The Mountain of Ice and Fire

"No!" Mace Tyrell stood up. "Trial by combat! Trial by combat! Brienne should have a trial by combat."

However, his voice was drowned out by the clamor of the courtiers and the exclamations of the ladies-in-waiting—because the Mountain had stood up and strode forward, the human-skinned beast with a fierce glint in his eyes.

"No!" Despair rose in Mace Tyrell's heart—the Small Council should have been judging Brienne, that was the planned course of events, why had things suddenly spiraled out of control? Why had such an astonishing change suddenly occurred, why had the Mountain become Brienne's champion?!

With the Mountain stepping forward, Loras Tyrell's life was in danger.

He was no match for the Mountain!

Moreover, it was rumored that the Mountain had seized the Stark family of the North's Valyrian steel sword: Ice!

Where was Duke Tywin? He was sitting at the table of the Small Council, why didn't he stop the Mountain?

Why?

Things were a mess, a mess, a mess!

The Mountain's every step echoed in the hall, he moved like a mountain, his aura unmatched.

The Great Hall was filled with noise, King Joffrey stood up excitedly, his face a mixture of surprise and joy.

Poor Lord Mace Tyrell's voice was drowned out by the excitement, elation, fear, worry, encouragement, schadenfreude, and other sounds in the hall.

Brienne stared at Loras: "You are blinded by prejudice, your honor clouded by anger, your mind obscured by grief. If you want me dead, then let the Seven render judgment."

"Hmph, when the sun sets, candles cannot replace it. Once I kill the Mountain, I will kill you. With Renly dead, you cannot escape the charge of dereliction of duty."

The sun, naturally, referred to Renly. In Loras's heart, Renly's death meant his sun had set, and the rest of his life was darkness.

When the sun sets, candles cannot replace it!—expressing the boundless grief in Loras's heart!

A man strode out from the courtiers, burly, with a resolute face, taller and stronger than Loras Tyrell.

"Loras, let me be your champion."

Loras's older brother, the second son of Lord Mace, Garlan Tyrell, had arrived. He had a nickname: Garlan the Gallant.

When Garlan Tyrell was young, he was weak, and even the children of the family's vassals could bully him. Mace's heir, his eldest son Willas Tyrell, gave him the moniker: Garlan the Gallant, to encourage his younger brother.

To live up to the name 'Gallant', Garlan trained hard, his body quickly became strong, his martial skills excellent, so much so that even his brother, the 'Knight of Flowers' Loras Tyrell, whose reputation was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms, had to admire him.

His swordsmanship was even better than Loras Tyrell's.

Garlan also possessed considerable knowledge and refinement, especially in history, and was proficient in ancient languages. He was a man of few words, skilled in both martial and literary arts, and rarely participated in any jousting tournaments. But his strength was still above Loras Tyrell's.

And without a doubt, his power was formidable. He was a head taller than Loras Tyrell.

"Brother, this is my matter."

"You are my brother," Garlan said, "Let me face the Mountain!"

Both brothers were vying to die by the Mountain's sword, a hobby that was not worth encouraging.

In the crowd of noblewomen, an old woman surrounded by knights, jesters, clowns, and maids stood up, she was elegant and imposing, like a queen.

At least four knights followed her, the two knights guarding the noblewoman closely were identical twins, they were the old woman's left and right hands, as she usually called the two guards.

The old woman was the true power in the Reach, Lord Mace Tyrell's mother: Lady Olenna Redwyne, known as the Queen of Thorns, to praise her as a rose with poisonous thorns.

The Queen of Thorns came to the seventh step, greeted His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen Mother, and presented gifts, imperceptibly dissolving the tense atmosphere. Then she greeted the Hand of the King and presented gifts. The gifts she brought from Highgarden were rich and precious, irresistible, attracting the attention of everyone present.

Finally, the Queen of Thorns was invited to take a seat as the most honored guest at the Small Council table. She was there to get close to Lord Tywin.

The Queen of Thorns stared at Lord Tywin and said in a low voice: "This is not how the game is played, Lord Hand."

"Madam, you have not managed Ser Loras Tyrell well," Lord Tywin said blandly, "He needs to learn a lesson to grow."

Their conversation ended there!

A battle between masters, touching on the key points!

Clang!

Garlan Tyrell drew his longsword.

Brienne stepped aside.

Loras Tyrell also had his longsword in hand, facing the Mountain.

The Mountain was empty-handed.

He wasn't even wearing iron gauntlets.

King Joffrey shouted: "Ser Loras, are you going to fight two against one?"

The generals roared with laughter.

The generals of the Crownlands naturally sided with the Mountain because they had fought an absolute victory with him. The Tyrell family arrived after the battle, but their contribution outweighed theirs, which was unsatisfactory. When King Joffrey said 'two against one', the generals collectively clamored and mocked. Their level of insinuation, sarcasm, and vicious digs was clearly above that of street thugs.

"Second brother, this is my matter!" Loras Tyrell insisted.

"I'll do it, you step back," Garlan said without allowing any argument.

King Joffrey's playfulness rose. He was the king, and no rules could not be changed: "Mountain, I want you to fight two against one."

"If it pleases you, I accept, Your Majesty," the Mountain said proudly.

As soon as he said this, the courtiers and generals stirred!

Trial by combat, one against two? The Mountain was going to fight two against one? This was unheard of!

And the Mountain actually agreed, this was too arrogant!

But that was the Mountain!

The courtiers and generals were all filled with tension, anticipation, and malicious joy. They hoped that the Mountain could slice open the Tyrell brothers and watch a feast of blood, and also looked forward to the two brothers killing the Mountain and admiring the evildoer's deserved end. They even hoped that the three would suffer mutual injuries and die together, which would be a great fortune, beer and roast chicken.

"The duel between the Mountain and the Tyrell brothers, I approve!" Joffrey announced majestically.

Tyrion, the Imp's eyes widened as he looked at his willful nephew.

This was not a duel upholding the ancient ways, this was a private brawl!—started by a willful king, a human-skinned beast proudly entering the arena, triggering a willful and畸形duel.

"I disagree!" Loras and Garlan said in unison.

The Mountain raised his hand, and Dunsen brought over the giant Ice sword. If the giant sword stood upright, it would be taller than Dunsen.

The royal courtiers all changed color.

When the giant sword was on the Mountain's back, everyone felt it was suitable, and did not feel the sword's hugeness and heaviness, but when it was in Dunsen's hands, it became a shockingly huge weapon.

Mace Tyrell's face was ashen, he opened his mouth, but could not speak. The vassal next to him—Randyll Tarly, a famous general of the Seven Kingdoms—busily gently patted his back and offered soft words of comfort.

The ever-composed Queen of Thorns craned her neck and shifted her sitting position. Her hands gripped the armrests tightly, her skin turning white and her veins bulging from the force.

The bald artist Polliver brought the iron gauntlets for the Mountain.

His adopted daughter, Jeyne, brought the armor for the Mountain.—Only armor to protect the Mountain's vitals and joints, not full plate armor.

Plate armor was heavy, suitable for battlefield charges, not for one-on-one combat.—The Mountain needed to maintain his speed and agility, so he needed to sacrifice defense.

But the Mountain's generals all knew that the Mountain always wore a soft armor—a chainmail shirt—under his outer clothes, and under the chainmail shirt, there was a layer of protective leather. This was like a habit of ordinary people wearing underwear.

Ordinary soldiers only had leather; knights either had chainmail or armor, not both, because it was too heavy, making it difficult to move, let alone swing a sword nimbly and dodge flexibly.

Brienne stepped forward to strap on the armor for the Mountain, her eyes focused and her movements swift.

"Lord Hand, when did Brienne become the Mountain's follower?" The Queen of Thorns moved closer to Tywin, as if the two were family.

"From the moment the Mountain guaranteed Brienne's innocence and loyalty in the name of the gods and family honor."

"You don't think that child killed Renly?"

"No!"

The Queen of Thorns closed her mouth.

The Mountain was fully armed, his hand gripping the hilt, the scabbard of Ice held in Dunsen's arms.

Clang!

Ice was drawn, two silver rays of light like small snakes swam from the edges of the two blades, intersecting at the tip of the sword.

"Good sword!" The Queen of Thorns' eyes lit up.

She had strict noble etiquette, and her voice was very low on this occasion, even her shouting was almost inaudible.

"The Stark family's ancestral sword: Ice! In the Mountain's hands, it cuts steel like cheese."

The Queen of Thorns' neck stiffened!

The Tyrell family's face was about to be swept away today, was this a warning from Lord Tywin?!

Loras Tyrell had indeed lost control because of Renly, and this child's spirit was almost broken.

Garlan looked at Loras, Loras looked at Garlan, both brothers understood that the other would definitely not back down.

The two brothers were of one mind: kill the Mountain!

Garlan held his sword with both hands, shifting to the left; Loras held his sword with one hand, shifting to the right.

Tyrion, the Imp, was dumbfounded: these two brothers were really teaming up?! This was knightly honor!

Shagga pushed away the noble general in front of him, and Bronn bumped a knight with his shoulder, glaring at him until the other retreated. Shagga and Bronn came to the front row domineeringly: "Lord Duke, chop them up!"

Tyrek, Chilla, and Gunthor also came up together, Chilla said: "Lord, cut off their ears."

"Cut off their hands, Lord, cut off their hands first!" Tyrek shouted.

The ser knights all frowned. The noblewomen and ladies-in-waiting's eyes were full of disdain.

"If you can shut up, I will express my gratitude with gold dragons and fine wine," Tyrion said.

With one sentence, Tyrek, Chilla, Shagga, and Bronn all shut up.

The Imp could always deliver a fatal blow!

The Mountain took a step back, his stride was extraordinarily large, and he was suddenly in front of the Kingsguard, and it was impossible to retreat any further.

Garlan and Loras thought the Mountain was going to run and immediately attacked.

The Mountain also moved, his retreat was just for an advance.

His stride was extraordinarily large, his arms were very long, and the length of the giant sword was even more exaggerated.

The Mountain attacked Garlan, Garlan had only taken one step, and the Mountain was already in front of him, the giant sword in his hand already sweeping over.

No matter how Garlan responded, he could not escape the range of the Mountain's Ice sword.

The Mountain clenched his left hand into an iron fist, waiting for Garlan to crash into it.

Garlan was shocked, it was the first time he had fought a giant, the Mountain's retreat and advance completely disrupted his sense of distance—the sense of distance for attacking and retreating developed by the opponents he usually practiced swordsmanship with was completely different from the Mountain's advance and retreat.

Garlan had no choice but to hold his sword with both hands and desperately block!

His divine power was amazing, and he had no opponent in the Reach.

Clang!

A deafening loud noise, sparks flew, Garlan flew out like a scarecrow, passing over the Imp's head, scaring the Imp to lose color.

Whoosh!

A broken sword flew out and pierced into the huge wooden pillar of the hall with a thud.

Garlan's sword was broken, he was sent flying, and smashed into the crowd of generals, knocking down a large group of people.

The general's queue was in chaos.

The Mountain turned his wrist and swept the giant sword horizontally to the left, the covered range was too wide, forcing Loras, who took the opportunity to sneak attack, to duck and dodge.

The Mountain turned to face Loras, stepped forward, lowered the tip of his sword, and swept towards Loras.

Loras could not get close, as long as he touched the blade, he would be injured or die.

Loras's martial arts, swordsmanship, were forced to retreat again and again.

The Mountain could cut him into two pieces at a distance equal to the sum of his two swords, but at the same distance, Loras could only cut through the air.

The Mountain lowered the tip of his sword, and it was absolutely impossible for Loras to roll over on the ground.

This was a tactic that the Mountain had carefully considered.

If Loras pounced over in the air, it would undoubtedly be suicide.

A person in the air can no longer deform and borrow strength.

He only needed to turn his wrist, and the Ice sword would lift up, easily cutting open Loras's armor and body.

No matter how fast the speed, it could not compare to the Mountain's wrist flexibility.

The Mountain's giant sword was like a big broom, and Loras was like a little mouse that was constantly running away in a sorry state.

He couldn't even get close.

Many generals could see that the Mountain only needed one surprise attack to split Loras Tyrell into two pieces.

Joffrey watched with relish, his handsome face flushed, he would soon see the Mountain's giant sword slice people... with one sword, blood splattering, the upper body flying up, the lower body's two legs still retreating, intestines and the like scattering down... haha...

Garlan got up, his arms were sore and numb, his chest was faintly aching, the Mountain's strength was so strong, like a hill colliding, unstoppable.

"Catch!"

A two-handed greatsword was thrown over, Garlan reached out and caught it, the ancestral sword of the Randyll Tarly family: Heartsbane!

Valyrian steel sword Heartsbane, a two-handed greatsword, one of the famous swords of the Seven Kingdoms.

Clang!

The greatsword was unsheathed, the cold light shone like starlight, the cold air was pressing.

Garlan's eyebrows were clearly reflected on the sword.

With Heartsbane in hand, he was not afraid of Ice!

Garlan's courage greatly increased, and he rushed out swiftly!

The Mountain suddenly intensified his attack, his speed increasing sharply. The ice sword slashed horizontally and vertically, fiercely attacking Loras. Loras dodged the first strike, and the second, but there was no way to avoid the third. Gripping his sword with both hands, he desperately blocked.

Clang!

A loud crash resounded as his sword was shattered and he was sent flying towards the gate.

Garlan roared and rushed towards the Mountain. He considered his swordsmanship invincible, only inferior to the Mountain's ice sword and strength. Now was the time to display Garlan's invincible swordsmanship.

The Mountain stood as still as a mountain, his greatsword pointing to the ground, his expression indifferent, unmoving!

*

Loras Tyrell lay on the ground, his chest throbbing with pain, as if all his bones were broken. His arm was in excruciating pain; his right arm and wrist were fractured, and his right shoulder was severely strained, causing unbearable pain. At the same time, his whole body was still reeling from the force of the impact, making it difficult to breathe, and his legs were numb and weak, preventing him from standing.

Several figures appeared at the doorway, surrounding a young woman. The young woman walked gracefully, elegant and noble, her face exquisite, her beautiful features flawless. Several maids and guards followed her, clearly indicating her distinguished and noble background.

The Knight of Flowers struggled to get up, as he was blocking the way on the red carpet from the gate to the Iron Throne, which was unseemly.

As he exerted himself, his chest and fractured arm throbbed with pain, and a sweet taste rose in his throat as a rush of hot blood welled up.

The woman hurried forward: "Knight, please don't rush to get up. You need to lie down and rest for a moment. Forcing yourself up will only further injure your body."

"Thank you, Madam. May I ask who you are...?"

"I am Gregor Clegane's wife, Jeyne Westerling."

Thanks to 【带着你的爱滚】【咸鱼肥宅王】【醉梦之Kitty殇】【Chau534】 for the support! Thank you, handshake!