Chapter 25:
The tourney grounds of King's Landing.
The midday sun was still bright, but the air carried an unsettling stench of decay.
That smell came from the Queen's champion.
A giant nearly eight feet tall, fully encased in thick white plate armor, with not even his eyes visible. He remained completely silent from beginning to end, like a walking tomb.
Ser Robert Strong.
The reanimated, necromantically stitched "bio-Mountain" created by Qyburn.
"Is this what you call a knight?"
Tyrion Lannister stood in the defendant's box, looking at the monster, his heart sinking. "Victor, are you sure that Dornish prince can beat this pile of… rotting meat?"
Victor Pompey stood behind him with arms crossed, his gaze deep and calm.
"As long as he keeps his mouth shut."
On the field.
The "Red Viper" Oberyn Martell wore light leather armor and wielded a spear coated in deadly poison. He stared at the monster with hatred that seemed ready to erupt.
"Elia Martell! You raped her! You murdered her children!"
"Say her name!!"
Whoosh!
The fight began.
It was an extreme clash between speed and raw power.
The Red Viper moved like a nimble wasp, circling and stinging the lumbering giant. His spear struck like a striking snake, repeatedly piercing the gaps in the armor.
"Roooar…"
The bio-Mountain let out a low, guttural roar and swung his massive sword in wide arcs. Though his strikes carried immense force, his movements were noticeably stiffer than when he was alive.
Schlunk!
With a beautiful sliding maneuver, the Red Viper's spear pierced deep into the Mountain's knee joint (the knee again — history repeats itself in the most ironic ways).
The giant crashed to the ground.
The crowd erupted in cheers! Tyrion nearly jumped with excitement.
However, Victor's pupils suddenly contracted.
Here it comes — the death moment from the original story.
Oberyn did not deliver the finishing blow. Blinded by hatred, he discarded his spear, drew his sword, and circled the fallen giant, roaring:
"You are not allowed to die! Not until you confess! Who ordered you?! Was it Tywin Lannister?!"
He got too close.
Just as Oberyn tried to press the blade against the Mountain's throat to force a confession—
The "corpse" that should have been incapacitated suddenly shot out a massive hand and grabbed Oberyn's ankle!
"Ah!"
Oberyn lost his balance and fell.
The Mountain rolled over and pinned him down. That iron fist, carrying the power to crush everything, smashed toward Oberyn's face!
"Die! Just like that screaming whore!" (Even in death, the Mountain's muscle memory remained.)
It was over.
Tyrion closed his eyes in despair.
A vicious, triumphant grin spread across Cersei's face.
At that critical moment—
Victor, seated in the stands, moved his fingers slightly.
[System Skill Activated: Mental Pierce!] [Target: Robert Strong (Undead creature).] [Effect: Forcibly disrupt corpse control nerves for 0.5 seconds!]
0.5 seconds meant nothing to ordinary people.
But in a life-or-death duel, it was a miracle.
The Mountain's fist, about to smash Oberyn's skull, froze unnaturally in mid-air — like a wind-up toy whose mechanism had suddenly jammed.
That single instant was all it took.
Oberyn Martell, the battle-hardened prince, seized the opening Death had given him.
He didn't waste time talking or demanding answers.
His dagger flashed in a reverse grip and stabbed precisely through the slit in the Mountain's helmet visor — straight into the eye socket!
Schlunk!
"AAAHHH!!!"
The Mountain let out a scream that no longer sounded human.
But it wasn't over.
Following Victor's earlier warning to "keep your mouth shut," Oberyn acted with ruthless efficiency. He yanked out the dagger, then grabbed the fallen spear with both hands and drove it with all his strength into the Mountain's throat!
Crack!
The sound of a neck vertebra snapping.
The terrifying mountain of flesh finally went still.
"Ha… ha…"
Oberyn pushed the corpse away, breathing heavily. His face was covered in blood. He touched his own face in shock — his head was still attached.
He turned and looked toward Victor in the stands.
Victor raised his wine cup to him with a small smile.
He had been saved!
But the real show had only just begun.
During the struggle, the Mountain's helmet strap had been cut.
As the corpse fell, the massive full-face helmet rolled aside with a clatter.
The entire arena fell deathly silent.
Then, screams erupted — a thousand times more terrified than before!
Because beneath that armor was not a human face.
It was a purple-black, stitched-up corpse face, with maggots writhing in the eye sockets!
"Seven Gods above! This is sorcery!"
"A dead man! He's a dead man!"
"Queen Cersei used black magic! This is blasphemy against the gods!"
The High Septon stood up trembling and pointed at Cersei. "Your Grace! What is this?! You allowed an undead creature to step onto the sacred field of combat?!"
Cersei's face turned deathly pale.
She looked toward Qyburn, who was also pale with terror.
It was over.
In a world that worshipped the Seven, the use of necromancy was an absolute taboo — a hundred times worse than incest!
"This is heresy!"
Victor Pompey stood up.
He had no intention of missing this chance to kick a fallen enemy.
"As a member of the Small Council, I cannot tolerate such blasphemy!"
Victor's voice rang out with righteous fury. "Queen Cersei! You must give the Seven Kingdoms an explanation! Lord Tywin! Was this also done with your approval?!"
Tywin Lannister's face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot.
He had calculated everything, but he hadn't anticipated the helmet falling off, nor that the monster would be exposed.
At this moment, House Lannister's reputation had hit rock bottom.
"Arrest him!" Tywin decisively sacrificed the pawn to save the king, pointing at Qyburn. "This madman deceived the Queen! Execute him!"
But it was already too late.
The furious crowd began surging against the barriers.
"Burn the witch Cersei! Burn the Lannisters!"
…
In the chaos.
Victor walked to the edge of the fighting ground.
Oberyn Martell was being supported by his attendants. Though injured, his eyes burned with terrifying intensity.
"Pompey."
Oberyn spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. "That moment just now… you did something, didn't you? Don't deny it. The monster's movement froze for an instant."
"That was the will of the gods, Your Highness."
Victor handed him a clean handkerchief. "The gods didn't want you to die because… some people still haven't died yet."
Oberyn took the handkerchief, wiped the blood from his face, and revealed a savage, wild smile.
"I owe you a life, Victor."
"From today onward, the spears of Dorne answer to you."
[Ding! Congratulations, host, on defying fate!] [Key Character: Red Viper (Survived).] [Dorne Faction Reputation Unlocked: Reverence!] [Acquired Powerful Ally: House Martell (Possesses 20,000 elite spearmen)!]
Victor looked at the chaotic scene in King's Landing.
Tyrion had been declared innocent on the spot (though Tywin very much wanted to kill him, the result of a trial by combat was considered divine judgment).
Cersei, due to the "sorcery scandal," would soon face trial by the Faith — the infamous "Walk of Atonement."
"Next…"
Victor glanced at Lord Tywin, who was being escorted away by the Kingsguard while the crowd surged around him.
"Tyrion survived. Will that crossbow still find its way to the old man sitting on the privy?"
Victor narrowed his eyes.
If it didn't, he wouldn't mind… helping that crossbow find its string.
After all, only when the old lion was dead would the realm truly have no master.
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