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The Magnar clan occupied the largest territory in the center. After Torren issued the order, other settlements also began to gather young and middle-aged men. Over the past few days, people had been continuously arriving at the King's Hall.

To Torren's surprise, in the end, there were less than three thousand five hundred people. In recent years, the Magnar clan's losses had been greater than he had imagined. Helpless, he pulled out those forty- and fifty-year-old geezers from the tribe, and with the addition of the Bolton family's soldiers, he barely managed to scrape together a four-thousand-strong army.

As soon as the troops were assembled, Torren immediately ordered an attack. Torren had no choice; so many people ate way too much. If he delayed for too long, the granary would be empty, and it was likely that even the clan's winter rations would not be secured.

As soon as the Magnar clan took action, Liu Yuan received the news. During this time, the legion soldiers, in cooperation with the clan's hunters, swept through the entire northern and western parts of Skagos Island, and cleared out a large number of Magnar's raiding parties and scattered poachers. These totaled more than five hundred people. Only some of them were killed on the spot, and the rest were captured and taken back, where they were now carrying wood.

Now that the Magnars had begun to assemble, Liu Yuan also decided to eliminate them all at once. He mobilized two thousand five hundred soldiers and drew two thousand strong men from the vassal tribes. All of them were experienced hunters with good combat effectiveness. Both sides set the predetermined battlefield at the foot of the Dogger Mountains in the center, which thousands of years ago was a dry lake, with flat terrain covered with fine pebbles and devoid of vegetation.

It had just rained a few days ago, and the humidity was heavy. A faint mist rose in the early morning. "Roar, roar, roar...", "Roar, roar, roar...", "Roar, roar, roar..." Waves of roars accompanied by chaotic footsteps, countless figures appeared here.

Torren Magnar, draped in a bearskin, looked at the surrounding clansmen, and he felt a little hesitant. There had not been such a large-scale war on Skagos Island for hundreds of years, and he didn't know how many of those clansmen would die here. His gaze turned to the opposite side. The island was not large, and he knew that the other party was aware that he had assembled a large force and would definitely respond accordingly. He could estimate that the two major clans could probably scrape together two thousand people, plus those pirates. Even if each ship could carry two hundred people, that would only be a thousand. His side still had a good chance of winning.

As the sun rose higher, the fog gradually dissipated. "Dong!" An abrupt drum sound broke the silence here. "Dong, dong dong! Dong, dong dong! Dong, dong dong!" The war drums thundered, and countless figures emerged through the mountains and forests.

Torren's eyes suddenly widened. The enemies at the very front were black-armored soldiers that he had never seen before. They were fully armed, with helmets, armor, war skirts, arm guards, and leg guards, all complete. The raised spears gleamed with cold light, and the large shields almost covered their entire bodies. The most terrifying thing was that there were as many as fifteen or sixteen hundred such soldiers.

Behind these spearmen, new enemies appeared. Their identities were obvious. Each person held a uniquely shaped large bow, and they were also fully armored. What appeared next were the warriors of the two major clans. Their clothing was messy, and their weapons were even more varied.

Torren's heart sank. The number of people on the opposite side was clearly greater than his own, and nearly half of them were those black-armored warriors. Although he didn't know where they came from, they definitely couldn't be pirates. He had been in control of the clan for so many years, and he naturally knew what kind of price it would take to train such an army. Even in King's Landing, only some great nobles, great nobles with long heritages, had the ability to do so.

Coupled with the intervention of the Bolton family that led to chaos on the island, they, the Skagosi, had become victims of those lords' struggles. But now he had no way out. Hatred had already been sown. Either become the ultimate winner, or die. With a wave of his hand, the crowd behind him scattered, revealing the Bolton soldiers in the middle. Bailey walked forward, gnashing his teeth. The Magnar warriors around them held their spears, pointing directly at their backs. He understood that Torren was preparing to have them at the very front. Only by fighting hard would they have a chance to survive. Bailey glared at Torren fiercely and said, "Remember your promise, or Lord Bolton will not let you go."

Torren: "I swear in the name of the ancestors of the Magnar clan! You can go in peace! Attack!" He raised his sword and pointed directly at the opposite side.

Bailey put down his mask, struck his sword against his shield, and shouted: "Brothers, for the honor of the Bolton family! Think of your families, pick up your weapons, do you see the scum on the opposite side? Kill them all!" Perhaps because he was encouraged by him, or perhaps because the Bolton family's punishments were too frightening, they all howled and charged forward.

The warriors at the very front of the Magnar people came out, and they vigorously shook the slings in their right hands. The sling was a hunting tool of the islanders, and also an ancient weapon. It was simple in structure and easy to use. Two leather straps of equal length were tied together in the middle with a pouch, and a stone was placed in the pouch. The ends of the straps were grasped and swung rapidly over the head. When the speed reached its maximum on the fourth or fifth swing, one end of the strap was released, and the stone in the pouch would be thrown out in the direction of the tangent.

However, when the sling was used as a weapon, its effect was not very obvious due to its low accuracy. Usually, it was a volley of a hundred or more people to carry out a coverage strike. Amidst the whistling sound, the stones on the leather covers were thrown out. Egg-sized pebbles flew out a distance of one hundred and sixty or seventy meters, which was even farther than the range of many bows and arrows.

Experienced hunters could achieve an initial velocity of 50 to 70 meters per second using a sling. At this speed, the stone bullets could cause considerable damage even when hitting armored targets. The stones used were also processed, polished smooth, and the round stones flew in a straighter and more stable path. Nowadays, the dry riverbed was full of ammunition.

The heavy infantry immediately formed a shield wall similar to a tortoise shell formation with their large tower shields, and the flying stones were deflected as soon as they landed on it. But it was hard to say for the people behind. The cavalrymen who were temporarily acting as archers had small round shields to protect themselves. Those clansmen were a bit miserable, being hit with bloody heads and screaming. Of course, they would not just passively take a beating, and they picked up the stones on the ground and counterattacked with slings. Isn't it just throwing stones? They were all hunters, who wouldn't know how? The sling shots of both sides collided in mid-air, smashing out bursts of powder.

Under the unified command, the cavalrymen raised their riding bows and retaliated, "Buzz... Buzz, buzz, buzz... Buzz, buzz" A rain of arrows rose into the air. Since the opposite side was mostly unarmored targets, they used arc arrows or chisel-shaped arrows.

The bodkin arrow is a hunting arrow type, with a wide and thin arrowhead that is extremely sharp. Its shape varies, like a shovel, a knife, or a spear. The arrow shaft is very long for easy launching, and it is a sharp weapon for breaking faces and severing throats, with great lethality. Being hit by this kind of arrow would result in facial disfigurement at best, and fatal throat severance at worst.