Trial by Combat

In the stands, Count Rickard and Greatjon had just stood up upon hearing their names, only to sit back down when Roose demanded a trial by combat.

Upon hearing Roose's words, the North's nobles erupted in discussion, with some already questioning the fairness of this trial.

Trial by combat was a method in Westeros for settling disputes and resolving controversies. It could be requested at any time before or during a trial.

The victor of the trial would be the one who survived a recognized, fair death match.

Of course, a trial by combat could be refused, but in Westeros, where the Faith of the Seven was revered and heroism was admired, few people, even noble lords and royal family members, would stop a trial by combat.

Robb looked at Roose, who was of average build, not particularly strong, and pale and gaunt. He nodded and said, "I accept your request for a trial by combat. Lord Roose, please find a proxy warrior on the scene willing to fight for you, otherwise, you will have to fight yourself."

"Lord Robb, please grant me this opportunity, let me fight for you!"

Hearing Robb's words, Roose was still contemplating when Daisy, standing to the side, immediately shouted her request to Robb.

"Lord Robb, I am willing to chop off his head for you, please choose me!"

Little Jon, clad in full plate armor, was a beat slower. After Daisy spoke, he gruffly shouted in a deep voice.

Immediately after, Owen and Eddard also reacted, vying to fight for Robb.

Robb shook his head, gesturing for them to quiet down, then slowly said, "Thank you for being willing to risk your lives to fight for me. However, my father always taught me, 'He who passes the sentence of death must swing the sword.'"

Hearing him invoke Lord Eddard's teachings, Daisy and the others, knowing further persuasion was useless, silently retreated to their original positions.

Seeing that Robb intended to fight himself, a smile crept onto Roose's lips as he raised the shackles in his hand.

Eddard glanced at Robb. Seeing him nod in affirmation, he took out the key from his person and unlocked Robb's shackles.

Robb pulled Theon's longsword from his waist and threw it before Roose.

Then, he directly tore off his black cloak, drew his own longsword from his waist, and said to Roose, "It seems no one here will fight for you, so come on! Lord Roose. Outside Dreadfort, I sent a messenger to tell you, 'I will end your life with my own hands.' Now is the time!"

Roose picked up the longsword from the ground and stood up, stretching his hands and feet, which had been shackled for a long time.

Eddard and Toren, the two brothers, silently made space, forming a circle with Daisy and the others on the periphery.

A trial by combat could actually allow for a change of armor before the duel.

However, Robb and Roose, the two enemies about to engage in a death match, understood each other's intentions, and both tacitly agreed to a fight without armor.

"Begin the fight!"

Seeing that both Robb and Roose were ready, Theon shouted loudly.

As soon as his voice fell, Roose, raising his sword with his right hand, advanced towards Robb.

As soon as he entered striking range, he held his sword with both hands, raised it high, and then swung it down fiercely towards Robb.

Clang!

Robb's feet remained still. With a composed expression, he raised his right hand, sword held above his head, and easily blocked Roose's downward slash.

Roose's veins bulged on his arms as he exerted all his strength, trying to press the sword down.

Robb, with only one hand, nullified the force of his sword.

At the same time, in a voice only they could hear, he whispered to Roose, "Since you're going to die anyway, it's better to die in a trial by combat than to die bearing guilt. This way, it can also sow doubt in the minds of the North's nobles about me forcing your conviction, planting a thorn in their hearts. Of course, if you could kill me through trial by combat, that would be even better! Right?"

Hearing this, Roose bared his teeth in an ugly smile and replied in a low voice, "Right, aren't you the same? Since trial by combat cannot be refused, why not directly convict me this way and silence the North's nobles? I wasn't strong to begin with, and after being imprisoned for so long, my body is already depleted. Facing you, the valiant Young Wolf Lord, is certain death. Huff, huff!"

Roose, exerting all his strength, spoke at the same time, making him a little breathless. He paused briefly, then continued, "During this time, I've carefully recalled this war. Although I initially wanted to sow chaos in the North and undermine your authority as you first took charge of Winterfell, damaging House Stark's reputation. At the time, I never considered waging war against House Stark. But the series of traps you designed clearly aimed to initiate war and weaken House Bolton's strength. Moreover, during our first meeting at Dreadfort, I could see from your eyes that your hatred for me was profound, and you wanted to kill me from the bottom of your heart. Before I die, I want to know, why is that?"

"Heh heh, Lord Roose, you are indeed a clever man, seeing through me so clearly! As for why I want to kill you..."

Because in my past life, I died by your hand!

Robb chuckled softly. Fearing the scrutiny of the Three-Eyed Crow hidden somewhere, he did not reveal his true reason to Roose.

"You're unwilling to reveal it to someone who is about to die? Robb Stark, you are a truly terrifying man!"

Looking at Robb, who had fallen silent after speaking, Roose couldn't help but exclaim.

"Then, farewell, Lord Roose!"

In the time it took the two to speak, the strength from Roose's longsword grew weaker and weaker.

Seeing that he had finished saying what he wanted to say, Robb spoke his final farewell to Roose.

Without waiting for Roose to react, Robb put strength into his sword-wielding right hand and thrust his longsword upward, knocking away the sword Roose had pressed down on his head.

At the same time, he quickly retracted his sword-wielding right hand and swung it out forcefully.

Clang!

Roose gripped with all his might, but he couldn't stop his longsword from being knocked from his grasp and flying out of his hands.

Although Roose knew his martial prowess wasn't particularly strong, he never expected to be completely unable to fight back against Robb.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The look of shock finally froze on Roose's face. Robb's second sword directly beheaded him. His head rolled onto the platform floor, making a few soft sounds.

As for his headless corpse, blood was spurting out of the carotid artery with a 'hissing' sound, splashing all over Robb's face and hair.

Count Wyman, who was a spectator to this martial trial, now had only one feeling: this martial trial was too hasty.

If Roose Bolton's head hadn't fallen onto the platform, he would have thought it was a staged play.

From his perspective, he only saw Roose swing his sword, then the two of them stalemate for a moment, Robb easily disarmed Roose with one hand, and then cut off Roose's head with one sword stroke.

"Lord Robb is too strong!"

Count Rickard beside him was not an amateur swordsman like Wyman.

He clearly understood the gap between Robb and the other fighter. Therefore, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of admiration.

Hearing his old friend's admiration and thinking back to the changes at Winterfell, the military parade of the Winterfell soldiers, Count Wyman made a decision in his heart.

That batch of Myrish ointment, he would just give... he would just charge the cost price!