Game of Thrones: The Wrath of the Sleeping Dragon

Then, with the other person's numb gaze, he forcefully slashed downwards, and blood spurted out instantly.

thump--

The corpse's knees buckled, losing all its strength, and it collapsed into the mud.

The lame knight killed the soldier, staggered slightly, and then used his sword to prop himself up on the ground.

The breastplate, dented by the javelin, rose and fell slightly as he panted heavily, his golden hair clinging to his face with sweat.

The black cloth covering the lame knight's face had long since fallen away.

However, he no longer cares.

Panic-stricken shouts could be heard not far away, and a vague figure kept looking back before disappearing into the woods through the hills and vanishing without a trace.

It was a brutal battle, with deserters on both sides unable to withstand the pressure. They underestimated the morale and strength of the Red Keep Guard and paid the price.

When the battle reached a stalemate and the plan was clearly not going to work, the lame knight actually wanted to retreat.

However, his broken leg became an obstacle to his escape.

The deserters did not take their 'adult,' who had clearly become a burden, with them; instead, they abandoned him and scattered.

Now, on the entire battlefield, apart from a few men lying on the ground, severely wounded and unable to escape, only a few guards from the Red Keep are left leaning against trees, groaning in pain.

Then.

The Red Keep instructor once again struggled to his feet, leaning on his sword.

On the entire battlefield, only he and he were still able to stand up.

The blond, lame knight's sharp, hawk-like eyes showed signs of weariness; he knew that since being abandoned by his men, he probably had little chance of survival.

Unless he can kill everyone here with his last breath, including Queen Leila, who is trembling inside the carriage...

At that moment, the lame knight seemed to realize something, his vision blurred slightly, and he rubbed his forehead.

Only then did he see clearly that there was a silver-blonde-haired boy standing next to William Darryl, covered in mud and blood, holding a sword in his arms. It was he who had helped Sir William up.

"So there was another man here."

The lame knight, leaning on his sword, chuckled to himself.

...

Not far away.

The middle-aged coach's slightly curly hair clung tightly to his cheeks, one hand clutching his ribs, and he felt a wave of dizziness.

This is a precursor to excessive blood loss.

However, he still recognized who was the mastermind behind the attack; the lame knight had already removed the black cloth from his face.

Kevan Lannister!

"It turned out to be you!"

The blond, lame knight looked somewhat old, but he was actually only in his thirties. He had deep-set eyes, long nasolabial folds, and a short, neatly trimmed blond beard, though he looked rather disheveled at the moment.

William's lips trembled slightly; he certainly recognized who the person in front of him was.

He is the younger brother of the famous Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, and the uncle of Jaime Lannister, who is now serving as a member of the Kingsguard to His Majesty the King.

"So the Lannisters have betrayed the Iron Throne!"

Sir William's voice betrayed his shock.

If the Lannisters have decided to betray the Iron Throne, then King's Landing may truly be in danger.

Before they even set off, the Western Army had already marched toward King's Landing under the banner of defending the king.

If King Aerys II were to order the gates opened and the western army to enter King's Landing, this city, which had never been breached from the outside, would likely fall from within.

Moreover, His Majesty the King also has Jaime Lannister by his side.

Sir William.

"Why don't we each take a step back?"

Kevan Lannister didn't care at all about being recognized. He was in a terrible situation and could only beg for his life. Nothing else mattered.

Kevan leaned on his sword with one hand and raised the other slightly, trying to make his words sound more sincere.

There are very few hotheads in the Lannister family; perhaps they have a flexible and adaptable gene in their blood, after all, everyone knows who the Lannister ancestors were.

Now trapped in this stalemate, Kefon has not given up hope of survival.

However, he did not try to persuade the instructor to surrender, because both sides knew that it was impossible. If the instructor wanted to surrender, he could have done so long ago, instead of fighting to this extent.

So he wanted both sides to compromise.

Don't be fooled by the fact that the other side has Queen Leila, several maids, and a little boy.

But Kevan had received rigorous training since childhood and was skilled in combat. Several women and a boy posed no threat to him. He could kill these women and children one by one, even though he was lame.

The only threat to him is the Red Keep coach, who is severely injured and in a much worse condition than himself.

He heard what the lame knight, whom Sir William called Kevan Lannister, was saying.

Viserys felt a little nervous and looked up at the man beside him.

"impossible!"

However, Sir William, with one hand covering his ribs and his face pale, resolutely refused.

He couldn't let them go; otherwise, once Kevon gathered up the deserters, it would be them who would die.

He then looked at Viserys, who was standing beside him, and spoke.

"Child, do you remember what I just taught you?"

Learn to use the sharp end to stab the enemy.

Viserys nodded heavily, holding his sword.

"follow me!"

Then, the middle-aged instructor, supporting himself with one hand on his sword, staggered step by step toward Kevon.

Knowing that the other party was determined and that he was lame in one leg and could not outrun them, Kefon resolutely drew his longsword to meet the challenge.

The two once noble knights now resembled two wounded, hungry wolves, staggering and writhing in the rain and blood as they fought.

Chapter 9 Twilight Valley City

clang--

Under the crimson sunset, two longswords clashed violently, sparks flying.

The longsword, already dulled by the previous blows, was now bearing another old scar, and Sir William staggered, nearly falling to the ground.

Kevon seized the opportunity, dragging his broken leg as he lunged forward and delivered a heavy punch to the coach's face with his other hand.

bang——

The man with slightly curly hair was a little dizzy from the punch, with blood in his mouth and his teeth slightly loose. He fell to the ground on his back.

"die!"

Kevan tried to seize the opportunity to finish off the enemy, but he was caught off guard and tripped by William's foot, falling to the ground and dropping his sword.

The two men, covered in blood and mud, crawled and fought, while the surrounding battlefield fell into silence, save for the brutal fistfight between the two and the faint groans of the dying man.

The crimson sunset enveloped the entire avenue, and a gentle breeze carried away the thick, pungent smell of blood from the air, drifting into the distance. Carrion birds circled overhead, emitting mournful cries.

No one knew that such a fierce battle had taken place here.

Meanwhile, Viserys, holding his longsword, finally seized his opportunity.

Without harming Sir William...

It pierced through the gap in Kevan Lannister's armor from behind and stabbed him hard.

"Go to hell!"

puff--

The silver-gold-haired boy charged forward with a sword, delivering a fatal blow to Kevan. The sword tip pierced the knight's chest without resistance, leaving a trail of bright red blood dripping from the tip.

This knight from House Lannister, a veteran of countless battles, had participated in the War of the Ninepenny Kings and distinguished himself in battle, but unexpectedly, he ended up dying at the hands of a child.

Then, the body lost all its strength, its knees buckled, and it collapsed to the ground.

puff--

Viserys, panting heavily, drew his longsword.

What he didn't notice was that after he killed Kevan, a wisp of black smoke, invisible to others, traveled along his longsword, from Kevan's body into his palm, and a warm current flowed throughout his body.

The boy, panting heavily, then drew his sword and slashed it into Kevon's neck.

Fearing he hadn't killed the man, he tried to chop off Kevan's head as well, but due to insufficient strength, the sword ended up stuck halfway inside the corpse's neck.

Blood spilled out, staining the entire land red.

Kevan Lannister was already dead beyond any doubt.

thump--

Viserys finally put down his sword and sat down heavily on the ground, his chest heaving violently.

From witnessing the battlefield up close to personally killing someone with a sword, he progressed rapidly in order to survive, forcing himself to run.

Sir William, who was lying sprawled on the ground, nearly beaten to death by Kevan's fists, had a bruised and swollen face and spoke incoherently. He didn't even have the strength to sit up.

"Child, why...why did you do this?"

He watched as Viserys made his final, insane and cruel move.

This seven-year-old child not only had the courage to kill the enemy, but also actually tried to cut off the enemy's head.

The stark contrast of the scene slightly shocked him, once again refreshing his impression of the second Targaryen prince.

"Whenever a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin to decide whether he is great or mad."

For a moment, the coach couldn't tell whether this was the demeanor of a ruthless leader or cruel madness.