Chapter 29:
Outside King's Landing, on the vast training field before the Lion Gate.
Today, King Tommen, Queen Regent Cersei, Queen Margaery, and all the high lords of the court had gathered here. The city walls were packed with commoners eager for a spectacle.
They had heard that the newly powerful "Hand of the King," Duke Victor Pompey — the man who had just settled the debt with the Iron Bank — was about to demonstrate a new weapon capable of "summoning thunder."
"Is it really that miraculous?"
Mace Tyrell (Margaery's father, the token attendee) fanned himself with a doubtful expression. "I heard it's just some iron tubes filled with black powder. Can it really be stronger than Highgarden's charging knights?"
Standing beside him, the Queen of Thorns, Olenna Redwyne, shot him a withering glance. "Mace, shut your mouth and open your eyes wide. That young man never plays empty games."
In the center of the training field.
There were no flashy suits of armor, no fluttering silk banners.
Only five hundred soldiers dressed in black uniforms and wearing tricorn hats (to prevent powder residue from falling into their eyes), their expressions cold and disciplined. Each man held a long iron tube with a wooden stock.
[System Troop Type: Pompey Musketeer Grenadiers (First Generation).]
[Equipment: Flintlock Smoothbore Muskets (skipped matchlocks for speed), bayonets, and grenades (black powder clay pots).]
One hundred paces in front of them stood fifty straw dummies. Each dummy was dressed in a full suit of plate armor taken from the Lannister armory.
That was the pinnacle of knightly defense — ordinary arrows couldn't penetrate it.
Victor rode a black horse to the front of the reviewing platform and drew his command saber.
"All units, prepare!"
His voice carried across the field through a speaking trumpet.
The five hundred soldiers moved in perfect unison, raising their muskets and taking aim.
"For the King! For Pompey!"
Victor slashed his saber downward.
"Fire!!!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
In an instant, deafening explosions thundered across the sky!
Thick white smoke billowed over the training field, and the acrid smell of sulfur instantly filled the air.
The watching commoners covered their ears in terror. Warhorses neighed in panic. Even the Gold Cloaks on the city walls nearly dropped their spears from fright.
When the smoke cleared.
The entire field fell deathly silent.
The crowd watched in horror as the fifty straw dummies clad in fine steel plate armor were now riddled with holes!
The supposedly impregnable breastplates were covered in finger-thick bullet holes. Some had been completely shattered, exposing the straw inside.
"Seven Gods above…"
Jaime Lannister (who had just returned from the Riverlands, missing one hand) stood beside Cersei, his face as pale as paper.
As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he understood better than anyone what this meant.
Those expensive-armored knights, trained for over a decade, were as fragile as paper in front of these peasants holding iron tubes.
The age of chivalry had ended.
But it wasn't over yet.
"Bring out the big one!" Victor ordered again.
Ten draft horses laboriously dragged a massive, pitch-black bronze cannon into position.
[System Weapon: 12-pounder Napoleon Cannon (Muzzle-loading smoothbore).]
[Nickname: God of War.]
The cannon's muzzle was aimed at an abandoned stone house five hundred paces away.
"Fire!"
BOOM——!!!
This time the explosion made the earth itself tremble.
A solid iron cannonball whistled through the air with destructive force and slammed into the stone house.
Crash!
The stone house collapsed as if struck by a giant's fist. Rocks flew everywhere, dust billowed into the sky.
King Tommen's mouth hung open, his eyes filled with a little boy's awe at the explosion. "Wow! That's so cool! Uncle Victor! I want to play with that too!"
Cersei gripped the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles turned white.
This kind of power… if used to attack the Red Keep…
She looked at Victor with a mixture of fear and dependence. Thankfully, this man was on her side.
…
After the review, in the command tent.
Victor was giving his final instructions.
The Northern Expedition was imminent. He would take all the elite forces (musketeers, Teutonic Knights, the Hound, Shadow Guards). Someone had to stay behind to guard King's Landing.
"Lady Olenna."
Victor looked at the sharp old woman before him.
"While I am gone, the governance of King's Landing will be jointly handled by you and Kevan Lannister (Tywin's more stable brother)."
"Keep an eye on Cersei. Don't let her do anything foolish. If those Faith zealots dare cause trouble…" Victor's eyes flashed with cold light, "…tell them my cannons haven't been cleaned yet."
The Queen of Thorns' cloudy eyes sparkled with cunning. "Rest assured, Lord Pompey. I will keep that lioness in check. But are you really going to the Wall? For a bunch of wildlings and some ghost stories?"
"Those ghost stories are real, my lady."
Victor adjusted his cloak. "And if I don't stop them, your rose gardens in Highgarden will eventually be buried under snow and ice."
He then turned to Maester Qyburn in the corner.
"Continue your research. I want more and stronger 'bio-warriors.' But remember — keep them hidden. Don't let them lose their heads in the streets again."
"As you command, my lord." Qyburn's eyes gleamed with mad curiosity.
…
At noon, the army set out.
This was no ordinary army.
The vanguard consisted of fully armored Teutonic Knights — a steel wall.
The center was five hundred musketeer grenadiers — the scythe of Death.
The rear was a massive wagon train carrying cannons and countless supplies (including white sugar, strong liquor, and winter clothing).
Victor sat on his horse and glanced back at the Red Keep one last time.
Cersei stood on the highest balcony, watching him from afar. A red silk scarf fluttered in the wind.
"Let's go."
Victor turned away, no longer lingering.
A hero's tomb lies in the arms of a beautiful woman.
The icy snows of the North — that is a man's battlefield.
"Destination: The Wall!"
"We're going to give those Others… a little warmth!"
The army moved like a black dragon, marching northward along the Kingsroad in a mighty column.
A few days later, they passed Harrenhal and the Twins.
Victor did not stop. He directly conscripted two thousand auxiliary troops from the Riverlands.
At the same time, he picked up Sansa and Arya at Pompey Manor.
"Are we going home?" Sansa asked, tears in her eyes as the Northern scenery grew closer.
"No. We are going to save our home," Victor said, holding her hand.
Arya, on the other hand, excitedly touched the cannons. "Is this the thing that can blow up castle walls? Victor, can you teach me how to fire one?"
"Of course — as long as you don't mind burning off your own eyebrows."
…
Half a month later.
The North, Winterfell — currently occupied by House Bolton, but Robb, with Victor's support, was launching a counteroffensive. Or rather, Victor decided to bypass Winterfell and head straight for the Wall due to the urgency.
Considering the dire situation, Victor split his forces into two.
"Robb (now reunited), take the Northern lords and retake Winterfell. Get rid of that flayed bastard Bolton."
Victor pointed at the map.
"Give me two thousand warhorses. I will lead the firearm troops and rush to reinforce the Wall at full speed."
"Jon Snow won't be able to hold much longer."
The cold wind howled.
The farther north they went, the heavier the snow became.
Victor felt an unnatural chill in the air — the cold of magic.
[System Warning! Approaching high-magic zone!]
[Large number of undead signatures detected! Distance: 50 miles!]
[The Wall's durability: 30% (Black Castle defensive line is about to collapse).]
Victor narrowed his eyes and looked at the towering Wall of ice rising like a cloud on the horizon.
In the distance, he could vaguely see hordes of wights climbing the Wall like ants.
On top of the Wall, the faint beacon fires flickered like candles in the wind.
"Full speed ahead!"
Victor drew the greatsword Ice. Its rippling patterns gleamed coldly in the wind and snow.
"Let the Others see…"
"What it means when the times have changed!"
The army advanced like a black dragon, charging northward through the blizzard.
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