident. Tywin won't let this slide."
Timothy Sunrise, leaning lazily against the far wall, twirled one of his daggers with practiced ease. His grin was sharp, predatory. "Let him come. We've shown we can hit him where it hurts. He's bleeding, and he knows it. If he wants to march straight into our traps again, I'll gladly welcome him with open arms—and sharp blades."
"That's exactly what we need to avoid," Duncan Greenfield interjected, his brow furrowed. He sat at the table, his fingers drumming against the wood in a rhythmic, anxious beat. "We've disrupted his plans, yes, but we've also provoked him. Tywin doesn't respond with recklessness. If he strikes back, it'll be with overwhelming force, and we're already stretched thin."
Lysa Blackthorne, perched on the edge of a nearby chair, crossed her arms and regarded the others with her usual measured calm. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Ivar, though her words were meant for everyone. "Tywin's not just a warlord. He's a tactician. He doesn't lash out blindly—he uses his fury as a weapon. This ambush will only make him more focused, more precise. Whatever he does next, it won't be a simple retaliation. It'll be a calculated move designed to break us."
Ivar stood at the head of the table, his hands braced against its edges. He listened to each voice in turn, his expression unreadable. Inside, his thoughts churned like a storm, weighing every possibility and every risk. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but the undercurrent of determination was unmistakable.
"Tywin will retaliate," he said. "That much is certain. But he won't do it immediately. He'll take his time, regroup his forces, and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. That's where we have the advantage—we know how he thinks. If we're going to survive this, we need to stay ahead of him."
Roland turned from the window, his jaw tight. "You're talking about setting another trap?"
"Yes," Ivar replied. "But this one will be different. Tywin is too smart to fall for obvious bait. We need to give him a reason to believe he can win. Something that plays into his need to control the battlefield."
Lysa arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You want to make Riverrun look vulnerable? That's a dangerous game, Ivar. If he senses even a hint of deception, he'll turn it against us."
"I know the risks," Ivar said, meeting her gaze. "But it's the only way to draw him in. We'll stage a false retreat along the Red Fork—make it look like we're pulling back to consolidate our forces. At the same time, we'll leave one of our supply depots lightly defended, just enough to tempt him into attacking."
"And when he takes the bait?" Timothy asked, his grin widening.
"We'll spring the trap," Ivar replied. "Roland, your archers will take positions on the hills surrounding the depot. Lysa, I need your spies to spread rumors of discord among the Riverland lords—whispers that some of them are considering surrendering to Tywin. It needs to feel real enough to reach his ears without causing panic."
Lysa's smirk deepened, though her expression remained calculating. "Rumors of dissent? That won't be hard to fabricate. Some of the lords are already grumbling about the cost of this war. But you'll need to make sure it doesn't spiral out of control."
"I'll handle it," Ivar assured her.
Duncan leaned forward, his fingers steepled as he considered the plan. "And what about the depot itself? If Tywin sends a larger force than we expect, Timothy's men could be overwhelmed."
"That's why we'll have reinforcements nearby," Ivar said. "Timothy, your enhanced soldiers will lead the ambush, but Roland's archers and a reserve force will be ready to intervene if needed."
Timothy pushed off the wall, sliding his dagger into its sheath. "Sounds like my kind of party. I'll make sure we give Tywin a show he won't forget."
Roland's brow furrowed, his expression skeptical. "You're putting a lot of faith in this plan, Ivar. If it fails…"
"It won't," Ivar said firmly. His voice carried a quiet intensity that silenced further objections. "Because we don't have a choice. If we wait for Tywin to make the next move, he'll dictate the terms of this war. This is our chance to take the initiative—and we're going to take it."
The council broke for the evening, each member departing to prepare for their role in the plan. Ivar remained in the war room, his gaze fixed on the map as the firelight cast flickering shadows across its surface.
Lysa returned after a time, her footsteps soft against the stone floor. She approached him cautiously, her sharp eyes searching his face for signs of doubt.
"You're taking a big risk," she said, her voice quiet but firm.
"I know," Ivar replied without looking up. "But it's the only way to keep Tywin off balance. If we play it safe, he'll wear us down piece by piece. This way, we have a chance to turn the tide."
Lysa studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "You're carrying all of this on your shoulders. You don't have to, you know."
Ivar finally looked at her, his expression softening. "Someone has to. Every decision I make affects thousands of lives. I can't afford to falter."
"You won't," Lysa said simply. There was no trace of doubt in her voice, only quiet conviction.
Timothy and his team set out under the cover of darkness, their movements silent and deliberate as they approached the designated ambush site. The woods surrounding the supply depot were dense, their thick canopy blocking out most of the moonlight.
As they reached their positions, Timothy crouched beside Serah, one of his most trusted soldiers. Her sharp features were illuminated faintly by the glow of their torches, and her expression was tense but determined.
"You know the drill," Timothy said in a low voice. "We wait until they're fully committed, then we hit them hard. No hesitation."
Serah nodded, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "And if they bring reinforcements?"
"Then we improvise," Timothy replied, his grin faint but reassuring.
The hours dragged on, the stillness of the forest amplifying every rustle and whisper. Timothy's mind raced with thoughts of what could go wrong, but he pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand.
At dawn, the Lannister force arrived. A column of infantry accompanied by a handful of cavalry moved cautiously toward the depot, their golden banners catching the morning light.
Timothy's grip tightened on his daggers as he watched them approach. "Here we go," he muttered under his breath.
The Lannister soldiers entered the depot, their movements careful but confident as they began inspecting the supplies.
"Wait for it," Timothy whispered, his voice barely audible.
When the signal came, the ambush was swift and devastating. Enhanced soldiers burst from their hiding places, their speed and strength overwhelming the unsuspecting Lannister troops. Arrows rained down from Roland's archers, cutting down those who tried to flee.
Timothy moved like a shadow through the chaos, his daggers flashing as he dispatched enemies with precision. Despite the odds, the Lannister force crumbled under the relentless assault.
By the time the battle ended, the depot was secure, and the surviving Lannister soldiers had fled. As Timothy surveyed the carnage, a faint grin tugged at his lips. "That'll send Tywin a message."
Back at Riverrun, Ivar received the news with quiet satisfaction. The ambush had succeeded, but the war was far from over.
"Tywin will retaliate," Lysa said, her tone cautious.
"Let him," Ivar replied, his voice resolute. "We'll be ready."
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