It took Luke seven days to incorporate all the Westerlands armies. Including the previous garrison of Harrenhal, the total ca to twenty-eight thousand n.
From these twenty-eight thousand, he selected eight thousand "elites" with strict criteria: no older than twenty-five, no disabilities, no infectious diseases, no flat feet… There were also clear requirents for height and weight, directly following the "physical examination standards" of the Jaqenion Family Guard.
These eight thousand were imdiately incorporated into the National Defense Army.
The rest remained under the command of their original noble lords.
Every ten n ford a squad, every fifty a platoon, every two hundred a company, every six hundred a battalion, and every eighteen hundred a regint.
Noble lords were assigned ranks based on their original troop numbers: those with more than eighteen hundred n beca regintal commanders, those with more than six hundred beca battalion commanders, and so on, rounded down. The highest rank allowed was regintal commander.
For every company, Luke assigned a deputy company commander, a political instructor, and a political commissar. Every squad received an instructor.
Each noble was allowed to keep no more than two hundred "personal guards" — that is, one company — as the soldiers they could take back to their own lands and command freely.
The wages and benefits for these "personal guards" had to be borne by the lord himself. Each year, the lord was required to pay the full amount to the Ministry of National Defense, which would then distribute the salaries to the soldiers or cover their benefits!
In total, eleven regints were ford, but only three noble lords qualified as regintal commanders. The rest beca battalion commanders. For the vacant regintal commander positions, Luke directly appointed his own people!
At first, many Westerlands nobles were unhappy with Luke directly stripping them of their military authority.
Luke had no patience to argue with them. He used spiritual power to grab the throats of those who opposed him, lifted them into the air, and slamd them hard against the walls.
He activated his "Charm" skill and looked coldly at the Westerlands nobles: "I am not asking for your opinion. I am informing you. Your positions as regintal or battalion commanders are only temporary. If you fail to et the assessnt standards within two years… all positions will be revoked."
Afterward, he t with the Westerlands nobles one by one and planted spiritual imprints in the minds of all the lords and their heirs.
This was an insurance asure. As long as they harbored disloyal thoughts, he could take their lives at any mont.
That day, at the North Gate of Harrenhal.
A huge square had already been cleared here. Now it was packed with people.
From the sky, there were twenty-five squares. Each square was a "regint," roughly four thousand n.
The formations were neat, the ranks precise, the spacing uniform.
Everyone wore the armor and standard weapons of House Jaqenion.
Luke had ordered all Westerlands armor replaced. The "discarded" armor was handed over to the newly established "Farm Tool Processing Factory" in Harrenhal, where blacksmiths would turn them into farming tools.
This was a simple "military parade." The square, the city gates, and the walls were crowded with spectators.
Refugees from Harrenhal, rchants who had rushed over from Draco, farrs from nearby villages… a black sea of heads stretched as far as the eye could see.
Under the gaze of the entire crowd, Luke stepped into empty air and walked out from the city wall. He did not summon his "flaming six wings." He walked forward step by step, then downward, as if descending a staircase.
But there was nothing beneath him — only empty space.
With every step he took, a faint ripple spread through the air, as if he were stepping on an invisible surface of water.
"Divine miracle!"
"Divine miracle! The Son of God has descended!"
"King Luke!"
Soldiers and civilians erupted in excited cheers. The noise was deafening.
Their faces flushed red as they raised their right hands at a forty-five-degree angle above their heads.
So were saluting, so were trying to touch whether it was real, so knelt and cried. It was a fervor surging from the depths of their hearts, impossible to suppress.
Luke stopped in mid-air and raised his hand to quiet the crowd.
His voice, amplified through the speakers, rang out clearly and powerfully. Every word seed etched into people's hearts: "Warriors of the Westerlands, I, Luke Jaqenion, promise you all — all who follow will share in the glory of House Jaqenion and the glory of the Seven Gods!"
"All who pledge loyalty to and shed blood and sweat for House Jaqenion will receive the rewards you deserve — land, houses, wealth, and… honor!"
The square fell silent for a mont. Then the Westerlands soldiers — young and old — beca extrely excited, their faces flushed.
Because King Luke had promised:
All soldiers who joined House Jaqenion would have food, clothing, housing, and transport fully covered. Starting salary was twenty silver coins per month, with a settlent allowance of one hundred silver coins paid imdiately.
For every enemy killed in service to His Grace, a reward of sixty silver coins.
If unfortunately killed in battle, a lump sum of at least one thousand silver coins would be paid, and their underage children would receive a monthly living allowance of five silver coins until they reached adulthood.
In addition to these benefits, there were houses and farmland to be granted, along with other hidden perks.
They had truly received real silver. Every man was given one hundred silver coins on the spot. Those from the previous Harrenhal garrison who had already received ten silver coins were given the remaining ninety to make up the full amount.
The heavy silver coins in their hands — so bit them with their teeth to check if they were real.
So turned the coins over and over, examining the clear dragon emblem of House Jaqenion on them — the patterns were so sharp they looked freshly cast from a mold rather than hamred out one strike at a ti.
From next month onward, they would receive a monthly salary.
These hard-bitten n only learned today that soldiers could actually receive pay.
So held the silver coins with trembling hands.
So counted the coins again and again — once, twice, three tis.
So pressed the coins to their chests, closed their eyes, and moved their lips, whispering words no one could hear.
"Waaah…" In the crowd, soone burst into tears.
It was a forty-year-old veteran with a scar running from his forehead to his chin.
He had been a soldier for twenty years, serving three different lords and fighting countless battles.
He had never received a single coin of pay… never!
Every ti the lord said "after this battle," there was never an "after."
Now he held a pouch containing one hundred silver coins. The coins were cold, but in his palm they felt like fire.
He had never seen so much money in his life!
"Long live King Luke!" Soone shouted first.
Then ca the second, the tenth, the hundredth, the thousandth…
The sound spread outward from the center of the square like a wave, surging in all directions.
"Long live King Luke!"
"Long live King Luke!"
To push the emotion to an even higher peak, Luke raised his hand. Flas surged from his palm and shot into the sky.
Those flas coalesced high above into giant statues.
The Father, stern and majestic, eyes like torches, holding a set of scales.
The Mother, kind and compassionate, hands folded over her chest, a rciful smile on her lips.
The Warrior, clad in armor, sword in hand, gazing firmly into the distance.
The Smith, muscles bulging, hamr in hand, forging sothing.
The Maiden, delicate and beautiful, holding a bouquet of flowers, head slightly lowered.
The Crone, lantern in hand, hunched over, as if searching for sothing.
The Stranger, face obscured, cloaked, standing at the back.
Seven statues, each five ters tall, incredibly lifelike.
Their eyes blinked — they really blinked. Their robes fluttered in the wind — they really fluttered.
They stood behind Luke like seven guardian deities, looking down upon the people of this land.
The square fell silent.
It was not an oppressive silence, but the kind where people held their breath, afraid to disturb the gods. So knelt, so clasped their hands together, so wept.
This scene would later be called by historians "The Descent of the Seven Gods." This day would also be known as "Main God Festival," becoming an important statutory holiday in the future empire.
After incorporating the Westerlands army, Luke imdiately ordered the forces to split into three routes.
The first route: Marcus would lead ten thousand n to relieve Riverrun.
At this mont, three thousand soldiers of House Frey from the Twins were besieging Riverrun. The defenders of Riverrun numbered fewer than one thousand. To make matters worse, Lord Edmure Tully of Riverrun had been captured at the Red Wedding and was now in the hands of the Freys. The situation was critical.
After relieving Riverrun, Marcus would lead the army deep into the Westerlands, attack Casterly Rock, and subdue the entire Westerlands!
The second route: Bronn would lead ten thousand n to incorporate all noble forces throughout the Riverlands.
Luke demanded that all nobles submit unconditionally. Otherwise, their entire houses would be exterminated without exception. At the sa ti, he ordered Bronn to suppress all "bandit forces" and "wildling tribes" within the Riverlands. Anyone who refused to submit would have their entire clan wiped out!
The third route: Mars would lead fifteen thousand n to remain and guard Harrenhal, while recruiting and training new soldiers to expand Harrenhal's garrison to twenty thousand n.
There was also a fourth route: Luke would personally lead five thousand n to attack the Twins.
In addition, Luke ordered Draco to expand recruitnt. Currently, Draco's garrison consisted of one thousand Unsullied, two thousand National Defense Army soldiers, and five thousand new recruits in reserve.
He instructed the Ministry of National Defense to recruit another five thousand reserves this year. At the sa ti, he ordered the opening of north and south ports on the God's Eye to promote goods circulation and accelerate population transfer. Ferry tickets would also increase revenue and tax collection.
The first cooperation project between Draco and Harrenhal was the "North Shore Port Project."
After issuing all the orders, the generals dispersed.
Luke stood alone at the top of the Tower of the Burning King. The three baby dragons fluttered around him.
Little Black landed on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. Little Cyan hung from his arm, already asleep. Little White lay on top of his head, its tail hanging down and swaying in front of his forehead.
He looked north.
In the direction of the Twins, House Frey. That old fox Walder Frey was probably still in his bridge castle, dreaming of becoming the new Warden of the Riverlands.\\
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