Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 184 The Smiling Tree Knight - A Dazzling Debut

As the competition progressed, the arena for spear fighting became increasingly empty, and those who remained on the list were all exceptionally skilled fighters.

Because there were fewer matches, the spear duels in the morning would end early, leaving some free time. So, as soon as the official competition of the day was over, the knights entered the period of free challenges.

Similar to informal recreational matches between games.

The slightly serious atmosphere in the air was immediately replaced by a relaxed feeling and an anticipation full of unknown possibilities.

Euron Greyjoy, who had just advanced, was about to turn and leave when a sudden commotion caught his attention.

A mysterious challenger rode into the arena, his bizarre appearance instantly igniting a buzz of discussion among the crowd.

The man was quite short, wearing a makeshift, ill-fitting suit of armor. The armor plates were mottled and faded.

The unevenness and the rough, crooked joints suggest that it was hastily pieced together from some forgotten corner of a warehouse.

What is most striking is the shield in his hand—it is painted with a pale weirwood tree in bright colors, while a grinning human face is carved in the center of the trunk, which is strange and a little comical.

He was given the title "Smiling Tree Knight" almost without hesitation.

The Smiling Tree Knight reined in his horse and stood in the center of the field, showing no fear, and began to challenge each of them loudly.

Seeing this, Youlun's lips curled up slightly. He simply crossed his arms and stood there, deciding to watch the show before leaving.

The Laughing Tree Knight's first challenge was Sir Donald Hay in the stands—his family crest was a black pitchfork with gold stripes on a brown background.

The challenge was set, and the two riders clashed.

In just a few rounds, the Smiling Tree Knight deftly thrust his lance forward, and Sir Hay fell from his horse.

The Laughing Tree Knight did not stop, turning his spear towards Sir Cameron Braun—whose coat of arms consisted of two black porcupines on a green background—and defeated Cameron Braun in a single exchange.

Before the cheers from the stands had even subsided, the Laughing Tree Knight pointed his lance at Sir Dostoevsky Frey—whose coat of arms was a pair of blue towers on a silver background—and after several rounds, knocked Frey flying to the ground.

The Smiling Tree Knight was unexpectedly agile and had a tricky marksmanship, defeating the three knights one after another, drawing gasps and cheers from the stands.

According to ancient tradition, the victor has the right to win the loser's horse and armor, while the loser usually only needs to pay a symbolic ransom to redeem them. However, the Smiling Tree Knight had no interest in gold coins. Sitting on his horse, facing the three disheveled losers, his voice, muffled through his mask, carried an undeniable authority: "I don't want your money." He declared, "I saw your squires bullying the weak in the forest. You must go back and discipline your squires, teach them what true chivalry is! When you have done so, come back to me to redeem your equipment."

This unusual request initially caused a stir, which then sparked laughter from the audience.

The three knights, feeling ashamed and embarrassed in front of everyone, immediately summoned their servants to the sidelines and questioned them sternly.

After confirming that it was true, they did not hesitate to publicly whip the servants, as if all the humiliation was caused by these subordinates.

The spectators in the stands regarded this unexpected incident as a wonderful farce, watching with great interest and bursting into laughter.

Among the crowd, Holland Reed stared blankly at the arena, dumbfounded. He had helped find that ill-fitting armor, and he had watched Lyanna paint the comical smiley face on the shield. She had jokingly said she would "restore his honor," and he had thought it was just a joke. He never imagined she would actually do it, and even defeat three knights in succession!

However, amidst the sea of ​​joy, King Iris II, who sat high on the throne, had a face so dark it seemed to drip water. His eyes, burning with suspicion and anger, were fixed on the short, comical figure in the center of the room, as if trying to see through the ridiculous mask to reveal the true face hidden beneath.

Prince Rhaegar, however, had a faint smile playing on his lips. He recognized the Smiling Tree who had defeated the three knights, and he also recognized the wild, lively, and stubborn eyes beneath the mask.

Lyanna Stark!

Despite being a woman, she displayed extraordinary strength. Her dashing figure as she rode her horse and brandished her spear, her pure heart upholding justice, and her bold and dignified character that rivaled any man's were like a sharp arrow that struck Réga's heart.

He had been hesitant about something, but at this moment he finally made up his mind.

Euron saw Rhaegar's smile and the change in his expression, and knew that Prince Rhaegar must have also recognized the Knight of the Laughing Tree's true identity.

Just then, Chancellor of the Exchequer Colton Chester stepped forward and whispered in King Aerys II's ear, "That Laughing Tree Knight is very likely Jaime Lannister. Jaime must be unhappy with your decision, so he secretly returned, donned a mask, and participated in the tournament in this unconventional way. And Tywin's sudden departure this morning might have been to discuss some conspiracy with Jaime."

King Aerys II, seated high on the throne, leaned slightly forward, his right hand already raised, preparing to order the strange, smiling tree knight to step forward and remove his mask. However, before he could utter the command, his gaze swept across the arena again, and he froze—the center of the arena, which had just been the focus of everyone's attention, was now completely empty!

While everyone's attention was drawn to the farce of the three knights whipping their squires, the comical "Smiling Tree Knight" silently turned his horse around and, like a ghost disappearing into the shadows, galloped off the edge of the arena without hesitation, vanishing in the blink of an eye into the endless camps and crowds.

He left behind only a little dust and the lingering noise of the crowd.

This scene was like cold grease poured into a raging fire, instantly igniting the suspicion and anger churning within Iris II. He slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair, the veins on his withered hand bulging.

"Rhaegar!" The king's roar drowned out the noise, his voice trembling with extreme rage. "Take men and capture that cowardly rat! I want to see his mask torn off! I want to know if that arrogant face of Jaime Lannister is truly hidden beneath it!"

His icy gaze was fixed on the prince, each word seemingly ground out from between his teeth: "If it really is him—if Tywin's son dares to mock the royal family like this, I will make him, I will make his entire family pay a heavy price!"

Prince Rhaegar, upon receiving the order, did not hesitate and immediately rode off with a few trusted knights. Euron Greyjoy narrowed his eyes and silently blended into the shadows of the crowd, like a seal slipping into deep water, following closely behind.

He followed Réga and his party straight to the grove outside Harrenhal—the very place where Holland Reed had been bullied by those three servants.

The forest was dappled with sunlight, quiet and deserted, with only the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Soon, they saw the figure.

Lyanna Stark stood awkwardly beneath a tall oak tree, her back to where she had come from, struggling to unfasten the straps of her ill-fitting armor. But the rough clasps seemed to be deliberately defying her, remaining firmly in place no matter how hard she tried. She muttered under her breath, a hint of exasperation in her voice, completely oblivious to the commotion behind her.

Réga raised his hand to stop his entourage, dismounted alone, and quietly stepped forward.

"Do you need any help?" His voice suddenly rang out, gentle yet startling Lyanna.

She turned around abruptly, her face instantly flushing red, like a child caught doing something wrong. A hint of panic flashed in her eyes, and she opened her mouth but didn't know what to say.

Regard didn't ask any questions, but simply walked up behind her naturally, his fingers deftly fumbling with the stubborn buckle. "Don't move," he said softly, his tone devoid of reproach, but rather filled with an indescribable patience. With a few soft clicks, the armor that had been bothering her for so long finally loosened.

The heavy breastplate was removed, revealing various strips of cloth stuffed bulging underneath to fill the space. The scene was somewhat comical, yet it also conveyed a heartbreaking stubbornness.

Lyanna stretched her finally freed shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief, but then immediately became wary again, as if remembering her "crime." She raised her chin, trying to maintain her Stark-like toughness: "What are you doing here?"

Rhaegar laughed, "The king sent me to capture you and take you back. He wants to see what kind of conspiracy is hidden behind the mask."

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Lyanna scoffed, "A conspiracy? I only went up there to fight, I didn't kill anyone or set anything on fire, why are you arresting me?"

Rhaegar, observing her feigned composure, a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes, but his tone remained calm: "Your impersonation of a knight is a violation of the rules. Moreover, His Majesty the King is furious. He believes—the Smiling Tree Knight—is Jaime Lannister, a challenge to his authority."

He paused, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret: "If he discovers that the one stirring up this storm and making him so suspicious is actually a young lady, he'll probably be more than just surprised."

Lyanna's courage seemed to wane somewhat. She looked at Rhaegar, and for the first time, uncertainty flickered in her wolf-like eyes: "So—are you going to take me back now?"

Rega didn't answer directly. He simply shook his head slowly, then walked over to her, casually leaned against the oak trunk, and sat down, patting the grass beside him.

The sunlight and shadows in the woods danced on his silver-gold hair. Rhaegar looked up at her, his gaze complex and deep, and began to whisper something to her, his voice as soft as a whisper. The words dissipated in the wind, and only Lyanna's gradually calming expression suggested that it was not a harsh rebuke.

In the distance, Euron, hidden behind the bushes, took in all of this.

He sighed inwardly, but a cryptic smile curved his lips. He then turned around and vanished silently into the depths of the dense forest, just as he had come, leaving the space entirely to the unexpected pair of conversation partners.

Time passed much longer than anyone expected, and when Prince Rhaegar finally reappeared at the edge of the arena, all eyes were on him.

He returned alone, without the short, comical "Smiling Tree Knight" behind him. Almost at the same moment, the sharp-eyed Euron also noticed that Lyanna Stark was keeping her head down, quietly slipping back to her seat from the edge of the crowd, as if she had never left.

Lyanna Stark winked at Howland Reed and flashed a victory sign. Seeing that Lyanna was alright, Howland Reed smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

Regga walked steadily toward the platform, carrying only a haphazard, dusty suit of armor and a shield made of weirwood painted with a smiling face. The empty armor silently proclaimed the failure of the capture operation.

He placed the armor before him and calmly reported, "Your Majesty, I have failed to capture the Smiling Tree Knight. This man is cunning—"

"Extremely cunning, he has already abandoned his armor and fled; these are all we found."

King Iris II's gaze shifted from the broken pieces of iron to his son's calm face, but the silence lasted only a moment before it was shattered by a thunderous rage.

"Useless!" The king abruptly rose from his iron throne, his body trembling slightly with extreme rage. His roar shattered the brief silence of the hall. "You couldn't even capture a cowardly clown who dares not show his true face! Were the guards you brought merely for show? Or were you simply going through the motions for your king, your father?!"

His angry shouts were like whips, lashing the stagnant air and striking the faces of every nobleman present.

Everyone held their breath and lowered their eyes, not daring to look directly at the king's anger, much less at the prince's expression.

"A complete junk!" Iris kicked the armor, making a loud, clanging sound. "What I want is the face behind the mask! The confession of a shameless scoundrel! Is this how you repay my orders? Where is your ability? Where is your loyalty?!"

Réga stood beneath his father's fury, his long, silver-gold hair fluttering slightly in the wind. He did not defend himself, but simply bowed his head, enduring the public and humiliating rebuke.

On the platform, Lyanna Stark clenched her fists. She gazed at the silver-haired figure on the high platform, bearing the king's thunderous wrath alone, her wolf-like eyes burning with fury and resentment. Every vicious rebuke from Aerys II felt like a whip lashing her heart, making her yearn to rush up and silence the mad king in the manner of the North.

She could almost picture herself drawing her dagger, rushing up the platform, and smashing that ridiculous suit of armor into the king's face—but she forced herself to suppress the impulse, which manifested only as the stinging pain of her nails digging deep into her palms.

At the same time, a burning sense of shame quietly welled up in her heart, extinguishing some of her anger and making her somewhat restless.

The humiliation Prince Réga was experiencing stemmed precisely from her willful and reckless "game." She had fought for honor, yet she had caused others to suffer unjust accusations and bear the consequences for her. This realization made her feel ashamed, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her previous self-righteousness vanished without a trace, leaving only a complex mix of gratitude, guilt, and immense resentment churning within her.

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