stonecrandall Chapter 190 Bloodstained Bridge
Chapter 190 Bloodstained Bridge
Chapter 121 Bloodstained Bridge
Under Jules' decisive command, the frenzied raid, later known as the "Bloody Bridge Incident," began.
Jules's 120 most elite heavily armored cavalrymen, like a runaway steel torrent, disregarded everything and stepped onto the ancient long bridge.
Iron hooves pounded the bridge, creating a thunderous roar. Merchants, beggars, and hooligans passing by were swept away, and any scattered guards who tried to stop them were instantly crushed.
"Swift action is our core principle," Tiberius said before the battle.
Even if Valentis is currently weak, this is still their home ground, and we have only one goal:
Do everything in your power to disrupt him!
However, before that, Sevita had an even more "ingenious" idea.
"Hey, how about we write them a letter?" Sevita grinned, then pulled out a pen and a piece of paper.
"Vito, old Vito, I say, you write."
Thus, what later became known in history as "A Letter from the White Legion to the Consul of Valantis" became a popular topic.
To the consuls of Valantis, the eunuchs of the Tiger and Elephant parties, and the maggots who call themselves nobles:
By the wrath of the Lord of Light, the roar of the Drowned God, the gaze of the Seven Gods, and the iron hilts at our waists, I swear this letter is a reward for you cowards of Valanthi!
I heard your ancestors were servants who rubbed their asses against the backsides of ancient Valyrian dragons? No wonder you only know how to lie on the ground and lick those dragon bones that have long since turned to ash!
What kind of bullshit "eldest daughter" is Valantis now? She's nothing but an old prostitute whose underwear was pulled down by pirates and whose door was kicked down by mercenaries!
No matter how high the city walls are built, they cannot hide the cowardice and stench in your bones!
Your general, Marcus, is being touted as some kind of god of war descended from heaven.
"Invincible in every battle"? Bah! That's because you haven't met your Grandpa Jules and young Master Tiberius yet!
His Tiger Robe Army? They dressed up like respectable men, but they ran faster than startled rabbits!
His precious elephant? It's currently lying in the controversial river feeding turtles and eels!
And your "invincible" fleet! It's laughable! Before they even saw the sails of the Three Daughters Kingdom's ships, they were so scared by the storm that they wet their pants and sank faster than stones!
Especially that admiral who commands you all—did he grow up eating seaweed? His brain is full of water, more water than the summer sea! He's probably scrubbing the ass of a sea monster in the palace of the Drowned God right now!
We are—Jules Mode, the "Keeper of Faith" (the true god of war of Essos), Tiberius Mode (the man who will one day be your son's true father), Lisanro Rogal (the most handsome creditor and poet in all of Lys), and Sevita Greyjoy (the true king of the Iron Islands, fuck those bastards of Pyke City!).
I just took a walk on your so-called "never-falling" long bridge!
Where are your garrison troops? Are they all trembling under women's skirts? Or are they in that cesspool-like hellhole on the West Bank, indulging in prostitution, drinking, and murder?
We planted our flag at your city gate, saw it? Not to occupy it, but to let you know: We were here, we saw it, and we even pissed on your sacred bridge pillars! We took a dump under your black walls! (Sevita himself did it, consider it a blessing for your wretched place!)
Don't expect your Marcus to save you! He's busy cleaning up your mess right now!
By the time he crawls back from that muddy mess, we'll have already run off with your gold, silk, your wives' desires, and your daughters' virginity!
Come and chase me if you dare! Let's see if your horses are faster, or my sword is faster!
Finally, we offer you our heartfelt blessing: May all your wives and daughters be kidnapped by pirates, may all your sons look like the slaves next door, may you find maggots in your food, urine in your water, and may you dream of our horses' hooves and boots trampling on your faces!
If you've got the guts, come out and fight! If not, keep cowering behind your black walls like turtles! We're waiting on the banks of the Lorne River to skin you alive and make boots for you!
I'll mention Pierre Mode (I'm too lazy to waste my breath on you guys, but that old bastard Vito insisted on writing it down).
P.S.: Grandpa Sevita adds one more thing—the beard of the governor of Valantis looks exactly like the testicle hair of the male goat I slaughtered yesterday!
"Great, write it like that!" After reading it aloud with satisfaction, Sevita asked Vito, "What do you think?"
""
Vito, barely suppressing a laugh, shoved the letter into the chest of a prisoner: "Fantastic! Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it infuriates those elders!"
"Then let's add one more thing—uh, right, if you get so angry you die, don't blame us. Go ahead and write us a similar letter! Yes, that's it!"
After Vito finished writing, Sevita grabbed the letter and enthusiastically scribbled on it. At the end of the letter, he drew an extremely crude and sarcastic picture:
A simple "White Army" flag is stuck on an object that looks like a tortoise shell, next to which is a graffiti resembling male genitalia.
"Exquisite! Yes, that's why the Drowned God created us!" he said with a grin.
"Is there anything better than this?"
Finally, they reached the end of the long bridge, and Tiberius gripped the saddle with both hands, trying his best to project a "victorious" image.
At the end of the long bridge, a cavalryman struggled to plant a White Legion flag on a pile of rubble and ruins.
Although this is still far from a real city gate, this symbolic gesture is enough.
Immediately afterwards, Tiberius (the young "Northern Envoy"), Lisanro (son of Governor Lys), Sevita (the self-proclaimed "First Ironborn of the Iron Islands"), and Jules, whom his subordinates fanatically regarded as the "First War God of Essos," rode to the bridge. They captured a Valentis prisoner who had lost his eye and a hand in the chaos, and he would deliver the "meticulously crafted" letter to the enemy.
"Tiberius, what should we do next? Should we give a speech or something?" Lisanlo tilted his head, a mix of heroic ambition and cautiousness gripping his heart tightly.
"What kind of speech are you talking about! We're leaving in a minute—but don't look panicked, keep a calm expression, but make sure the horse is fast!"
After planting their flag and humiliating the enemy, the Jules Legion showed no hesitation and immediately sped westward along the north bank of the Loren River like a gust of wind.
Their objective was clear: to take advantage of the chaos within Valantis and the time gap before the main force had fully returned to defend, to quickly disengage, head north, and then west, to seek a new opportunity to return to the disputed territory, or at least find a favorable position to rest and observe.
"Believe me, Uncle!" Tiberius couldn't help but smile when he talked about this.
"When our victorious and invincible General Marcus returns to Valantis, he will not be greeted by the cheers of the people or the praise of the Senate! On the contrary, he will be met with a chaotic city, a Senate filled with powerless rage after being insulted, and a mob of sailors who will become even more rampant in the chaos!"
"So, this will buy us time?" Jules asked, frowning.
“That’s right, Uncle.” Tiberius snapped his fingers. “The wrangling, suppressing rebellions, and dealing with the open and covert political attacks alone are enough to tie the hands of this great general, and that’s our opportunity.”
Of course, despite Tiberius's boastful talk, before that, they had to do something very important.
run away.
What else? Wait for Marcus to come back with his army and crush them like bedbugs?
However, the long-term horseback marches were unbearable for Sevita, who was used to the rocking of the waves.
He lay sprawled on the saddle, grimacing, groaning in pain with every jolt.
"Damn it! Captain! I've had the worst luck ever!" he complained to Tiberius beside him, who was equally exhausted but seemed to be able to endure more.
"Captain, my ass and thighs are practically ground to a pulp! Running a horse on land is fucking more deadly than steering a ship in a storm! I feel like a damned Dothraki horseman instead of an Ironborn! By the God of Drowning, when will I ever see the sea again?!"
His screams echoed through the northward-rushing column, adding a touch of dark humor to this expedition filled with miracles, madness, and hardship. Ahead lay the unknown northern lands and the return journey still shrouded in the fog of war.