"Why? Why didn't you dodge?"
Ser Barristan was panting heavily. He looked at Roman's calm, unperturbed face and asked loudly.
Roman absolutely had the ability to twist away from that attack, yet he deliberately chose to match Ser Barristan in technique. Otherwise, with just a few more exchanges, Ser Barristan would have undoubtedly lost.
"I came to seek instruction in combat skills. Relying solely on physical prowess to overpower someone leads to no improvement."
"In terms of technique, I was defeated. That is undeniable."
It was the first time Barristan had encountered someone who challenged him using their own shortcomings. Remembering his own recent discomfiture, he let out a frustrated laugh.
"Combat is about winning and losing. What you must ensure is that you do not lose."
Roman did not answer. Instead, he stepped forward and supported Barristan.
Feeling the tremors transmitted through the arm, Roman wondered if he had been too harsh on an old man.
At that moment, applause rang out from the side.
Everyone turned to see Robert's flushed face, unsure whether it was from alcohol or excitement.
"Excellent! Excellent! You're quite the arrogant one, lad. I've never seen anyone push Barristan to such a state before. House Hoare has produced a warrior!"
"Your Grace."
"Your Grace!"
Robert walked forward, patted Barristan on the shoulder, then took Roman's warhammer.
"Hmm, with your strength, such a small hammer is unworthy. Later, I'll have a larger one forged for you! It's also a token of thanks for Lady Hean's timely assistance."
However, at that moment, an untimely voice sounded.
"Your Grace, your promises are more precious than the gold of Casterly Rock. Is such largesse truly appropriate?"
Everyone looked over to see a golden-haired man standing amidst the crowd.
Tall, handsome, with flowing golden hair, shining blue eyes, and a smile sharp as a blade.
"Lord Roman, Ser Barristan is already advanced in years. The outcome of your match with him may not be entirely meaningful. How about a bout with me instead?"
"If you win, I shall fund the forging of this warhammer for you. What say you?"
Jaime Lannister still wore that smiling expression, but anyone could see the arrogance in it.
Roman frowned. He knew Jaime was arrogant and overbearing before losing his right hand, but he hadn't expected him to be this outrageous.
With one sentence, he had offended both Barristan and Robert.
Roman glanced tentatively at Robert, who also frowned, only relaxing when he saw Roman wasn't angry.
He turned back to Jaime: "You'd better be as skilled as you claim."
After saying this, Robert patted Roman, signaling he could proceed.
"I seek your instruction."
Roman spoke calmly to Jaime, his words few and measured.
This caused the soldiers of Harrenhal to snicker quietly. They knew Roman all too well. When he spoke calmly and briefly, it meant Roman was getting serious.
Regardless of Jaime's intentions behind those words, Roman was going to teach him respect.
The two assumed their stances. At Robert's command, the bout began.
Roman wasted no words. With a large stride, he charged forward ferociously, his speed almost impossible to track.
This startled everyone present.
Barristan's mouth opened slightly: "Does he still have such stamina?"
Roman did not attack Jaime directly. Instead, he flashed past him, extending his warhammer and using his body's momentum to close in on Jaime.
Like a cavalryman charging with a great hammer, Jaime broke out in a cold sweat and hurriedly used both hands to press his longsword into a defensive block.
*CLANG!!*
Jaime was sent flying back by the impact. He stumbled back several steps before managing to disperse the force.
But Roman gave him no chance. With even greater force than his initial charge, he stomped the ground, pivoted, and charged again.
During this, Roman's dragon tail, concealed beneath his black cloak, swung in a graceful arc, helping him stabilize his body.
By the time Roman reached Jaime, his opponent was still stunned from the previous attack. Then, Roman swung a fist, striking Jaime squarely on the jaw.
The force of this blow was expertly controlled—it did not injure Jaime, yet rendered him unconscious.
Amidst the general astonishment, Jaime toppled over stiffly.
"This? It's over already?"
In the ensuing silence, Robert was the first to break the stalemate, clapping his hands vigorously.
"Good! Excellent! I never expected you to knock down Jaime so easily, lad! Reminds me of myself in my youth! Come, come, let's go have a drink together! Anyone here who wants to drink can join us!"
Robert pulled Roman along as he headed out, while the soldiers of Harrenhal were held back by Old Jessy.
Roman, as a member of House Hoare, was going for social obligations. The soldiers going would just be for revelry.
Robert had just sobered up. Drinking again would definitely lead to trouble. Roman couldn't help but remind him:
"Your Grace, what you need now is rest. If you drink again, I fear your body won't withstand it!"
The portly king instantly turned his head. He always hated others dictating his actions. Robert's tone turned unfriendly:
"Oh! Our new man from House Hoare intends to teach his king how to behave?"
"No." Roman shook his head calmly.
"Your Grace, how long has it been since you last swung a warhammer?"
That single sentence made Robert freeze. Only then did he realize he hadn't picked up a weapon of war since subduing Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands.
His physique had begun its decline around that time as well.
Robert didn't answer Roman. Instead, his face flushed:
"What else can I do? There's no war, no feasts. Do you expect me to just sit on that pile of broken swords?"
Robert thought Roman was mocking his changes over the years, but the newcomer from House Hoare shook his head with a smile.
"Your Grace, you are like the warhammer from the battle at the Trident. You belong roaming the wilds and battlefields."
"But now it's hung high, drenched in wine, and covered in rust. I merely lament for a warrior corroded by the iron throne."
Roman looked at his own warhammer, then glanced at Robert, his eyes filled with unconcealed melancholy and regret.
"I am not mocking, only lamenting. I truly wish to see once more the warrior from the Ruby Ford of those days."
Roman's emotional onslaught made Robert recall the scene of him smashing Rhaegar with his hammer.
Yes, how high-spirited he was back then. And now? Even Robert himself felt he had grown excessively fat over the years.
But he didn't want to give up one of his three great loves. Ultimately, torn, he scratched his head and loudly challenged Roman:
"You rascal, all this talk just means you're like the old men and don't want me to drink! So, how do you plan to compensate me?"
Roman He then slammed the hammer head into the ground.,He extended his right hand toward Robert..
"My King, when you regain your former glory, I shall bring you a truly exhilarating tournament."
"As long as you fulfill the duties of a king, I shall pledge my eternal loyalty to you!"
"Hah?" Robert was amused by Roman's shameless words. "Isn't it natural for a vassal to pledge loyalty to his king? You dare set conditions? Even if House Tully is above you, I am still the king!"
"Your Grace, you are not king because the crown sits upon your head. You can only possess the crown when others acknowledge you as such."
Then, Roman grinned: "Or has the warrior of the Trident lost his confidence?"
The look in Robert's eyes as he stared at Roman was also ignited with anger: "Fine, fine! You just wait, lad! I'll make sure you regret this later!"
Roman responded with a bow. The two then returned to The Red Keep, laughing.