"Follow me."
Matthew jerked his head and set off toward the Fishmarket.
Davos waited a beat before saying to the knights beside him:
"Follow him."
Though unhappy about it, Ser Imry Florent gave a slight nod of his large, haughty head and led his men in pursuit.
They walked down from the middle of the pier, taking a few dozen steps before entering the mud.
The slippery, wet sensation underfoot disgusted them, but they had to endure it.
Matthew walked in front, never looking back, deliberately keeping some distance.
As he walked, he scanned his surroundings.
Night was the domain of shadows. The further away things were, the less the moonlight helped.
Still, he spotted two figures crouching behind the wooden pilings at the end of the pier, looking down from above. It was indeed an excellent hiding spot.
He didn't need to guess to know these were his Kestrel squad members.
No other squad knew the docks as well as they did.
"Klee-klee-klee..."
Matthew cupped his hands to his mouth and blew hard, mimicking the call of a kestrel.
The Kestrel members hiding in the shadows immediately stood up, slid down the wooden beams, ran to Matthew, and bowed their heads:
"Captain, we're here."
Matthew lowered his hands to his waist and asked directly:
"Where is Newar?"
The two Kestrel members looked at each other. The Little Bird on the left was about to answer.
But Dale Seaworth suddenly ran up from behind, shouting:
"Hey brat, why are you running so fast?"
Seeing him, the two Kestrel members instantly shut their mouths, their hands flying to draw their knives.
But Matthew was faster than them.
Drawing his hatchet from his belt, he swung it upward in a vicious arc, burying it into the jaw of the Little Bird further away. The victim convulsed uncontrollably.
Using that impact as leverage, Matthew lifted his leg and kicked the closer Little Bird square in the stomach.
In that split second, one was dead, the other injured.
Kicking aside the wide-eyed corpse, Matthew pulled out his axe.
A fountain of bright red sprayed from the wound, scattering like agate stones into the water.
Stepping over the bloody water, he rushed to the Little Bird he had kicked away and hooked his leg around him.
The Little Bird fell again in panic.
But in that lightning-fast moment, instinct took over. The Little Bird struck back with a dagger thrust.
Matthew's body recoiled subconsciously. He brought the back of his axe down hard, smashing the dagger out of the hand amid a scream of pain.
The dagger plopped into the mud.
Clutching his hand, the Little Bird tried to roll over to retrieve it.
Matthew kicked the dagger away, flipped the Little Bird over, stepped on his back, and asked again:
"Where is Newar?"
"Tell me, and I might not kill you."
Little Birds were human too. Faced with death, they felt fear.
He reached out a finger and pointed vaguely to the upper left.
Matthew looked in that direction, grinned, lifted his foot, and stomped on the back of the Little Bird's head, knocking him unconscious.
Davos arrived late, patted his still-dazed son, and asked:
"What happened?"
Dale's lips moved, but no words came out.
Matthew spoke without reservation:
"Just found two Little Birds."
He pointed to the upper left, near the city wall, and began issuing orders:
"Sneak over there quietly. Surround all the Little Birds in that area. Don't let a single one escape."
Davos frowned, raising an eyebrow.
"You want to kill Little Birds. What does that have to do with us?"
Matthew spat on the ground and laughed.
"If I don't kill these Little Birds, I can't get away. They're occupying my home, searching for me, monitoring me. Their people are at every choke point. If I don't strike first, do you want to be ambushed and surrounded by them?"
Davos gave Matthew a deep look, said nothing more, and waved his hand, signaling the guards to follow him as they crept forward.
Ser Imry Florent stamped his feet, looking at his mud-caked boots with disgust, and asked:
"Why should we listen to him?"
Davos glanced sideways at him and said indifferently:
"No one knows this place better than him. Besides, the Duke's order was to assist him. You don't want the mission to fail, do you?"
With that, he led his son forward.
Ser Imry spat on the ground.
But remembering he was here to earn merit, he had no choice but to follow.
Once they were a bit further away, Dale, still shaken, whispered a warning to Davos:
"Father, this kid is vicious. We need to be careful of him."
Davos looked back at him and nodded slightly.
Seeing his father understood, Dale felt much relieved. He looked back secretly.
Matthew was turning over the corpse, searching it thoroughly.
Finished, he stepped over the unconscious guy sleeping soundly and caught up with the guards ahead.
Under Davos's command, this group moved efficiently and almost silently, reaching the city wall.
There wasn't a soul on the wall. Who knew where the Gold Cloaks had gone.
Moving further in, they saw seven people sitting on a woodpile behind a dilapidated shack.
Davos withdrew his gaze, pointed to four men, and waved to the left.
The four signaled men looked at Imry. Seeing him nod, they spread out, moving left to cut off the seven people's retreat.
Matthew arrived just in time and asked:
"How is it?"
Davos tilted his head, indicating for him to look for himself.
Matthew poked his head out. Looking inside, he saw Newar looking miserable.
Heh heh heh!
He was delighted inside and asked:
"When do we kill them?"
Davos was about to speak when a whistle rang out.
He immediately shoved Matthew aside and shouted:
"Go, go, go!"
The remaining four guards immediately followed him into the gap between the shack and the tent.
Matthew sucked in a breath of cold air, rubbed his shoulder, and followed.
Below the woodpile, Davos and his nine men had them firmly surrounded.
Matthew looked at the huddled Little Birds above, stood behind the guards, and laughed:
"Sparrows, the Kestrel is here."
Hearing the familiar voice, Newar immediately cursed:
"Damn bastard! Matthew, you really betrayed Lord Varys! You damn traitor!"
Matthew laughed even louder, rocking back and forth.
"Betrayal? Traitor? I've already died once. Do you think I still owe Varys anything?"
Stopping his laughter, he shook his finger at Newar and said seriously:
"No, no, no. It was Varys who betrayed me. He wanted to send me to my death and had you monitor me. Is that not betrayal?"
"How many times have I risked my life for him? And this is how he treats me?"
Matthew suddenly roared, raised his axe, and continued:
"But I am a generous man."
"I saved your life once, Newar. Now you treat me like this. I'm heartbroken, but I'm still willing to give you a chance."
"Single combat. If you can survive ten moves against me, I'll let you all go. How about it?"
Davos grabbed Matthew, wanting to advise against it.
But Matthew held his hand, patted it lightly, and said confidently and firmly:
"Don't worry. The blood of a King flows in my veins."
Everyone heard it.
Ser Imry Florent's eyes widened instantly, then slowly narrowed. Doubt, scrutiny, and defensiveness lingered in his gaze.
The guards also looked at Matthew in shock.
No one expected this pretty boy, who lived like a stinking beggar, to be the King's bastard.
Although the reputation of bastards was foul and their status akin to rats...
This was the King's seed.
Davos sensed something was wrong. He scanned left and right, his gaze hardening.
Looking at Matthew's figure again, his expression became grave.
What exactly are you planning?
Davos thought to himself.
A normal person wouldn't expose this secret right now.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Matthew walked forward, secretly observing everyone's expressions.
He was very satisfied.
Walking up to the woodpile, Matthew took his stance, beckoned with his hand, and mimicked a knight's duel rigidly, saying:
"Come on."
Newar looked at Matthew, the dagger in his hand trembling.
He knew better than anyone how strong Matthew really was.
But the situation left him no choice.
He jumped down from the woodpile slowly, stared at Matthew, and confirmed:
"If you don't win in ten moves, you really let us go?"
Matthew grinned, revealing the brilliant smile of the Reaper hooking a soul, and nodded.
The surroundings fell instantly silent.
Newar took a deep breath, looked back at his subordinates, and slowly lowered his head as if to take a stance.
But suddenly, he moved.
One dagger shot from his hand. He pulled another from his sleeve and threw it too. They flew toward Matthew's head and chest respectively.
Then, Newar crouched down, pulled yet another dagger from his leg, pushed off hard, and charged in for the kill.
Davos was startled and shouted:
"Dodge!"
Matthew had no time to think.
Relying on sheer reflex, he leaned all the way back, hands planting on the ground, barely dodging the two daggers.
As he looked up, he saw another flash of cold light between his legs, stabbing toward his groin, inches away.
If that hit, he was dead.
Matthew's eyes widened in horror.
Luckily, his long legs instinctively kicked backward, drawing a semicircle in the air.
This flipped him over, causing him to fall and roll away.
In an instant, everyone was stunned.
Newar was also shocked. Roaring, he charged again.
But Matthew, covered in dust, was ready.
With his superior agility, a sweeping leg kick knocked Newar down.
Immediately, Matthew grabbed a longsword from a guard behind him and slashed at the arm Newar was using to hold the dagger.
Sword flashed, hand severed.
Matthew kicked the severed hand away. Panting heavily, he looked at the wailing Newar and smiled triumphantly again, whispering softly like he did in childhood:
"Wish you goodnight, Newar."
With that, the sword plunged from the moonlight into the darkness, cleaving down from above.
[Slashing Proficiency +1]