Osmund Tyrell, utterly exhausted, swung his sword, cleaving a gap in an Ironborn's neck, then instinctively continued to swing his sword around him, but this time he swung at nothing, feeling no resistance from his longsword, and at the same time, he noticed that the surrounding sounds had vanished, and the street had become quiet again.
He panted heavily, stopping his meaningless swings, his sore hands making him want to drop the longsword, but years of training made his body involuntarily grip the longsword tighter.
At this moment, he looked around and saw fifty or sixty Ironborn corpses; only three of his comrades were still standing among the piles of bodies, each bearing injuries, and one even had a dagger stuck in his waist; though still standing, he looked as if he wouldn't last much longer.
In addition, the other four comrades and ordinary guards lay on the ground, each with at least a dozen wounds.
Osmund Tyrell came from a branch family of House Tyrell in Red Walls, and when he was very young, he was brought to Highgarden to receive knight training, eventually becoming a sworn knight of House Tyrell along with other distant relatives from House Tyrell's branch families.
Being chosen as Velas's guard this time was an opportunity for him; although he was not qualified to join the Duke's Guard, being able to follow young Velas would be of immense benefit to his future.
Most of the people who became Velas's guards with him were acquaintances, and several of them had even been squires to the same knight and became knights together, sharing a good relationship.
However, now, seeing familiar faces fallen to the ground, lifeless, a wave of sorrow welled up from his heart.
At this moment, Osmund suddenly recalled the Ironborn who had surged forward like a tide, numbering in the hundreds or thousands, yet now there were only fifty or sixty corpses on the ground; the other hundreds or thousands of Ironborn had already rushed into the plaza, where only Lord Linde stood guard; normally, the Starry Sept's gate would have likely been breached by the Ironborn by now, and he could no longer imagine Velas's current situation.
"Oh no, Lord Velas!" At this moment, someone else also realized the situation and cried out in alarm, then ran towards the plaza of the Starry Sept at the top of the street; Osmund and another knight followed, and the knight with the sword in his waist also tried to follow, but after two steps, he fell heavily to the ground and did not get up again.
The knight who first rushed into the plaza was completely stunned; he stared wide-eyed at everything in the plaza, not even realizing that the longsword in his hand had fallen to the ground.
Osmund and the other knight thought something had happened to Velas, feeling a wave of despair in their hearts, and having already resolved to die, prepared to charge into the Ironborn in the plaza to perish together.
However, when the two of them rushed into the plaza and saw the scene, they were immediately as stunned as their comrade who had arrived earlier, and their hands gripping their longswords also trembled uncontrollably due to extreme shock, causing their longswords to fall to the ground with a crisp clang.
Roughly half of the Starry Sept plaza was covered in dismembered bodies, piled layer upon layer, forming a small hill; blood covered the entire plaza, dyeing the black marble square red.
Clearly, these were the Ironborn who had charged into the plaza, but what puzzled the three of them was who had killed these people.
With their doubts, they scanned the plaza, finding that apart from these corpses, only Lord Linde stood before the Starry Sept's gate, with Glory, whose fur had returned to its black and white markings, lying at his feet, licking his paws.
"Lord Linde did it alone?" A thought simultaneously surfaced in the minds of the three; although at the moment this thought arose, they felt it was too absurd and unbelievable, the scene before them constantly told them that this absurd answer was true.
They, having lost over thirty men, had only slain fifty or sixty battle-hardened Ironborn, which already made them feel very satisfied and would certainly be considered an excellent achievement in any battle.
However, Lord Linde, by himself, had slain hundreds or thousands of Ironborn; this was not an achievement, it was a miracle; they even suspected whether Lord Linde had been possessed by the Warrior of the Seven Gods, which allowed him to kill so many Ironborn.
At this moment, the window of the Starry Sept's small door slightly opened, and a monk nervously peered out through the small window; moments ago, there had been a cacophony of fighting, but now it was so quiet that there was no sound at all; even though the Sept was protected by sturdy stone walls and a large gate, the monks inside still felt worried.
When the monk, illuminated by the flickering firelight from the braziers around the plaza, clearly saw the piles of bodies in the Sept's plaza, he couldn't help but let out a gasp, then quickly pulled his head back.
Subsequently, several other monks heard the sound and looked out through the window at the scene of corpses strewn across the plaza, all showing astonished expressions, then slowly reclosed the window, quietly discussing and guessing what had happened outside within the Sept.
"Lord Linde." Several knights walked up to Lord Linde, raised the visors of their helmets, and looked at him with reverence.
"How are the others now?" Although he already knew the outcome, Lord Linde still asked.
The knights looked at each other, sadness on their faces, and said in low voices, "They have fallen in battle."
Lord Linde was silent for a moment, then calmly said, "Check the surroundings for any remaining Ironborn."
The knights nodded, preparing to obey Lord Linde's command to check the area around the Starry Sept, when a rapid clatter of hooves came from the road leading to the north city gate; the knights immediately tensed, gripping their weapons.
A troop of fully armed cavalry charged up the road below and arrived in the plaza, and when the cavalry saw the scene of corpses strewn across the plaza, they instinctively pulled on their reins.
At this moment, the three knight guards finally saw that the swallowtail banner of this cavalry troop was the rose banner of House Tyrell; they knew reinforcements had arrived, and their taut nerves relaxed.
The cavalry were also stunned by the sight in the plaza, but the captain of this cavalry troop must have been on many battlefields and seen such scenes of corpses many times, so he quickly returned to normal.
The cavalry captain then quickly dismounted, passed between the three knights, and came before Lord Linde, saluting him and saying, "Lord Linde, I am ordered to protect Lord Velas; how is Lord Velas now?"
"He is still inside the Sept and is safe." Lord Linde nodded and instructed, "Now, take your men and patrol around the Starry Sept, clearing out any stragglers of the Ironborn." Then he asked, "How are things at the docks and Oldtown City Hall?"
The cavalry leader truthfully replied, "After entering the city, we rushed here; the situation at the docks and City Hall is unclear, but Lord Jon and the other knight lords have already led soldiers to reinforce them, and I believe they will soon be able to repel this group of Ironborn."
Just as the cavalry leader's voice fell, a series of piercing horn blasts echoed throughout Oldtown; those familiar with the Ironborn knew this was the signal for their retreat.
However, what was surprising was that the fighting at the City Hall had not subsided, nor had the fighting in the dock area, and even the situation in the commercial district remained unchanged, as if all the Ironborn had abandoned their pirate code and transformed into berserkers fighting to the death.
This situation made Lord Linde recall the Ironborn who had charged into the plaza earlier; those Ironborn clearly saw him effortlessly kill hundreds or thousands of people, yet they showed no signs of retreating or cowardice, still attacking him with disregard for their lives, until the last Ironborn who rushed into the plaza died by his sword, only then did that wave of attack end.
And now, the battles in those few locations in Oldtown were clearly the same as the situation earlier; the Ironborn there were no longer pirates plundering wealth, but warriors fighting to the death, not even obeying the retreat horn; undoubtedly, those Ironborn must have also had their minds controlled by some drug.
Not all Ironborn in this invasion of Oldtown fell into a frenzy of killing; a considerable number of them remained rational, and upon hearing the horn, they immediately stopped their looting and fighting, quickly fleeing towards the docks, and soon they retreated to the docks and swiftly boarded the pirate ships waiting there.
"Set sail, set sail!" As the captains of the various pirate ships issued commands, the ships, laden with plundered treasures, slowly began to depart from the docks.
"Our men from House Wynch haven't boarded yet, you…" An Ironborn on one of the ships, seeing that the ship was leaving the dock without being fully loaded, immediately stepped forward to question the captain.
"Get lost, if you say one more word, I'll throw you overboard." The captain snarled fiercely at the Ironborn.
As the Ironborn was about to say something more, he felt the hostile gazes around him and immediately shut his mouth, obediently going to a corner to wait.
Finally, to the sound of the horn, over a hundred Iron Islands pirate ships sailed away from the docks, and with the departure of these Ironborn, the situation in Oldtown did not improve much; the fighting remained extremely fierce, because they were facing a group of berserkers who feared no death.
However, it was soon discovered that as long as they kept a certain distance from the frenzied Ironborn, those Ironborn would not attack them but instead attack each other, and only then did the battle situation within Oldtown truly change.
Later, with the support of House Tyrell's army, all the Ironborn were eliminated at an extremely rapid pace, and when the last Ironborn fell, Oldtown returned to the quiet of the night.
At the same time, on the sea of Whispering Sound, the ships that had withdrawn from Oldtown gradually converged.
Among these longships was a rather large sailing ship, and the leaders of various families from the Iron Islands were gathered on this sailing ship; although they had safely withdrawn, and each ship was laden with various plundered treasures, they were not happy at all.
This surprise attack on Oldtown involved nearly three hundred longships and over six thousand men; now, only over a hundred ships had withdrawn, and nearly two hundred ships were trapped inside; a headcount had just been taken, and there were only two thousand one hundred thirty men, meaning four thousand men were trapped in Oldtown; such a massive loss of personnel could not be compensated for, no matter how much was plundered by these hundred-plus ships, and they would certainly face difficulties upon their return.
As an atmosphere of worry filled the entire room, someone suddenly said, "This is all Euron's fault; if he hadn't changed targets at the last minute, we would be plundering Lannisport now."
This remark seemed to provide a perfect scapegoat for everyone, and everyone unanimously declared that Euron, who had proposed the attack on Oldtown, was the culprit behind such heavy losses.
At this moment, someone also reminded, "The wine Euron brought out before the attack was also problematic; everyone who drank it lost their minds, only attacking anyone wildly; those who heard the retreat horn but didn't withdraw were all people who drank the wine."
"Yes, my men were like that too."
"Me too."
"Could House Greyjoy have deliberately used this method to deplete our forces?"
As these accusations were voiced, Old Mallen of House Botley, the temporary commander of this fleet, turned ashen; although he was at odds with Euron, he had a good relationship with House Greyjoy, and now someone was using the missing Euron to shift such significant casualties onto House Greyjoy, he naturally could not let this matter run wild.
Old Mallen drew his iron hammer and struck the table in front of him with a loud bang, saying, "Enough! Are you all blind? The wine Euron brought out was only that much; besides his own men who drank it, less than half of the others drank it; now, how is it that everyone drank Euron's wine in your mouths? If that were the case, how could you all still be standing here discussing this matter?"
Everyone immediately fell silent; Old Mallen still held some prestige in the eyes of these Ironborn.
However, someone still unconvinced, said, "Even so, it doesn't mean Euron is not problematic; from the moment he invaded the docks, he disappeared with his men, and he didn't touch the warehouse he was responsible for; the attack on Oldtown was his idea, he only appeared briefly during the landing, and then he was gone; he…"
Just as he was speaking, the cabin door was suddenly pushed open forcefully, and then a soaking wet Euron Greyjoy walked in from outside; however, the Euron now seemed somewhat different from the Euron they knew.
The original Euron, though very pale, still had a hint of color, but now Euron's skin was as white as a dead man's, adding a sinister aura to Euron's already eerie demeanor.
His skin was not the biggest change on Euron; the truly biggest change was Euron's left eye; his eyeball, which originally had sea-blue pupils, had become as dark as the deep sea, and meeting his gaze would give one the illusion of having their soul drawn out.
"Euron, your eye…" Someone couldn't resist Euron's gaze and involuntarily lowered his head.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? I think it's beautiful too." Euron, in a lazy manner, pushed away the people blocking his way, unceremoniously sat in the main chair, picked up the wine jug next to him, and drank heartily.
"Euron, where are your men?" Someone couldn't help but ask again.
"They're all dead, all of them." Euron replied calmly.
Upon hearing this, everyone looked at each other; the reason these people from various families of the Iron Islands feared Euron and obeyed his commands was entirely because of Euron's eight hundred-plus men; now that all these men were dead, everyone felt they no longer needed to fear Euron.
Just as they were about to take advantage of Euron's weakened state to accuse him, Euron suddenly said to the captains in the room, "My men are all dead, why are you still alive? You should all die too."
Before everyone understood what was happening, some captains were stabbed through the body by daggers from other captains next to them; soon, nearly half of the captains in the room lay in pools of blood, and without exception, these fallen captains were all the ones who had been shouting the loudest earlier.
Euron then stared at the stunned Old Mallen with his pitch-black eye and said, "The traitors who caused this massive loss have all been found, don't you think, Old Mallen?"
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