Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 61: The City Watch of King's Landing

The sky was just beginning to lighten.

Within the barracks, four or five hundred pairs of living eyes remained, all trembling as they gazed upon the terrifying Lava Warrior.

The monster, clad in crimson, invincible armor, unleashed a torrent of fire, creating a landscape of charred corpses. The pungent odor was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and no one dared to resist any longer.

The Hound wiped a smear of blood from his face.

"Listen up! Former Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish, and former Master of Whisperers, Varys, are plotting treason. By order of His Majesty the King, the City Watch of King's Landing will immediately apprehend these traitors, sealing the city gates. Any resistance is to be met with lethal force!"

"I am in command. Anyone object?"

The Hound grinned savagely, as if anticipating tearing apart more humans and savoring their fresh flesh.

Silence.

"Good. If you'd obeyed from the start, none of this would have happened. A bunch of fools, forgetting who gave you these gold cloaks."

The Hound began relaying Prince Joffrey's orders.

"Reorganize into fifty squads, each with eight men. You'll choose the squad leaders, understood, Grey Rat?"

The man beside the Hound nodded silently, then walked into the crowd to select familiar faces.

The Hound paced back and forth. "Five squads will be stationed at each of the seven city gates, allowing neither entry nor exit.

And you yourselves are not to move an inch.

Forget about dukes, earls, ministers, or wealthy merchants. Even if you see your wife being gang-raped by beggars in some corner, you'll damn well wait until tomorrow!"

The gold cloaks exchanged uneasy glances.

"The other fifteen squads will come with me to your headquarters. There are plenty of traitors there. Remember, they are no longer your comrades."

The Hound chuckled again, the burn scars on his left cheek widening into crimson fissures.

"The remaining few dozen will stay here on standby, searching the corpses and buildings. If even one rat slips out of the barracks…"

The Hound didn't finish the sentence, leaving the gold cloaks with plenty of room for imagination.

Grey Rat had already chosen the fifty squad leaders.

The Hound held out a hand. "I'll count to five. Form up by squads! Five, four…"

The gold cloaks' hearts pounded involuntarily. They frantically pushed aside their neighbors, scrambling to find their positions, the crowd instantly descending into chaos.

"Two…"

Some of the men were completely bewildered. Others, fearing implication, dragged the cowards directly into the ranks.

"One. Not bad."

"Grey Rat, personally cut a lock of hair from everyone and bring it to me. If they're bald, other hair will do."

Grey Rat was confused, but he could only obey.

Taking the hair used as a locator, the Hound nodded in satisfaction and slowly walked to the far left of the neatly arranged fifty squads.

He patted each squad leader on the shoulder.

"You five squads go to Dragon Gate, you're in charge. You five squads go to Iron Gate, you lead…"

Seven squad leaders were appointed as temporary commanders, their hearts filled with conflicting emotions. Was this a good thing? Was it a bad thing?

"Do your jobs well. Don't worry, I'll remember your faces."

The Hound's gaze swept over the entire group.

Far more than seven officers felt their hearts stop and cold sweat break out.

"Move out immediately! I'll count to ten, and you'd better be completely out of my sight. Ten, nine…"

The gold cloaks moved out with a speed they had never shown before, like a well-trained elite army.

Watching the thirty-five squads march out of the gate, the Hound turned to the fifteen squads staring expectantly at him. "What are you waiting for? Get your horses, and let's go. Your former commander, Janos Slynt, is also a traitor. Kill him!"

Although most of the gold cloaks were infantry, there were still over a hundred horses in the stables, as the Hound had known all along.

The sky gradually brightened.

The entire city was awakening, and the noise created by the gold cloaks accelerated the process.

The broad Street of the Silent Sisters had originally only a few scattered pedestrians, but the chaotic sound of hooves and angry shouts reverberated through the streets, instantly awakening countless dreamers along the way.

Pedestrians frantically hid in alleys and street corners. Many windows opened, and faces peered out.

They saw an ominous sight. Hundreds of cavalrymen galloped wildly, each clad in armor and wielding weapons. Some were covered in glaring blood and traces of burning flames.

The leading knight wore an exquisite, cold Hound helm. Some recognized it. "The Hound."

The Hound led his team straight to the central square, then turned northwest toward Cobbler's Square, near the headquarters of the City Watch of King's Landing, which would become the biggest battlefield today.

The gold cloaks' headquarters was now both quiet and strange.

The snores coming from the various rooms were noticeably fewer than usual.

The reason was simple.

Some knew that action would be taken today, some knew that action would be taken recently;

Some knew that someone might take action today, some knew that they were in danger recently;

Some keenly sensed the strange atmosphere.

In any case, they all knew that they were deeply mired in a vortex. How could they sleep soundly?

The Mud Gate Captain, "Ironhand" Jacelyn Bywater, was one of them, and a particularly special one at that: a double agent, no, a triple agent.

He came from a minor branch of the Bywater family, of low status. He was knighted by the King for his service in quelling Balon Greyjoy's rebellion, for which he also lost his right hand, earning him the nickname "Ironhand."

He had been the Mud Gate Captain for three years. No one said he was dishonorable or unbrave, but no one knew that he had a relationship with the infamous Master of Whisperers, Varys.

And recently, people from both the Lannisters and the Master of Coin had come to him, and he had become one of theirs as well.

A veritable triple agent.

Because of this identity, he should be one of the few who knew the most detailed and comprehensive information about what was about to happen.

The Lannisters wanted to launch a coup while King Robert was away from King's Landing, promoting the Crown Prince to the throne. The two loyal ministers were forced to fight back, quell the Lannister conspiracy, and report the good news to the King. This was the script written by the two ministers.

But was this the truth? Would it become the truth? Ironhand doubted it.

Which side should I choose?

He stared blankly at the dim ceiling, until a noisy sound came from the camp gate, becoming louder and clearer.

Ironhand immediately grabbed the sword by the bed and stood guard inside the door.

He heard wooden doors being kicked open, chaotic footsteps from left to right, from right to left, the clanging of swords, excited shouts, painful howls…

Before long, the sizzling sound of roasting meat and desperate screams of humans suddenly rang out outside.

Ironhand shuddered. What was that sound?

But this was only a brief prelude. The roar of flames soon drowned out all other sounds.

So hot!

He immediately took a few steps back, away from the walls and the burning fire outside the door.

Bang!

His door was kicked open, and in the dazzling red armor was a familiar face.

Ironhand threw aside his longsword and knelt on one knee. "Lord Sandor, I, Jacelyn Bywater, captain of the Mud Gate, am ready to serve you and His Highness at any time!"

The Hound glanced at him. "You're wrong. You serve His Majesty."

Ironhand sincerely changed his words. "Yes, yes, I'm too nervous. Of course, it's His Majesty's will. Long live His Majesty!"

The Hound helped him up. "It's too chaotic here. You can identify the traitors for me."

Ironhand breathed a sigh of relief.

The Hound was about to continue clearing up the trouble, but at this moment, the Prince's instructions came to his mind: "The gold cloaks sent to Mud Gate are killing each other. The rebellious side has a dozen mercenaries helping them. Stop them."

The Hound took out the hair of the gold cloaks and used magic to sense them. Their positions were all normal. The people sent to Mud Gate were already approaching Fisherman's Square.

But not running away didn't mean there were no other situations.

This was a bit troublesome. The Hound was quite surprised. What benefits did the Spider and Littlefinger give them to dare to cause trouble again?

Mud Gate needed people, but the Red Keep needed people even more. He couldn't split himself in two.

Then…

The Hound couldn't help but look at Ironhand, who had just stood up.

It's you.

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