As Corleone continued to approach the door of House of Order, the quarrel outside the door turned into metal collision.
Obviously, the conflict escalated.
He frowned and quickly stepped out of the threshold. The first thing that caught his eye was Yego lying on the marble floor.
This powerful Dothraki Warrior, who was used to being injured, had a face full of pain and disbelief, seemingly unable to accept his failure.
Corleone looked intently and saw a clear punch mark on his chest was dented, and the leather armor was covered with cracks. It was obvious how powerful the punch was.
He tried to hold himself up, but with every breath, his face became paler, and blood with bubbles overflowed from the corners of his mouth.
Broken ribs, possibly punctured lung.
Corleone makes medical judgment instantly.
"Don't move, my blood, moving will only make the injury worse."
He spoke in a low voice, and then ordered a servant beside him, "Go find a stretcher and carry him to a side room. I will be here to treat him in a moment."
Flea Bottom has no doubt about the authority of Corleone Medicine.
Soon, several people carried Yego away.
At this time, Corleone raised his head and looked at the culprit who caused all this.
A man as tall and strong as a hill!
He was not wearing a helmet, his forehead was low and narrow, his eyebrows were as protruding as a cliff, his eyes were sunk in shadow, and his lips were thick and turned out.
This man was wearing a full set of plate armor, and the three black dog emblems on the breastplate glowed greasyly under the torch.
The extremely exaggerated body shape and jet black armor made Corleone recognize the other party's identity at a glance.
The Mountain - Gregor Clegane!
Why did this guy come?
He frowned because Corleone didn't remember that he invited Magic Mountain. After all, they had never met each other.
Turning around again, I saw ten steps away, a man with sinister eyes like poisonous snakes, holding two Scimitars and staring at the magic mountain.
Oberyn·Martell...
Corleone felt a shiver in his heart. Although he didn't know why the magic mountain appeared here, if these two people met.
Then it's not surprising that conflicts arise.
The Prince of Dorne was seen wearing tight-fitting scarlet and gold leather armor, covered with a silk cloak as light as cicada wings.
There were two slender Dornish swords in his hand, Scimitar. The blades glowed blue under the firelight, and were obviously poisoned.
His stance seemed loose, but every inch of his muscles was taut, like a fully drawn bowstring.
"Say it again, Dornishman!"
Looking at this difficult guy, Mo Shan roared angrily, his voice seeming to come from deep in his chest. "I have never seen your sister!"
"Don't even think about denying it, bastard!" the Red Viper hissed, "I Lia·Martell, the princess of Dorne."
"On the night King's Landing was breached, you raped her, you killed her, and you killed her child!"
Hearing this, Mo Shan tilted his head, his movements as slow as a real beast thinking.
"Many women."
"What?" Oberyn was stunned.
"There were many women that night." Mo Shan's voice was still very calm, as if he was talking about having dinner. "I can't remember which one is your sister."
These words instantly took away all Oberyn's sanity.
"I'm going to kill you!!!"
He let out a shrill roar, his two swords crossed in the air and drew cold light. The speed was ridiculously fast, and his whole body turned into a red figure and rushed towards the magic mountain!
The two knives slashed at Mo Shan's throat and eyes respectively, attacking the most vulnerable places like poisonous snakes.
The Magic Mountain did not hide.
He just raised the extremely large sword in his hand with one hand, blocked one of them, and then raised the steel wrist guard to block the other one.
"Dang" and "Dang" sounded twice, and sparks flew everywhere.
Immediately afterwards, Demon Mountain rounded the sword in his hand and swung it like a battering ram.
Phew~~~~
Oberyn twisted around at the last moment, the huge sword blade brushed against his ribs, and the sword wind lifted his cloak.
But the Mountain's attack was not over yet. He raised his leg and kicked Oberyn's abdomen with his boot.
The force of this kick is very strong. If it hits, it will definitely end up like Yego.
Fortunately, Oberyn was very flexible and rolled directly to avoid it, and was already five steps away when he landed.
His breathing was slightly erratic, but his eyes were even crazier.
"Tell me who gave the order."
He roared loudly, which was bound to attract everyone's attention. "Who asked you to kill Yi Lia and her children? Tell them in front of the Seven Gods!"
Magic Mountain lowered his head and looked at his wrist guard with slash marks, and then stared at Oberyn fiercely. "The child is crying very noisily."
"So I smashed him against the wall and it was quiet."
As soon as these words came out, the air completely froze.
Oberyn's lips trembled, and the knuckles on his knife turned white.
At that moment, not only hatred flashed in his eyes, but also the images that tortured him every night for more than ten years.
My sister's cold corpse, my nephew's broken skull, and the blood that can never be washed away.
"Death!!!"
Just when Oberyn was about to bully him again and kill the Mountain, a familiar figure stood in front of him, blocking his way.
Very familiar.
"Gregor Ser." Corleone first looked at the Magic Mountain, and his voice was steady, with a hint of warning. "Today is my celebration banquet, please don't make trouble here."
However, Mo Shan just looked down at him, as if looking at an insect crawling to his feet, and scolded him unceremoniously, "Get away."
At this time, Oberyn's voice also sounded, "This is none of your business, Corleone, get out of the way."
Sandwiched between two people with extremely high martial arts, an ordinary person would be almost scared to death, but Corleone did not move.
He tilted his head slightly, saw Rorge hiding behind the pillar, and said in a deep voice, "Come out."
"Tell me what happened."
After receiving the order, Rorge walked out from behind the pillar tremblingly, swallowed, and said with a trembling voice, "Greg... Gregor Ser returned to King's Landing from Harrenhal. He learned that the Prime Minister was here, so he came."
"But I happened to bump into Prince Oberyn Martell at the door. Who would have known that the two of them... started having sex as soon as they disagreed."
"Yego went up to stop him, but he didn't expect that guy to punch him...
", After listening to his story, Corleone nodded slightly, indicating that he understood.
He turned towards the Magic Mountain and [Dignity Iv3] moved forward instantly, his voice filled with an unquestionable sense of command, "Gregor Ser, tonight is my investiture banquet."
"No matter what grudges you have with Prince Oberyn, please resolve them elsewhere. This is my place and you must abide by my rules."
Hearing this, Mo Shan seemed to feel the aura from Corleone. He frowned and looked at him for two seconds, and then said arrogantly, "Who are you? I don't know you."
"But I have always only followed Lord Tywin's rules. Everyone else is bullshit!"
This was said very calmly, not even meant to be insulting.
In Magic Mountain's perception, Corleone is indeed not something that needs to be remembered.
Corleone looked at him deeply and nodded.
Then he turned to Oberyn: "You owe me a favor, Your Highness, remember?"
"Now, please stop, tonight is not the time."
Hearing him say this, Oberyn's eyes flickered for a moment, but then he shook his head.
His hatred is so deep that it can burn away all reason and commitment.
"I will return the favor later."
Oberyn's voice was hoarse. "But tonight, I must hear him confess his crime in person, and I must reveal the person behind him!"
"What if you heard it?"
Corleone asked, "Kill him here?"
"Lord Tywin would not allow his most loyal knights to be killed in front of him. War would begin in Dorne and the Westerlands, thousands would die, and the truth... would never be revealed."
He is making sense.
But tonight, no one here seems to want to listen to reason.
"Dornish, the smell of your sister...
"Enough!"
Hearing that Mo Shan wanted to insult him, Corleone suddenly raised his voice.
That voice carried unquestionable authority, and even Mo Shan paused and looked down at him.
Under people's gaze, Corleone took a deep breath, stared at the Magic Mountain with his dark eyes, and said word by word, "You disappoint me, Gregor Clegane Ser."
"Tonight is my celebration banquet. You are not on my banquet list. You came and beat my people."
"I didn't blame you for this. Instead, I said so many beautiful words to you, hoping to save your face."
"Now, I order you to get out of here, now!"
Just as the conflict in the foyer reached its climax, in the shadows inside the hall, Petyr Baelish had quietly retreated to the side door.
Now, while everyone's attention is attracted by the conflict at the door, it's a good time to slip away.
However, as soon as his hand touched the door, a familiar voice came from behind. "Are you leaving in such a hurry, Lord Petyr? The party is not over yet."
Petyr's body stiffened for a moment.
Looking back, I saw the short Tyrion standing three steps away, holding a glass of wine in his hand. Next to him stood his wife Sansa and Stark. The girl's face was pale and she was clutching the hem of her skirt tightly.
Next to Sansa, a slender black-haired maid held her hand and was inseparable.
He turned around slowly, with that gentle and harmless smile already on his face, "Oh, Lord Tyrion!"
"I just... need to get some air. There are too many people in the hall. You know, I haven't been feeling well lately."
"Not feeling well?"
Tyrion sneered, "That's true, facing an empty treasury and endless debts on the books all day long is indeed difficult to maintain a good body."
"But you're lucky, this mess is mine now."
Hearing the sarcasm in his words, Petyr couldn't help but curse inwardly.
Damn... why is everyone having a hard time with me today!
However, he quickly explained, "Lord Tyrion was joking."
"I was just following Lord Tywin's orders to go to the Eyrie to marry Lady Lysa Tully and stabilize the Vale for the Seven Kingdoms"
"That's really great." Tyrion shook the wine glass. "You only need to exert a few force on the woman to get the title of Duke of the Eyrie. This is a good deal."
"It's a pity that the last time I saw that crazy woman, I was almost thrown off a cliff. Otherwise, my talent would be enough to give it a try."
"Haha...
He laughed and teased, but he didn't realize that Petyr's eyes had fallen on his wife at this time.
Sensing Petyr's gaze, Sansa subconsciously took a half step back and clenched her fingers tighter.
Petyr was once her "friend" and one of the few people she could talk to in King's Landing, but now she knows that she is Tyrion's wife.
Although this Tyrion is very kind to her and has not touched her until now, Sansa does not dare to bet on what kind of punishment she will receive if she offends her.
Petyr didn't seem to notice her worries and gave Sansa an elegant smile, which always made Maiden blush.
"Lady Sansa, you look much better."
"Maybe you should go out for a walk more often. Although the air in the Red Fort is fresh, a lot of new things have happened outside recently."
Seeing him like this, Sansa's lips moved, but no sound came out.
She took another half step back, almost leaning against the wall.
This silence... hurts more than any words.
It seems to be saying, don't come to me again, I'm afraid Tyrion will misunderstand.
Petyr's smile finally disappeared completely. He looked at Sansa, then at Tyrion, and finally at Corleone, who was dealing with a conflict in the distance.
Then he turned around without saying anything, pushed open the side door, and disappeared into the dark corridor.
Tyrion stared at the open door and was silent for a long time.
"He escaped," he finally said.
"Will he come back?" Sansa whispered.
"Of course."
"A man like Petyr never really leaves the table. He only leaves temporarily, shuffles the cards, and comes back with new chips."
With that said, Tyrion drank the wine in the glass and turned to look at the door. "Let's go and see the excitement, madam."
Faced with Corleone's warning, Magic Mountain did not move.
He didn't even bother to respond, he just looked at Oberyn again and raised the giant sword in his hand, as if Corleone didn't exist at all.
Oberyn also raised his sword again.
The persuasion failed.
A complete failure.
Corleone stood between the two of them, and could feel the eyes from the hall behind him.
There was scrutiny, ridicule, gloating, and disappointment in those eyes.
Tonight is the celebration banquet for him to become a knight, and almost all the important nobles of King's Landing are present.
If he couldn't even handle the conflict in front of his own door, if he allowed the Mountain and Oberyn to fight with blood splattering here for five steps.
Then tomorrow, it will be spread throughout King's Landing that Ser Corleone is a joke.
His "order" only applies to the poor people of Flea Bottom, and is worthless in the face of real power and violence.
His prestige, everything he has built since entering King's Landing, will collapse on this night.
Corleone was silent for three seconds.
Then, under everyone's gaze, he did something that no one could have guessed.
I saw his right hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist.
Clang-
The sound of metal friction was particularly crisp and cold, and seemed very harsh.
He drew his sword.
The sword body is made of ordinary steel, without the special texture of Valyria steel, and without gem inlays.
It's just a sword, an ordinary killing tool.
But when he held the sword in his hand, his whole demeanor changed.
Corleone, who was as calm as water just now, suddenly became sharp and sharp at this moment, as if even his eyes could make sword marks on people's bodies.
"Back off, Your Highness."
Corleone looked at Oberyn and said coldly, "Or, the agreement between us is void, you can choose."
Oberyn stared at him for five seconds, struggle flashing in his eyes.
Finally, he gritted his teeth and backed away slowly.
Then, Corleone turned around and faced the magic mountain.
Mo Shan looked down at him, looking at this man who was no taller than his own chest, then pointed at the ridiculous sword in his hand, and said contemptuously, "Are you going to use this to put on a show for me?"
"No."
Corleone raised his sword, pointing at the magic mountain.
The night wind blew by, blowing up the gray cloak behind his back, and the black palm crest fluttered in the light of the lights.
"I'm going to use this... to make you kneel down and admit your mistake!"