Aemon waited for the right moment, then swung his sword to meet his opponent's attack head-on.
In an instant, the green and silver-gray blades collided, producing a crisp sound that echoed throughout the hall.
Clang!
Aemon didn't move an inch, still holding his ground as he prepared to bring his sword down.
Corwin's face changed drastically. He felt the force transmitted by the sword, and his arms went numb from the shock.
However, something surprising happened.
Corwin took several steps back, and the Lady Forlorn in his hand remained intact.
Meanwhile, the rune giant sword raised in the air had a thumb-sized gap on its blade.
Both men in the courtyard were stunned.
"Huh?"
Aemon frowned. This was unexpected.
The rune giant sword was engraved with the "solid" rune, and its durability was comparable to a door panel's.
In the type of confrontation it was designed for, it had actually shattered.
Corwin's eyes were solemn, and his mind was racing.
Valyrian steel is lighter and stronger, and after being forged into a weapon, it is sharper.
In past duels, the Lady Forlorn broke her opponent's longsword several times by taking advantage of the situation.
It was like a ceramic cup falling to the ground and breaking with a snap.
But this time, the rune sword was dull and felt like a layer of cork when it was cut.
"Come again!"
Aemon noticed something was wrong and got serious.
"Ah!"
Corwin shouted, identifying the weakness and attacking fiercely.
He wanted to break his opponent's sword completely.
Clang!
The rune sword fell from the front, and the gap hit the blade of the Lady Forlorn squarely.
As expected, the broken area was larger, and a crack ran through the emerald sword's palm-wide body.
Astonished, Corwin quickly pulled back the Lady Forlorn, which was stuck in the gap.
The opponent did not stop him, as if he had deliberately exposed a flaw.
Aemon's eyes were deep as he repeatedly looked at the rune sword's broken blade.
He had missed it just now, but this time he caught the feeling.
When the two swords collided, subtle changes occurred.
The "Solid" rune worked but broke when it collided with the Lady Forlorn.
"Valyrian steel contains more magic."
After pondering this, Aemon suddenly realized.
The "Solid" rune is a type of magic based on the unique properties of bronze bells.
Its structure is too rough.
Valyrian steel is the painstaking work of countless fire and blood wizards during the peak period of ancient Valyria.
In terms of material and forging technology, it transcends eras.
Ultimately, the ancestors were stronger than the Children of the Forest and giants; the Andals were stronger than the ancestors; and the Valyrians were stronger than all other races.
From this point of view, it is necessary to acquire a Valyrian steel longsword.
Aemon figured it out, a faint smile on his face, but it had no effect.
In any case, he is a two-handed swordsman, and the rune greatsword is merely a substitute.
If it breaks, so be it; the material can still be recast.
He is open-minded.
The onlookers talked about it, saying all kinds of things.
Seeing the situation, Corwin was happy, and an idea came to his mind.
It seems like he can win!
In line with the principle of exploiting his weakness, he rushed forward and swung his sword repeatedly.
Clank! Clank!
Aemon countered his opponent's moves, which were a bit unpleasant.
Although the opponent seemed chivalrous, his fighting style was dirty. Without armor, he couldn't move freely.
In the tournament, he didn't need to defend himself after being pierced by a tin can. He couldn't be exposed in public.
"Prince, I'm sorry."
Corwin played with confidence, found the right opportunity, and slashed at the rune giant sword with thousands of holes.
Lady Forlorn emitted a cold light and shattered it like broken bamboo.
"Get out!"
Aemon remained calm. He bent his knees slightly and swung his sword from the bottom up.
The emerald and silver-gray blades collided in midair.
Clank!
A crisp sound filled his ears. His chest felt stuffy, and a mouthful of fishy sweetness surged into his throat.
His ten fingers twitched violently, and the Lady Forlorn flew out of his hand.
It spun 360 degrees in midair and lodged in the weirwood doorframe of the Moon Gate.
Wow!
The entire audience stared in shock at the still-trembling Lady Forlorn.
The Valyrian steel longsword continued to tremble, emitting a humming sound like water dripping through stone.
"What great strength!"
Jeyne's eyes sparkled.
When Rhaenyra heard this, her face blushed inexplicably.
On the other side, Aemon's eyes were calm as he stared at the half-broken rune sword.
The emerald blade was broken in the middle and covered with large and small gaps.
The other half of the blade had fallen onto the white marble floor in the collision.
"Hoo, hoo, hoo..."
Corwin's pupils trembled as he gasped and pulled out the Lady Forlorn.
His opponent's sword was broken; he must pursue victory.
If he was even a step late, his opponent would have the chance to switch swords.
"If you keep fighting, your hand will be useless."
Aemon looked him up and down with a hint of appreciation in his eyes.
Corwin gritted his teeth; blood ran from his hands as he clutched the hilt.
In the previous collision, his knuckles had cracked, and his bones were vaguely visible.
"Come on."
Corwin looked determined and launched a new attack.
Aemon smiled slightly, threw away the broken rune sword, and took out the "Dragon Tooth" and "Dragon Claw" daggers from his waist.
He also had Valyrian weapons.
"Ah!"
Corwin roared as Lady Forlorn swept across his waist.
Long weapons against short weapons—the advantage was his.
The result was exactly the opposite.
Aemon took a step back and barely avoided the sword to his abdomen. He bent down to go behind his opponent.
Swish!
The shuttle-shaped "Dragon Tooth" dagger thrust forward and cut through the iron ring of the chainmail, leaving a bloody wound.
Corwin groaned in pain, turned around, and raised his long sword.
The hook-shaped "Dragon Claw" pressed down and intercepted the Lady Forlorn halfway.
"You have no chance."
Aemon raised his right hand slightly, and the "Dragon Tooth" cut across, severing the iron ring and leaving a bloody wound on his chest.
"Hiss—"
Corwin took a deep breath and rolled back, his face pale.
By the time he stood up, he was sweating profusely.
That move could have cut his throat.
Aemon was not in a hurry. He turned the dagger with both hands as if it were a flower.
Too naive.
He thought that without the rune giant sword, his strength would decline.
In fact, holding the rune giant sword would limit his flexibility.
With his level of physical fitness, he is strong in everything.
Attacking and defending are easy!
Corwin was sweating profusely, and sweat stained his front and back wounds. He twitched in pain.
But he did not retreat, continuing to look for opportunities.
Orion, who was watching the battle, was flustered and held down his crying sister.
His brother was already the best knight in Heart's Home and had the advantage of the family sword, Lady Forlorn.
The gap was so big.
"Are you admitting defeat?"
Aemon suddenly asked.
There are only three possible outcomes of a trial by combat.
One party dies or surrenders, the plaintiff withdraws the accusation, or the defendant admits guilt.
He likes this guy very much and is willing to give him a chance to live.
"No!"
Corwin's hair was messy, and he shook his head weakly.
Not only was he betting his life, but also his sister's reputation and the honor of the knight.
"You don't have to do this."
Aemon said matter-of-factly. "Miss Martha is innocent. This trial by combat was your brother's attempt to kill Joffrey. Winning or losing does not mean Miss Martha lied."
Although His Royal Highness sometimes has poor taste, he is still very protective of girls.
Who told him to live among women?
Hearing this, Corwin hesitated for a moment and shook his head again. "No!"
He was representing his brother and had no right to surrender.
Besides, he would rather die than lose the Lady Forlorn.
He might die if he didn't surrender.
However, surrendering would be more painful than death.
"I respect you."
Aemon put away the two Valyrian daggers and waved to his opponent.
In a knight's duel, swords must be used.
It is not honorable to die by dagger.
"Prince."
Gunthor drew his two-handed heavy sword and offered it to Aemon.
"No need."
Lady Rhea, who had been silent until then, spoke up to stop him. She glanced at the Lady Forlorn with disdain and said loudly, "A wonderful duel cannot be without a weapon."
Then, she looked at the servant, Arnold.
His face tense, Arnold brought an ancient long sword to the field.
Swish! Aemon drew the long sword, and a cold light flashed through the hall. The water on the sword rippled slightly.
It was the Valyrian steel sword of the Royce family, Lament.
"After going around in circles, you are back in my hands again."
Aemon smiled and looked at his mother.
Lady Rhea had a blank expression, but her eyes revealed that she would allow him to do whatever he wanted.
She would not bother to say a word unless it was absolutely necessary.
Why? It's embarrassing! Our side flirted with the girl, and the other side made a fuss about it without caring about the honor of our ancient family.
Half of the valley will become a joke.
Aemon understood, turned to look at the exhausted Corwin, and teased, "We're all the same."
"Actually, it's not necessary."
Corwin's face turned green.
Buzz—
He responded with a sharp blade.
Aemon held Lament in his hand. The sword was more powerful than a tiger and he swung it without hesitation.
After a few moves, Corwin couldn't block it and staggered back.
Not wanting to waste time, Aemon stretched out his leg, tripping his opponent, who fell down with a plop.
"No!"
Martha screamed outside the field and struggled to rush forward.
Orion, a big man, could barely hold him down.
Corwin was disarmed again and was forced to pounce on the Lady Forlorn.
Clang! Aemon kicked away, getting out of Orion's range.
"Discover an item containing magic; gain +10 magic essence."
In front of Corwin, Aemon bent down and picked up the Lady Forlorn who was lying on the ground.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Corwin's eyes bulged, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
Aemon glanced at Corwin and looked at the two Valyrian steel swords in his hands.
He switched the positions of his left and right hands.
The Lady Forlorn in his right hand had a slender, cross-shaped blade, and a diamond-shaped ruby was inlaid at the end of the hilt.
Noble and elegant.
The Lament, in his left hand, was basically the same shape. The cross-shaped hilt was engraved with ancient runes.
It was simple and mysterious.
He formed a sword flower with each hand, and the two Valyrian steel swords seemed to be an extension of his arms and fingers.
Aemon was ecstatic and laughed, "Nothing is missing."
Boom!
As the mood rose, a gust of wind whistled outside the tower.
A mountain-like bronze dragon tore through the thick clouds, its broad brown wings covering most of the Eyrie like a curtain.
"Hiss—"
Vermithor raised his head, howled, circled low in the sky, and landed outside the seven tightly furrowed white towers.
"Dragon!"
The nobles near the window shouted in shock and squeezed in desperately.
The tower shook slightly, and everyone looked at it.
They saw a huge dragon head hanging in the air. A pair of cold, ruthless, copper-bright vertical pupils stared at the crowd in the hall through the glass window.
The dragon's mouth split into a cruel arc, revealing jagged fangs.
It was as if they were staring at a group of lambs about to be slaughtered.
"No! Run!"
The nobles of the Vale were frightened and fled in a hurry.
No one could remain unchanged when facing a dragon.
You either conquer it or be scared out of your wits.
"Your Highness!"
Jeyne's face changed drastically, and she clasped the hem of her skirt with both hands.
The dragon was intimidating.
Since the time of Aegon the Conqueror, dragons have shown their fangs again and again without a dragon rider present.
Each time, it was more ferocious than the last.
It was hard not to think of this as a threat.
"Be quiet, Vermithor!"
Aemon shouted, turning his head to face the calm, bronze, vertical pupils.
"Roar!"
Vermithor stretched his neck and lay on the ground obediently.
The dragon's head remained facing the window, its huge body towering over the slender white tower.
Aemon frowned slightly when he noticed the scratches on the bronze scales covering Vermithor's shoulders and neck.
A fight had taken place! The dragon had been out of sight for several days, and no one knew where it had gone.
"Roar!"
Vermithor snorted heavily and stretched out his scarlet tongue to lick his mouth.
Looking closely, Aemon saw blood stains in the gaps between the scales.
Aemon was thoughtful.
He and the dragon had been together for eight years, and their temperaments had grown increasingly compatible.
He was in a good mood, and it affected Vermithor as well.
Vermithor had probably gained something too, so he rushed over domineeringly.
But it was too late to say anything now.
The nobles in the hall were terrified. They huddled at the door, trembling.
The noble ladies and young ladies on the second floor were even worse off; they were all lying on the white marble floor.
Some of them were bold enough to draw their swords. They trembled as they aimed them at the bronze dragon outside the tower but didn't dare step forward.
"Don't be afraid! We're all here, and the dragon won't hurt anyone!"
At that critical moment, Laena stood up and revealed her identity.
Her words awakened Rhaenyra and Laenor.
The former had a cold expression and tapped the hem of her skirt with her fingers.
The latter was so excited that he wanted to rush out and ride Seasmoke.
Dragon riders, high numbers, etc.
The trial by combat continued.
"I'm sorry. Something unexpected happened."
Aemon walked toward Corwin, and Lady Forlorn pressed against his chest.
Corwin climbed up, panting and unable to resist.
"You're going to die."
Aemon had a regretful look on his face as Lament appeared across his neck.
A victim of power.
Jeyne represents the orthodoxy of the Eyrie, while Riverdale is a rising star.
Lord Orion is the first radical to emerge.
The first bird is not smart enough to let go.
This annoyed Jeyne, who proposed a trial by combat.
Trial by combat was no joke.
One party proposed it, and the other had no reason to refuse.
Unless they had something to hide or the previous accusation was false, they had no reason to refuse.
Orion gritted his teeth and agreed, and Corwin became the scapegoat.
"I hope you can keep your promise."
Corwin smiled miserably and lowered his head in resignation.
The only thing he was unwilling to accept was losing the family sword that had been passed down for thousands of years.
"You lost!"
Aemon suddenly raised his voice and walked around behind Corwin.
Jeyne stared closely and couldn't help but breathe heavier.
Lady Rhea frowned slightly but soon relaxed.
The radical valley nobles were all panicking, and a few women closed their eyes, unwilling to witness the bloody scene.
"Woo woo woo..."
Martha was covered in tears.
Orion's face was pale, as if he were a stupid bear without a plan.
His lifeless eyes met a pair of playful purple ones.
Aemon smiled and raised the Lament in his hand high.
The next second, it pierced Corwin's neck.
"I give up!"
Orion could no longer hold back, shouting in a trembling voice.
Jeyne turned around suddenly and said coldly, "Are you sure you'll lose this trial by combat?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Orion let go of his sister and said dejectedly, "We are pushing the envelope, and we are willing to accept defeat and the bet."
This trip to the Eyrie was a total loss.
He failed to win Lady Jeyne's favor, and he was still accused by an outsider Targaryen prince.
He could not lose his brothers over a fight.
"Very good."
Jeyne quickly adjusted her expression and pronounced, "In this trial by combat, the accused wins, and Ser Joffrey is not guilty."
As the words fell, Aemon leaned down and whispered in Corwin's ear, "I saved your life."
Corwin closed his eyes and held back his tears, choking up. "Thank you."
"If you lose the trial by combat, it will be difficult for you to survive in Heart's Home."
Aemon smiled and watched people openly. "Don't run around after your injury heals. I will hold a tournament in Riverdale soon."
After leaving the Eyrie, he will recruit people to expand his base.
With such a large territory, it's inevitable that he'll recruit talent from all sides.
In His Royal Highness's view, martial arts are divided into three categories: "top," "master," and "make-up."
Cole and Daemon belong to the top level.
The Kingsguard is at least a master.
This crow is not bad; his martial arts skills are impressive.
Among his vassals and allies, few are better than him.
His sword moves are flexible, and he is adept at changing his movements.
Even Gunthor, a top goalkeeper, might not be able to win with a clumsy, two-handed, heavy sword.
"I will."
Corwin's lips moved slightly as he spoke helplessly.
"Know the current situation."
Aemon nodded with satisfaction.
He took off the scabbard from his waist and placed Lady Forlorn inside it.
He wore it on his left and right hips, respectively, along with Lament.
Black clothes and silver hair — blood and fire from the same source.
"Hiss—"
Vermithor's pupils were like furnaces, and he let out a deafening roar.
The people present were startled and looked at the winner in fear.
Aemon remained calm and walked toward the excited Laenor.
Or rather, Joffrey, whom he was supporting.
His eyes were as cold as a knife.
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