Lysa even laughed before her death: "Only one? Oh, Petyr, do you swear it? Only one? Before I die, it's worth it. It's a pity we didn't become husband and wife. I thought about how much we went through together. We accompanied each other, stayed by each other's side, inseparable, to have several children for you."
"Only Catelyn," Petyr turned his head away, no longer looking at Lysa.
The Lords of the Vale all looked grim. If these two kept talking, Old Jon's reputation would be completely ruined.
"Liar, no, you're lying to me," Lysa wailed in despair. The poor, foolish woman; her fate matched her stupidity.
Ser Vardis walked towards Lysa. The blue robes pressed Lysa's head onto the log. He gripped the Falcon Blade in his hand, and then Lysa's head was separated from her body, fresh red blood gushing forth like a spring.
Then the blue robes exerted their strength, and Lysa, along with the round log, all vanished into the fierce wind. The cold wind howled ceaselessly, leaving behind only a pool of fresh blood.
Petyr saw this scene but showed no expression, still kneeling on the ground, awaiting his death. He saw Catelyn's girl, how much she resembled young Catelyn, but she did not even glance at him, only lingering on Gendry of the Storm's footsteps. Women were all like this, their eyes and hearts stolen by tall, handsome men.
"Tie him to a pillar," Gendry stepped down from the dais. His height was so great that he stood out from the crowd. He took the treasured longsword from Vardis's hand, the blood still uncleaned.
"Ladies and children present, please cover your eyes; what follows may be somewhat cruel," Gendry said to everyone. Brynden made Sansa cover her eyes tightly.
Sansa looked at Gendry's back, her heart feeling like a fawn running. He was so handsome and agile, seemingly unmatched. If he could gently be with her, that would be wonderful.
"Yes, Your Highness," the blue robes then tied Littlefinger to the pillar closest to the Moon Door. Gendry personally held the sharp longsword.
"Petyr, it is not another who kills you, but I," Gendry said. "You will die the same way as Khal Drogo and Bloodbeard; it's not unfair to you."
"You won this game this time. I hope you can keep winning, win until you defeat Braavos, defeat the Faceless Men, defeat Qarth. King, the game of thrones does not allow for quitting midway," Petyr said.
Gendry nodded, indicating he had heard. Petyr opened his eyes coldly, no longer speaking. He heard the sound of the hourglass again, the sand flowing quietly.
The sharp longsword whistled in Gendry's hand, like a string of light and shadow, and the scent of bright fresh blood assailed his nostrils.
Littlefinger seemed to see the tall, burly wild wolf of yesteryear swinging his treasured longsword in Riverrun, his attacks fierce, his longsword raining down, impossible to avoid. Petyr fought stubbornly but kept retreating until Brandon's single strike almost killed him that year.
"This longsword stroke is for your betrayal of The late King, my father Robert Baratheon, and my siblings," Gendry swung the treasured longsword, and Petyr's left arm fell, leaving a sea of blood.
"This longsword stroke is for your betrayal of your benefactor, The late King's foster father Lord Jon Arryn, and for poisoning Lord Jon's son, Lord Robert Arryn." Petyr's right arm was also directly severed, more blood flowed, and the chilling ground began to surge.
"This longsword stroke is for your betrayal of the hand of the king, Duke Eddard Stark." Gendry struck Petyr's left leg, and the longsword directly severed Petyr's thigh; bone, flesh, and veins all snapped with the sound, as if cutting through a piece of silk.
The Knights of the Vale saw clearly that this Falcon Blade, though flashy, was merely a fine steel longsword, not a valyrian steel sword. It was purely Gendry's personal valor, his immense and unparalleled strength.
"This..." Dumb Harry's eyes widened. This was pure strength, without any fancy techniques, yet it was invincible.
"This longsword stroke is for your betrayal of House Tully, for coveting and deceiving Lord Jon's wife." Petyr's right leg was also directly severed, plumes of bloody mist erupted into the air, then quickly dissipated like smoke.
"This longsword stroke is for your betrayal of the people, for instigating war." Gendry swung the sharp longsword, and Petyr's suffering finally ended; his head flew up, soaring into the air.
Petyr's remaining torso was then thrown out of the Moon Door by the trembling, nauseated blue robes, and Littlefinger's remains and head flew high in the sky.
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