"We chopped off Joffrey's head!"
"We chopped off Joffrey's head!"
"We chopped off Joffrey's head!"
"..."
On the battlements, Jon had the soldiers roar this phrase over and over again.
Jon's voice alone wasn't enough to reach across the entire battlefield to let tens of thousands of people hear him.
There were no microphones in this era, and he didn't even have time to build a megaphone, so he had to resort to this method: telling a little lie together.
Seeing this bizarre scene on the battlements, the soldiers who had been ready to charge hesitated.
Especially the knights. They only knew there were currently two legitimate kings.
Or relatively legitimate: one was Joffrey, the other Stannis.
They knew they were loyal to Joffrey, but if Joffrey was dead, why should they still bleed?
If it were anyone else, they might have hesitated, but Jon was facing the battle-hardened Randyll Tarly.
He wouldn't be fooled by such a petty trick.
"Siege!"
Randyll Tarly, wearing his helmet, issued the attack order expressionlessly. Soldiers carried siege ladders, while archers lined up to provide support.
But just then, soldiers on the wall lifted two crying blonde children and displayed them to the besieging army below.
The children's attire was clearly not that of commoners.
Especially that golden hair; even in the dim light of dawn, it caught Randyll Tarly's eye immediately.
Two children, one older, one younger, a girl and a boy.
The girl was trembling, while the boy was tense and wailing.
While everyone was puzzled, Jon stood directly on the battlements and shouted to the people below: "Randyll Tarly! I am Jon Snow! Bastard son of the Hand of the King, Eddard Stark. What you see now are Tommen and Myrcella, the bastards born of Cersei's adultery! I have breached the Red Keep, and the false king Joffrey has been executed. This is the proof!"
"Cease attack! Cease attack!"
Seeing this, Randyll Tarly immediately ordered the soldiers to retreat. Obviously, Garlan and Petyr, who were a bit further away, also saw it.
On Petyr's advice, Garlan also hurriedly sent men to stop Randyll Tarly from launching the attack.
The three gathered again, mainly to confirm Jon wasn't fooling them with imposters.
"Yes, those two children are indeed Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen!" Petyr said seriously.
Hearing Petyr say this, Garlan and Randyll Tarly were somewhat at a loss.
Randyll Tarly simply stopped caring; he only cared about fighting, other matters were not his concern.
So Petyr looked at Garlan, but Garlan didn't know what to do either.
If you don't know what to do, look at the people around you. Look at them one by one; someone with an idea will eventually speak up.
Or close your eyes, lower your head, and pretend to think.
Yes, that will do. Don't speak, let others guess.
The teachings of his grandmother, the "Queen of Thorns" Olenna, and his eldest brother Willas echoed in Garlan's mind.
The last sentence was said by his little sister, the renowned "Little Rose" Margaery Tyrell.
Seeing Garlan lower his head and close his eyes in silence, Petyr gave him time to think.
Who knew that after one minute, two minutes, five minutes, Garlan said nothing, just stood there foolishly.
Finally, Petyr couldn't hold back and said, "Ser Garlan, those are indeed Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen, but they aren't in the Red Keep. Jon claims he killed King Joffrey, so why didn't he show King Joffrey's corpse? He must be bluffing!"
Garlan watched Petyr finish speaking, then looked at Randyll Tarly.
Seeing Randyll Tarly nod, he also nodded slightly.
"Mm, you make sense." Petyr didn't know Garlan well. Seeing him agree with his speculation, he felt relieved, while also marveling that this unknown Garlan seemed a bit "difficult to deal with."
He adjusted his wording and quickly said, "We can't let him deceive us. We must seize the time to siege the city, as Earl Randyll Tarly said. Otherwise, if Stannis gains the Iron Throne, how can Margaery become Queen?"
At this moment, Randyll Tarly, who had been silent, spoke up: "What about the soldiers?"
"What?" Petyr didn't react immediately.
"The soldiers. Although Lord Petyr's speculation makes sense, the soldiers may not understand. They will still have doubts. If we don't handle the soldiers' doubts well, our attack might be hindered. And what if? If the Northern army can appear here unexpectedly, is it certain they won't breach the Red Keep?"
Although Randyll Tarly ignored political matters, when it involved marching and fighting, everyone had to consider his opinion.
Petyr was a qualified schemer.
He could instigate one or two people, but not necessarily ten or twenty thousand.
Petyr knew that if Jon really killed Cersei's three children, the so-called "Lion-Rose Alliance" would break apart instantly.
With their powerful strength, even if House Tyrell was eventually restricted and marginalized by Stannis, it wouldn't hurt their core.
But he was different. His position as Master of Coin was bestowed by the "former-former" Hand of the King, Jon Arryn.
He was just a minor noble from the Fingers in the Vale, and a poor one at that.
Although he had embezzled a lot of money over the years by handling loans from the Iron Bank for Robert, he knew that without power, money only made one a target for slaughter.
If Stannis realized he was the one pulling strings and ruining his plans, even if the King didn't pursue it, plenty of people below would come looking for trouble.
Thinking of this, cold sweat began to seep from Petyr's back. He turned his neck slightly, as if breathing was difficult.
Perhaps I should persuade the Tyrells to switch to Stannis? Maybe I can... atone for my crimes with merit?
No, will great houses switch sides so easily? What they care about most is face. It's too early to think about this. There are tens of thousands of troops here. Unless Aegon the Conqueror arrives personally with his dragons, no one can hold this place!
Petyr, calm down, there will be a way, there will be a way—
Petyr's thoughts raced, but facing the current situation, a sense of powerlessness was inevitable.
Just then, a Reach knight came to the three and reported loudly: "My Lords, Duke Mace asks why we haven't entered King's Landing yet?"
Duke Mace was the Duke of Highgarden, Warden of the South, and Garlan's father.
If Stannis takes the throne, it seems only House Tyrell can protect me. Realizing this, Petyr quickly spoke: "There's a problem, Ser. Someone beat us to it—"
Petyr explained the current situation to the messenger knight. It was apparent this knight was likely a bastard of House Tyrell.
After learning the situation, the suspected bastard knight returned to inform Mace.
Now, hesitant to act for fear of harming the hostages, the Reach army couldn't force a siege and could only wait under the city walls.
The stalemate continued until broad daylight, when they could even clearly see the expressions of the Northern soldiers on the battlements.
Fortunately, by this time, Martyn had completed reinforcing the Mud Gate defense line.
News also came from Beric that he had completed the construction of defense lines in other directions.
Given Jon's current situation, he could withstand a fierce siege.
On the battlements, Jon, Harrion, and Beric were also discussing the next plan.
Jon had just bought them time to build defenses using the Myrcella siblings, but ultimately, they needed to conquer the Red Keep to seal the victory.
"Jon, we've blockaded the Red Keep and can attack anytime. We're currently filling the moat with stones. If Arya's secret passage is viable, we'll soon drag that brat king out!" Harrion said excitedly.
He wasn't stupid; he knew breaching the Red Keep meant not only successful revenge but also the safety of their ten thousand-plus men.
"Good!" Jon nodded.
They lacked nothing now except time. Filling the Red Keep's moat was indeed a major project requiring time.
But Jon knew that even with the secret passage, capturing the Red Keep would likely take some time.
He still had to consider how to defend the city. At this moment, Beric mentioned wildfire.
"Jon, you know the power of wildfire. If we are to defend the city next, we might be able to use it. I suggest we start making wildfire immediately to defend the city!" Beric suggested.
His proposal excited the others.
Right!
If the Imp Tyrion could use wildfire to defend the city, so could they!
"Yes! Burn these Reachmen to death with wildfire!" Harrion waved his fist excitedly.
"That's too... cruel." Hakon also understood what was happening.
He thought he was the bravest warrior in the Mountains of the Moon, but he never imagined such words would come out of his mouth one day.
He only felt this "outside world" was a bit too terrifying. Killing ten or twenty thousand people was spoken of lightly, squandering human lives like splashing mud.
Jon didn't know what he was thinking, nor did he intend to find out. He just realized this was a good idea, so he looked at Thoros beside him. This was the professional.
But the "Red Priest's" words chilled everyone's hearts.
"There's not enough time." Thoros shook his head. "Making wildfire involves complex steps and requires spells. Moreover, there is a process where it must ferment for several days like wine. There isn't enough time." Thoros threw a wet blanket over everyone's hopes.
Without the weapon of wildfire, facing the combined forces of Lannister and Tyrell, everyone felt a bit diffident.
That was an army of a hundred thousand!
Seeing the disappointed crowd, Jon suddenly thought of something.
When the last Targaryen king, the "Mad King" Aerys, realized his dynasty was about to fall, he ordered wildfire to be buried in parts of King's Landing, seemingly planning to perish together with the rebels once they breached the city.
But because his Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister, stopped him, it didn't happen.
Afterward, no one ever unearthed this batch of wildfire.
Jon thought he might try his luck. If he found it, great. Even if not, his [God's Eye View] could monitor every city gate, allowing him to rush immediately to wherever a problem arose.
"Martyn, you and Ser Thoros go to the Great Sept of Baelor. There might be wildfire there." Jon said to the group.
"Huh? How do you know?" Beric and Thoros asked in surprise. After all, this should be Jon's first time in King's Landing.
"I heard about it at the Wall. Anyway, we'll talk after the war. Go quickly!"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Harrion, hold the Lion Gate to the west firmly. The Lannisters could arrive at any moment." As for Medger Cerwyn, Jon didn't dare count on him to hold Tywin for long; delaying him for half a day would be a blessing.
"My Lord, should we bring out those prisoners to defend the city for us?" Munda proposed, but Jon rejected it immediately.
"No. We just arrived, and no one believes we can hold. Once those prisoners see the massive enemy army, not defecting on the spot would be a miracle. Have people watch them closely for me."
"Yes, my Lord."
As orders were issued one by one, Jon still felt somewhat apprehensive.
Not that he lacked confidence in the war.
At this moment, his [God's Eye View] had achieved complete "coverage" of King's Landing.
Nothing could escape his eyes.
It was just nervousness about holding tens of thousands of lives in his hands. But things having come to this, there was no choice but victory.
From the moment he launched the mutiny to seize military power, there was no turning back.