Martial Arts Trial (1)

Ever since the Lord of Darry ordered his soldiers to learn from the combat experiences against the Ironborn, the encampment at Darry has been a different place.

Suleiman's two guards, Lushen and Roslyn, have spent every day sitting by the campfire, sharing their observations of the Ironborn with the soldiers gathered around them.

Before being conscripted, these men were farmers, craftsmen, and townsfolk who had never witnessed a battlefield with their own eyes.

Prior to this, they had been filled with curiosity, even longing, for war and the battlefield.

But now, listening to the accounts of Lushen and Roslyn, they suddenly felt that the battlefield was perhaps not the glorious place they had imagined, but one filled with coldness and death.

Lushen and Roslyn shared the same humble origins as them, using the simplest language that every one of them could understand to describe the brutality and fearlessness of the Ironborn.

Lushen paused, lowering his voice:

"Those Ironborn, they're terrifying! They're nothing but a bunch of madmen!"

"They don't fear death; to them, dying is just like going home!"

"I hear they believe that only by drowning in the sea or dying in battle can they enter the palace of that Drowned God—a fine place beneath the waves!"

"They believe that once they go there, there's endless wine and meat every day, and whatever they want, those half-human, half-fish creatures will bring it to them!"

Roslyn nodded: "That's right!"

"And these people never carry money when they go out. If they see something they want, they just kill the owner and take it. They call that paying the 'Iron Price'!"

"They don't need anyone to urge them into battle, either. No orders, no encouragement needed. They treat killing and burning as their way of life, saying that's the only way an Ironborn should live!"

The storytelling of Lushen and Roslyn sent shivers down the soldiers' spines. They gulped repeatedly, as if those terrifying Ironborn might jump out from the shadows at any moment.

However, just as Lushen was embellishing a tale about how a single Ironborn had cut down three Riverlands soldiers with one axe, a sharp, clearly hostile voice pierced the quiet of the scene.

"You bunch of idiots!"

The soldiers looked toward the source of the sound and saw a fat man in knightly armor standing not far away, his face twisted with undisguised disgust.

It was Ser Joseth of Darry.

He was already fuming because the lord was delaying the advance, and seeing these two praising the strength of the Ironborn—while remembering that the lord had made that Foulkeep upstart a guest of honor—only added to his rage.

Joseth stepped forward, his gaze cold as he looked at Lushen and Roslyn, his tone dripping with contempt:

"I hear your master told the Lord that our Darry soldiers are no match for those pirates?"

Lushen and Roslyn were honest, salt-of-the-earth farmers. Since arriving here, they had been cautious and careful, fearing they might cause trouble for Master Suleiman.

Faced with the status and authority of a knight like Joseth, they instinctively wanted to retreat.

"A little brat who survived a battlefield by sheer luck dares to pass judgment on true warriors? Who does he think he is?"

Seeing the two men shrinking back, Joseth laughed loudly, his laughter filled with disdain: "The truth is, a dog takes after its master. Your little lordling's family, ennobled for cleaning the lord's stables, knows nothing of honor! Nothing of chivalry! Nothing of courage!"

When Lushen and Roslyn heard this, the blood drained from their faces. They could allow others to insult them, but they could never accept anyone insulting Master Suleiman.

Roslyn and Lushen roared: "How dare you insult our master!"

"Ha!" Joseth acted as if he had seen something utterly shocking.

His voice turned into a sharper, mocking screech: "You actually dare to talk back to a knight?"

"Marwyn, Tobias!" Joseth shouted at his two squires.

"Go! Teach our two battlefield heroes a lesson!"

"Let them know their place!"

"Show them what real combat looks like!"

Both squires were fully armored and well-protected.

They stepped forward with cruel grins.

Lushen and Roslyn were terrified, but the loyalty to Master Suleiman in their bones meant they did not choose to retreat this time.

They did not back down, instead swinging their arms and fists in a desperate counterattack.

However, every time their fists landed on the squires' armor, it felt like striking solid stone!

Their attacks were completely blocked by the thick plate, unable to penetrate the protection, let alone harm the men inside.

On the contrary, the massive recoil left the knuckles of Lushen and Roslyn bloodied and raw from repeatedly striking the armor.

As time passed, their strength waned, and they gradually ceased their counterattacks.

Realizing that continuing to fight was futile, they were forced to abandon their offense.

They tried to shield their heads and bodies with their arms, blocking the rain of blows falling upon them.

Even though the two had stopped struggling and were now merely taking the beating, Joseth's squires showed no mercy.

The two squires wore cruel sneers; it was clear they weren't just trying to subdue them!

Every strike was vicious and relentless.

Intent on maiming them, they kicked and punched at the heads of Lushen and Roslyn, showing no sign of stopping!

The commotion and screams alarmed the soldiers throughout the camp. They were startled by the sudden violence and rushed over to watch, but no one dared to step in and intervene.

Joseth was, after all, the lord's knight.

However, some soldiers who held a favorable view of Suleiman and his two guards quickly made their way to Suleiman to report the news.

Suleiman had been practicing his swordsmanship in a secluded part of the camp; upon hearing the news, his expression turned cold, and he hurried over.

When Joseth's two squires saw the man himself arrive, they sneered and pulled back the fists they had been preparing to bring down again.

"Stop!" Ser Ronald barked, his face looking rather grim; he was clearly very displeased with Joseth's behavior.

Seeing that Ser Ronald had arrived due to the commotion, Joseth's squires immediately stepped back and stood behind Joseth.

Ser Ronald turned to face Suleiman, his tone filled with apology and helplessness:

"Lord Suleiman, I am truly sorry. Joseth's actions were far too reckless."

"Darry offers you its apologies, and we will provide you with compensation."

However, Suleiman did not even look at Ser Ronald; his gaze remained calm as he looked toward Joseth.

He then walked quickly to Lushen and Roslyn, kneeling to check their injuries. Fortunately, the two were thick-skinned and had suffered no major harm.

This was the first time since arriving in this world that he had felt such intense anger.

Seeing Suleiman arrive, the two, despite being in agonizing pain and lacking the strength to move, could only weakly move their lips and whisper: "We did not bring shame upon you, Master Suleiman."

Suleiman did not reply. He patted their arms gently, stood up, swept his gaze over the soldiers who were gradually gathering around, and faced Joseth directly, taking a deep breath before raising his voice:

"I am Suleiman of Foulkeep, a hereditary knight ennobled by the Seven Kingdoms!"

"And you are nothing more than a knight without a hereditary title!"

"You have assaulted my guards without cause and insulted my house!"

"Such conduct is a trampling of noble honor! It is a contempt for the laws of the Seven Kingdoms!"

The expression on Ser Joseth's face turned somewhat ugly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.

"In light of this, this matter has become a dispute that cannot be resolved peacefully between nobles!"

"According to the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, nobles may resolve disputes through a trial by combat!"

"Since you sent your squires in armor to attack my guards, let us make things truly fair!"

He pointed at Joseth and then at his squires: "You and your two rabid dogs in their turtle shells! Strip off those turtle shells!"

He then pointed to himself, Lushen, and Roslyn: "I! My guards, Lushen and Roslyn! Tomorrow at this hour, right here in this open space!"

He spoke every word clearly, his voice filled with a murderous aura: "Six people, a three-on-three trial by combat!"

Suleiman's gaze was calm and icy as he said in the most level voice: "I am sentencing you to death!"

"The Seven witness it!"

The surrounding soldiers were deathly silent, stunned into speechlessness by this sudden trial by combat.

Ser Ronald's eyes were filled with shock.

The matter had actually escalated to this point, and it had been initiated by the young Ser Suleiman in such a forceful and resolute manner. Three-on-three—he was too young, why be so foolish!

Even without armor, Joseth's own martial prowess was enough to look down upon many knights, and his squires were also strictly trained warriors.

He was even among the top thousand at kingdom-level tourneys, which was why he did not fear offending Lord Raymun Darry.

He could easily be recruited by other houses.

And Suleiman, a sixteen-year-old young knight, along with his two peasant guards.

Ser Ronald could not imagine a single shred of hope for this young man to win!

Joseth burst into loud laughter. He had actually been afraid just moments ago that Suleiman would use the noble hierarchy of Westeros to suppress him, but he had not expected the other party to choose the very thing he excelled at: force.

Joseth pointed at Suleiman and his guards: "Good! Very good! Ser Suleiman of Foulkeep!"

He held his head high, looked at Suleiman arrogantly, and responded loudly: "I, known as the White Pig Knight! Ser Joseth Burke of Darry! I accept your trial!"

"Tomorrow at this hour, in this place! Let everyone see how you and your peasants sentence me to death in a trial by combat!"