Chapter 12:
The midday sun scorched the sandy tourney ground like fire.
The final match.
The stands were completely packed — even the aisles were crammed with people. Yet at this moment, the vast arena was terrifyingly silent. The only sound came from the heavy snorting of two warhorses.
On the north side of the field stood "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane, like a moving fortress.
Today he hadn't even mounted his usual warhorse. Instead, he rode a massive draft horse brought from the Westerlands. The lance in his hand was twice as thick as a normal knight's — it was a siege weapon, not a tourney lance. Through the slit of his helmet, one could vaguely see his bloodshot eyes — a clear sign of the berserk state caused by overdosing on an enhanced version of "Milk of the Poppy."
On the south side, Victor Pompey stood motionless.
His black "Griffon Armor" emitted a cold, dark gleam under the blazing sun. Unlike the Mountain's frenzied aura, he was like a bottomless pool of still water.
"Seven hells…" Renly Baratheon swallowed hard from the stands. "Is that Pompey boy really not afraid of death? Gregor in this state could tear a bull in half."
Not far away, Littlefinger Petyr Baelish gripped his ledger so tightly his knuckles turned white. In his heart, he cursed madly: Die! Get smashed into meat paste! As long as you die, I won't have to pay those fifty thousand gold dragons!
"The match — begins!"
King Robert swung his warhammer down.
Rumble—!
The ground began to tremble.
The Mountain charged like a landslide. He didn't even aim at Victor's shield — his massive lance was pointed straight at Victor's head!
This was a foul! Tourney lances were supposed to target the torso.
But the Mountain didn't care. He wanted to kill.
At the critical moment when the lance was about to pierce the visor—
Victor moved.
The terrifying explosive power from dumping all his points into Agility was fully displayed.
He didn't try to block the inhuman force with his shield. Instead, he performed a physically impossible move on horseback — a backward iron bridge!
Whoosh—!
The Mountain's lance whistled past Victor's nose, the wind pressure so strong it made his visor scream.
At the same time, Victor's lance shot forward like a striking viper, precisely targeting the gap at the joint of the Mountain's breastplate and gorget!
Thud!
A heavy impact rang out.
Even though the Mountain weighed over four hundred pounds, the perfectly timed counter-thrust made his massive body lurch violently.
But he was too strong. He actually clamped down on Victor's lance shaft with brute force and yanked viciously with a savage grin.
"Get down here!"
Crack!
Victor instantly released the lance. At the same time, he kicked free of the stirrups and launched himself off the horse like a black panther. He flipped in mid-air and landed steadily on the ground.
His poor warhorse was brutally slammed by the Mountain's mount and collapsed in a pool of blood with a mournful cry.
"Mounted combat is over," Victor drew the fine steel longsword at his waist and rolled his neck. "Now… it's hunting time."
Seeing this, the Mountain also jumped off his horse. He discarded the lance and pulled out the terrifying two-handed greatsword from his back.
The sword was six feet long and as wide as a door panel.
"I'll peel open that pretty armor of yours like a tin can, then crush your skull!"
The Mountain advanced with heavy steps, each one leaving deep footprints in the sand.
Whoosh!
The greatsword swept horizontally, kicking up a storm of sand and dust.
The attack had enormous range and terrifying speed — impossible to dodge!
Sansa screamed and covered her eyes in the stands.
Cersei shot to her feet, crushing the wine cup in her hand. Red wine streamed down her fingers.
But Victor did not retreat.
[System Overclock Mode Activated! Adrenaline secretion +200%! Dynamic Vision Online!]
In his eyes, the Mountain's lightning-fast sword swing had slowed to a crawl.
He read the trajectory perfectly and slid sideways with an unbelievable movement. The greatsword slammed into the ground right beside his shoulder plate.
Boom!
A huge crater exploded in the sand, sending rocks flying.
Now!
Victor stepped onto the Mountain's sword blade like a black lightning bolt and closed the distance in an instant!
"You're too slow, big guy."
His fine steel longsword flashed with cold light and stabbed precisely into the back of the Mountain's knee — the weakest point in the plate armor.
Schlunk!
The blade sank deep, severing the tendon.
"AAAHHH!!!"
The Mountain let out a roar of agony. His left leg buckled, and his massive body involuntarily dropped to one knee.
But he was still the Mountain. Even in excruciating pain, he swung a backhanded punch at Victor.
Victor raised his shield to block.
Clang!
Even with system enhancements, Victor was knocked back three steps, his left arm numb from the impact.
"What terrifying strength…" Victor thought grimly. If he hadn't mixed Valyrian steel powder into the armor (in truth, it was all thanks to the Steelmaking Technique), the shield would have shattered.
The Mountain knelt on the ground, eyes blood-red, swinging his greatsword like a madman. Dust and sand flew everywhere.
Victor watched the cornered beast coldly.
He didn't waste words like the "Red Viper" would, demanding to know who sent him to kill.
He wasn't here to play judge.
He was here to win money, to establish dominance.
"It's over."
Victor took a deep breath and moved again.
This time, he circled to the Mountain's right blind spot.
The Mountain tried to turn, but the severed tendon made him a fraction too slow.
That fraction was the difference between life and death.
Victor leaped high into the air, gripping the sword with both hands. Using the force of his descent, he aimed the blade straight at the neck joint between the Mountain's helmet and breastplate!
"Die!"
Schlunk—!
The longsword sank in without resistance, buried to the hilt!
Hot blood erupted like a fountain from the gap, spraying all over Victor and dyeing the black armor a dark, bloody red.
The Mountain's enormous body froze.
A gurgling sound came from his throat as the greatsword slipped from his hands and crashed to the ground.
Then, this invincible giant toppled forward like a collapsing mountain, crashing heavily at Victor's feet.
He was dead.
The entire arena fell into absolute silence.
For three full seconds, not a single sound could be heard across the massive tourney ground — one could have heard a pin drop.
Then—
"ROAR!!!"
King Robert was the first to let out a beast-like bellow, slamming his fists on the railing. "Well done! Beautifully done! Now that's a true knight!"
The next moment, cheers exploded like a tsunami, threatening to tear the roof off the Red Keep!
"Pompey! Godslayer! Pompey! Godslayer!"
Amid the deafening roars,
Victor slowly pulled out his sword and flicked the blood off the blade. He didn't remove his helmet. Instead, he turned and pointed the bloodied sword tip toward a certain corner of the noble stands.
There, Littlefinger Petyr Baelish had collapsed into his chair, face ashen, looking like his soul had been sucked out.
It was over.
Fifty thousand gold dragons.
His cash flow, his brothels, part of his businesses… all gone.
A cruel smile curved Victor's lips beneath the visor.
[Ding! Congratulations, host, on completing the Epic Achievement: Fall of the Giant!] [Title Acquired: Godslayer (Your name will now quiet crying children across the Seven Kingdoms).] [Hidden Reward: S-rank Skill Book — [Master-level Lance Technique] has been granted!] [Special Item Acquired: Loyalty Steel Seal (Ready to use).] [Massive gambling winnings incoming. Family Wealth Rank upgraded to: Wealthy Beyond Measure!]
He looked up toward the higher platform at Cersei.
The Queen was gripping the railing tightly, breathing heavily, her eyes burning with a fire hot enough to melt him.
It was the look of submission and raw desire after witnessing absolute violence.
And then there was Sansa.
The young girl was crying tears of joy. In her eyes, the blood-covered figure was the legendary Saint George who had slain the dragon.
Victor sheathed his sword.
He stepped onto the Mountain's corpse and performed a knight's salute to the entire crowd.
At this moment, the underground king of King's Landing had changed.
At this moment, House Pompey officially announced —
We have stepped onto the table of power, trampling over bones and corpses!
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