The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Chapter 382: Escape, Begging for Mercy, the Imp is Serious!

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The Dragon Gate was illuminated like daylight by the torches.

The Mountain and the Imp were there with their guards to welcome Lord Tywin.

The Duke wore a golden cloak, and his horse was covered with a blanket woven with gold thread, slowly approaching surrounded by the lords of the Westerlands.

"Mountain, my old man's horse blanket is enough for us to spend some time in Chataya's brothel."

"Is it all gold?"

"Some of the silk mixed in with the gold thread, shipped from the Narrow Sea, is more precious than gold."

"The Lannisters are richer than the country."

Tyrion looked at Bronn and Shagga beside him: "If my old man ignores me after this battle, I'll be bankrupt." He had to pay a large sum of money to Bronn and Shagga who protected him, and of course, Conn. Only Podrick Payne, that silly boy, wouldn't want money, as long as he had food to eat and followed Tyrion, the boy would be happy as if he had no other needs.

Duke Tywin slowly arrived at the Dragon Gate, in front of the crowd welcoming him. Even standing, the Mountain was almost as tall as Duke Tywin on horseback. Duke Tywin was not short, and when he stood with his vassals and generals, the Duke was always half a head taller than others.

The Mountain's body was majestic, and the Duke, riding on a tall horse, still made the Duke look slender.

"Mountain, you won this war," Duke Tywin said, his voice full of majesty.

"Father, without Tyrion leading an army to attack from the King's Gate, I wouldn't have been able to win this victory."

Duke Tywin's eyes turned to the dwarf beside the Mountain. Tyrion raised his head and chest, with a smile on his face: "I am a Lannister, Father."

"You charged ahead?"

"Father, in the Battle of the Green Fork, I think I have proven my courage."

"How many did you kill?"

Tyrion stretched out his hands, counting the fingers of his right hand with his left hand: "A spearman, a knight. The knight desperately begged me for mercy, but I still chopped off his hands. And an archer who lost his bow, he held the arrow in his hand to poke my face, but my warhorse was not vegetarian, it kicked his thigh, and then my axe came at his face. When the warriors shouted 'Long live the Imp', I felt like I was floating, it was a feeling of happiness and intoxication, I think that's the war fever that Jaime often tells me about."

"Lord Tyrion is very brave, his weapon is an extremely sharp battle axe," the Mountain said.

"Oh, Tyrion was the key to winning this battle?!"

"Yes, Father, the Mountain followed behind me, shouting, 'Lord Tyrion, charge, charge, don't let Stannis run away.' I said, 'Mountain, hide quickly, don't let the enemy see you, be careful of Stannis' archers.'"

The Imp's last voice was pretentious, turning into a female voice, and everyone laughed! A knight laughed so hard that tears came out, and Adam Marbrand almost fell off his horse from laughing.

But one person didn't laugh: Tywin Lannister.

He stared at Tyrion deeply, and rode his horse into the Dragon Gate.

Tyrion hurriedly jumped on his horse and followed his father. The generals of the Westerlands paused slightly, giving way to the Mountain.

The Mountain commanded the Battle of King's Landing, personally beheading Stannis Baratheon, with outstanding military achievements, unmatched by anyone. Before arriving at the Dragon Gate, Duke Tywin had received news from scouts and learned some details of the war. He showed no joy, but praised the Mountain in front of the generals. When he arrived at the Dragon Gate, although the Duke did not praise the Mountain, the generals understood that the Mountain's status was different from the past, and they consciously gave way to the position beside Duke Tywin. If the Mountain didn't go, no one would step forward.

The Mountain's military achievements were too great, making all the generals of the Westerlands envious and jealous!

The Imp walked on his father's left, and the Mountain walked on his right.

The Imp had a very important question to ask his father.

"Father, where is Jaime?"

Duke Tywin didn't even look at Tyrion: "Your genius plan to break the prison failed. Jaime and the warriors you sent were recognized by Edmure Tully on the streets of Riverrun. Except for Jaime, the rest were all killed by Edmure's guards."

The Imp felt like he had been punched hard in the chest.

"Father, didn't you think of other ways?"

"Jaime was thrown into the black prison, chained and locked on the huge stone wall, what do you want me to think of?"

Tyrion couldn't believe it. His father's tone clearly meant that he had given up on Jaime and let him fend for himself. Tyrion felt like he was suffocating and fainting. Damn it, how could this be? He is your heir to Casterly Rock, how could you give up on him so easily? Are you heartless or iron-hearted?

"There must be a way, we have Sansa in our hands," the Imp heard his own voice without confidence.

"A little girl in exchange for Jaime?" the Duke said lightly.

"You gave up on him?" the Imp stared at his father.

"No one, including myself, can be higher than the name of Lannister. The honor and glory of the family are above everything else, and anyone can be sacrificed for the family," the Duke said lightly.

"Bastard!" Tyrion cursed in his heart, "He is your future heir to the Westerlands. If you lose Jaime, who will you let inherit the Westerlands in the future? You can even give up on Jaime, you bastard, bastard, bastard!"

"Father, Jaime is your future heir to the Westerlands."

"Humph!" the Duke snorted.

Tyrion's heart suddenly turned ice-cold. He felt that his father was too far away from him, he didn't understand what kind of person this guy covered in gold was. A sense of unfamiliarity was overwhelming, engulfing him.

"Tyrion, you are a smart man. If we have Sansa, Arya, and Eddard Stark in our hands, there is no problem exchanging Jaime. Relying on a little girl Sansa alone can only prevent them from killing Jaime so quickly."

"Why not negotiate?"

"You want the Lannisters to seek peace from the Tully family and the Stark family, say good things and make concessions?" Duke Tywin said coldly, "What's the difference between that and begging for mercy?"

"Wise negotiation is not a sign of weakness, let alone begging for mercy."

"There is no negotiation, what I want is destruction. Lannisters always pay their debts. I hope you remember this sentence firmly."

A chill rushed from the soles of Tyrion Lannister's feet, instantly filling his body, causing Tyrion to shiver slightly.

He looked at the Mountain on the right. The Mountain was expressionless, looking ahead, as if he hadn't heard the Duke and Tyrion's conversation at all.

"Father, I'm not feeling well. I was sore from chopping people last night, and I drank something after the battle. I need to go to the outhouse."

The generals laughed.

The Imp was in a sad mood, and his emotions were extremely low. He and Jaime had deep brotherly feelings, but his father, for the sake of the Lannister's face and dignity, and to maintain that pitiful 'Lannisters always pay their debts,' could abandon Jaime without hesitation, which he couldn't accept at all. His mood was extremely bad, and he suddenly rode away. Bronn, Shagga, and Conn followed, and he waved his hand to let them follow the Duke back to the Red Keep first. He rode alone into the darkness.

Tyrion was muddleheaded, a voice kept ringing softly in his ear, it was Cersei's voice chasing him: You killed Jaime, Tyrion, you always thought you were smart, but your self-righteousness killed Jaime.

He wandered around the streets and alleys of King's Landing. When he finally calmed down, he found himself riding a horse in the middle of an abandoned courtyard. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, and going out along the alley in front of the courtyard would lead to Steel Street Avenue, and after a few turns, he could enter the house rented for Shae.

And in a weed in the courtyard, there was a hole. Going in, he could enter the underground secret passage of the Red Keep. If the direction was correct, he could enter the Tower of the Hand, and go out from the study or the fireplace in the bedroom of the Tower of the Hand.

This secret passage was the secret passage he used to sneak out of the Tower of the Hand at night to meet Shae in the big courtyard on Steel Gate, when Shae had not yet become Sansa's handmaiden.

Littlefinger told him about this secret passage.

He actually came here. The Imp shook his head, suddenly thinking of Shae very much, thinking of Shae's body and her eyes, and her pair of magical little hands.

The Imp uncontrollably wanted to see Shae.

But he could no longer enter from the tunnel, because tonight, the Tower of the Hand no longer belonged to him, but to the person who could ruthlessly abandon his son - Duke Tywin of the Westerlands. That was not a father, that was a person made of ice and snow: cold and ruthless, with absolutely no warmth.

Tyrion decided to return to the Red Keep, he was going to see Shae.

The Imp pulled the horse around and came to the dim street. In front of him, a white figure was riding on a horse. Because he was backlit, he couldn't see his face clearly.

But Tyrion knew who he was, he was familiar with this person's characteristics.

In an instant, Tyrion was covered in cold sweat.

Mandon Moore!

Although Mandon Moore didn't move, Tyrion didn't hesitate at all. He reached out and touched his waist, but there was no axe. He was not reconciled, and finally touched a knife hilt or a sword hilt. He didn't care, he pulled it out first, it was a palm-length small dagger.

In the shadows, Mandon Moore seemed to let out a sneer, but it was actually Tyrion's hallucination, and his face was hot for a while.

He never expected that Cersei would actually take action!

But how did she know that he would leave his father's team alone? Tyrion's mind suddenly became clear, and various scenes flashed before his eyes. Mandon Moore had been in the team welcoming his father, so as soon as he left alone, Mandon Moore had been following him, so in fact, his old sister had already issued a kill order against him, and Mandon Moore was just waiting for an opportunity...

Despair flooded Tyrion.

The Mountain had warned him, but he always felt that Cersei would not attack him before and after the war when Stannis led his army to attack.

But obviously, he underestimated Cersei's determination and also underestimated Cersei's stupidity. Tyrion suddenly understood everything. Cersei wanted Mandon Moore to kill him in the chaos of the army, but Bronn and Shagga and Conn had been following him... In the face of the enemy, Cersei had already issued a kill order against Tyrion... How crazy and stupid would she have to be to do such a thing?! During the war, it was time to unite and work together to deal with the enemy, but Cersei was single-mindedly trying to kill him...

Tyrion desperately turned his horse's head and ran quickly into the alley. The small dagger in his hand was like a small toy, and also like a pale sneer from the Grim Reaper.

Behind him was the clear sound of Mandon Moore drawing his long sword: clang!

The sound carried a chilling killing intent, piercing Tyrion's eardrums like a sharp needle.

Mandon Moore slowly rode his horse into the alley, not panicking at all. He knew that this alley was a dead end, a dead alley. The end in front was an abandoned courtyard, and Tyrion had no way to escape.

Mandon Moore flicked his wrist, the long sword shimmering with cold light, and the sword flowers bloomed skillfully, one by one.

Tyrion rushed like a bereaved dog, quickly arriving at the abandoned courtyard. There was no way forward, but there was a hole in the weeds leading directly to the Tower of the Hand.

Tyrion didn't hesitate at all, escaping was serious!

Tyrion dismounted, waving his dagger to scare the horse, and threw stones at the horse from the ground, finally driving the horse out of the courtyard. - If the horse stood where he crawled into the hole, Mandon Moore would quickly discover the hole and crawl in to chase him.

Tyrion pulled aside the weeds and crawled into the hole he had entered countless times. Carefully, he restored the weeds to their original state.

Mandon Moore came in unhurriedly, not slowly riding his horse, he saw Tyrion's horse, and the horse was empty.

Mandon Moore was a very cold person, and rarely spoke in peacetime, and at this time he would not speak, the sound of horseshoes got, he drove his horse into the courtyard, the abandoned courtyard was not big, and it was clear at a glance, there was no figure of a lovely little dwarf.

There were weeds in the yard, although not very long, but the little dwarf was not tall.

Mandon Moore drove his warhorse, waving his long sword, and the weeds fell in pieces. He was very patient, he decided to cut down all the weeds in the yard unhurriedly, so that Tyrion would have nowhere to escape.

Suddenly, Mandon Moore stopped waving his sword, he gently turned his horse's head, his long sword across his chest, and said nothing.

At the mouth of the alley, the sound of horseshoes was as dense as rain, coming towards this side.

Soon, a figure appeared at the gate of the courtyard, a small figure on horseback. With the light of the torches lit all over the city to celebrate the victory, Mandon Moore saw that the person who came was Podrick Payne.

Tyrion's personal little servant.

Mandon Moore turned around and started cutting grass again.

Clang!

The shy child drew his long sword, as if he had changed into a different person, and shouted sharply: "Sir Mandon Moore, where is my master?"

Every time Tyrion came out of the hole to secretly meet Shae, Bronn would come here to prepare a horse and cloak for him. Podrick did not know that this was where his master went in and out to steal chickens.

Mandon Moore continued to cut grass, the sword was sharp, and with a gentle wave, large swaths of weeds fell, and then, Mandon Moore saw a hole.

He jumped off his horse, which was a fatal mistake.

"Sir, my master's horse is here, where is he?" Podrick's words contained a deadly threat.

Mandon Moore had never taken Podrick seriously, and he had not paid attention to him since Podrick appeared.

The sound of horses' hooves suddenly rang out just as Mandon Moore was preparing to crouch down and enter the hole to pursue Tyrion.

Podrick's courage was something Mandon Moore couldn't comprehend.

He was just a child, what did he know about swordsmanship?!

Normally, Podrick was a boy who blushed when he saw a maid and was shy around strangers, but he couldn't draw his sword. Once he did, he possessed astonishing bravery.

Mandon Moore had to straighten his back, turn around, and kill this annoying little fellow first.

A flash of cold light, and Podrick's sword came down fiercely.

Riding the might of the warhorse, the child came very fast!

He was thirteen years old!

Clang!

With a loud crash, Mandon Moore swung his sword to parry the blow, his arm faintly numb. Podrick's sword almost slipped from his hand, but the child showed no fear. He squeezed his legs, and the warhorse's front hooves reared up, the horseshoes kicking towards Mandon Moore's face.

The knight nimbly jumped away – the war was over, and he had removed his plate armor and helmet, making him as light as a feather and agile – his longsword swung out, a flash of sword light, and the warhorse neighed, its two legs severed by the sword.

Boom!

Amidst the splashing blood, the warhorse fell. Podrick jumped off its back, rolled on the ground, and Mandon Moore strode forward in pursuit, his longsword slashing at the child. With a clang, sparks flew, and the longsword cut a deep mark in the ground. The child rolled away close to the ground, stood up, and charged at Mandon Moore, wielding his sword with both hands, shouting as he vertically chopped at the knight's face.

Mandon Moore swung his sword to block, and with a flying kick, knocked the child over.

The kick was too powerful, and the child's internal organs twisted in pain, making it difficult for him to get up for a moment.

From the start of the battle until now, Mandon Moore finally spoke his first words: "You asked for it." The knight said calmly, swinging his longsword and fiercely chopping at the child.

The child desperately blocked from the ground, but the knight's swordsmanship was superb. The downward chop was just a feint. With a twist of his wrist, the longsword drew an arc, turning into an upward slash. With a loud clang, Podrick's longsword was knocked away.

Suddenly, a strange noise came from behind. Mandon Moore turned his head, and a black shadow came close to the ground. A cold light flashed in its hand, and a small dagger pierced into his thigh with a whoosh, burying itself to the hilt. The knight was struck with pain, his longsword slashing along the ground, fiercely chopping at the attacker, aiming to disembowel him from bottom to top.

The attacker rolled and crawled, falling into the grass, narrowly avoiding the blow.

Mandon Moore stepped forward, his longsword swinging down. The dwarf shouted to wait, but the sword light howled down, leaving no room for negotiation. The dwarf rolled again in a hurry, and the longsword, carrying a cold wind, chopped down beside him, cutting off the hem of his clothes.

"Spare me, knight." The Imp was utterly spineless, using both hands and feet to get away from the knight. "No matter how much my sister gives you, I'll double it."

Mandon Moore coldly snorted. The dwarf had retreated to the corner, with no way to retreat.

He staggered forward, holding his longsword up. Fear flashed in the dwarf's eyes, which pleased him. "Imp, I'm acting on orders, don't blame me!" Suddenly, a pain in his waist. A longsword pierced into his waist and abdomen. Mandon Moore roared and struck back, slamming the hilt of his sword with all his might, knocking Podrick away. The child crashed to the ground, struggled a few times, but couldn't get up.

"Knight, put down your sword, we can talk. Money, women, status, anything can be discussed. You name a price, and I won't bargain."

Begging for mercy, he was serious!

A cruel smile appeared on Mandon Moore's face: the Imp was about to die, but he was still playing tricks. What he hated most was the demon's glib tongue.

The knight raised the longsword in his hand and fiercely chopped down.

The Imp still had the strength to dodge, but he was already at the corner, with no space to dodge.

The Imp suddenly charged forward. The sword light howled, growing bigger and bigger in his eyes, instantly filling his pupils...

Pfft!

A cruel sound of tearing flesh, the longsword swung down diagonally, hitting the Imp's face!

The Imp fell down. In the instant of losing consciousness, he saw the starry sky under the blue night...