"You killed the heir of the Legge Family?!!!"
"Are you insane?!!!"
He glared at Brin, his eyes filled with horror, then turned to Arthur, trying to convey with his eyes that this matter was very troublesome.
A lord's only son, the family heir, killed on the battlefield—this war truly couldn't be stopped now.
This idiot had put Arthur and Roger Lygg in an irreconcilable position, indicating that Arthur should punish him.
Brin did not look at Arthur, nor did he heed Olivier's roar. He merely lowered his head slightly, standing there silently, not saying it was Arthur's order, tacitly acknowledging everything.
His posture seemed to say, I killed the man, and I will bear all the blame.
Arthur remained silent. He did not say it was his hint, nor did he open his mouth to reprimand.
He simply watched quietly, letting Olivier's horror echo in the hall. This silence was more powerful than any words; it silently declared that Brin's actions were his will.
Olivier's breathing became rapid.
He looked at the master and servant, finally understanding something. He stumbled back a few steps, bumping into an unopened box behind him with a dull thud: "My Lord… what exactly are you doing?"
Brin finally spoke again, his voice still hoarse, but with a heavy explanation: "My Lord, before the ambush, Jero Legge led men to dismantle Dreadfort."
Olivier was speechless.
"He also destroyed your ancestors' burial ground."
"I have already had the soldiers rebury the bones of my Lord's ancestors."
Olivier let out a long sigh of relief. He instantly understood Brin's anger, understood the bloody reason behind this interception.
In Westeros, this was the most malicious insult, a hatred that could not be washed away at any cost.
Olivier looked at Brin, thinking, "That's good, that's good," with a hint of understanding and helplessness: "So that's how it is…"
"I can understand your anger, but… but this is ultimately not a good thing."
He did not know that when Brin killed Jero Legge, he was unaware of the destruction of Dreadfort. The destruction of Dreadfort merely made Brin encounter the young man who had to die earlier.
Because it was Arthur's implied command.
The destruction of the ancestral burial ground was merely an understandable cover, named 'revenge,' for this inevitable slaughter.
And Arthur, looking at the two strange individuals at this moment, felt no ripples in his heart.
He wanted this war to continue, and the deepening of blood feuds was the best way, until the Legge Family no longer had the strength to retaliate, until he gained the maximum benefit from this war.
Brin took out a long, slender object wrapped in cloth from behind his back, and then a small notebook bound with a leather cord from his bosom.
He held it with both hands, unwrapped the cloth to reveal a sword, and solemnly presented it to Arthur with both hands.
Arthur, curious, reached out and took it.
The sword felt peculiar in his hand; it was much lighter than it appeared, and the grip was excellent, even better than his mier longsword. A cold sensation spread up his palm.
He drew the longsword, and a faint hum vibrated in the air. The blade's surface flowed with peculiar wave-like patterns, sharp and keen.
Olivier's eyes instantly widened. He gasped in surprise: "A Valyrian Steel sword!"
His voice was filled with trembling and awe, as if he had seen a rare treasure. He lunged forward, even forgetting his manners,
and said urgently:
"Lord Arthur! Quick! Cover it with cloth! This object must not be easily shown to others!"
Arthur looked at the fine sword in his hand and, as instructed, sheathed it. Olivier quickly took the cloth and carefully rewrapped it. Valyrian Steel swords, each one priceless, were enough to spark a war.
Arthur's gaze fell upon the small notebook.
The leather cover of the notebook was mottled with age, its edges curled and blackened.
He untied the leather cord and opened the first page.
On the old paper, a line of words was written in ink, the handwriting strong.
"Farrow of Dreadfort, oathbreaker."
Arthur flipped through it, gathering that it was the life story of an ancestor, a fervent follower of the Seven Gods, who lived during the Dance of the Dragons.
Arthur's hand stopped, his eyes wide. He saw a phrase he was very familiar with: "King… True Dragon… blood… awaken… the demon dragon in stone…"
He remembered. Wasn't this Melisandre's prophecy to deceive Stannis…
"When the long night comes, and the stars bleed, Azor Ahai shall be reborn amidst smoke and salt, to wake dragons out of stone." And Stannis was Azor Ahai.
The only difference was that Melisandre told Stannis that Dragonstone had a stone dragon, and only the blood of a king could awaken the stone dragon.
Stannis had originally planned to sacrifice Edric to awaken the stone dragon Melisandre spoke of, but it was ultimately not carried out for various reasons.
And this ancestor's account added the phrase "True Dragon's blood."
Arthur closed the book. "True Dragon's blood," did it refer to the Targaryen family…
On the inner keep's battlements, Roger Lygg was gazing into the distance from the city wall.
He hoped the news from Willow Wood City had already spread.
If the news had reached them, his young son Jero should already be on his way with reinforcements.
He firmly believed that as soon as reinforcements arrived, he could launch a pincer attack and crush Arthur in one fell swoop.
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