At the door of the Place of Order, dust slowly rose in the halo of lights, clearly outlining the figure standing with a sword.
Although not tall, he is tall and straight.
People looked at this extremely shocking scene. Everyone was dumbfounded and found it difficult to accept it for a while.
After all, the two are very different in terms of body shape and reputation, but who would have thought that the loser would be the Mountain!
At the front of the crowd, Shae's lips were slightly open.
Under the firelight, Corleone's figure seemed to be coated with a dazzling halo in her eyes.
She couldn't help but think of the night not long ago, where the man in front of her had enjoyed dinner elegantly and talked with her, with such a calm and unhurried demeanor.
But at this moment, looking at the Mountain, this monster that was rumored to be more terrifying than the devil, knelt at the feet of Corleone like a lame wild dog. For a moment, her worship, longing and ambition almost defeated her reason.
Shae seems to have seen herself wearing a gorgeous dress, as a hostess, standing proudly next to such a man.
She couldn't help but tighten her legs, and couldn't help but let out a suppressed cry, "Sir Corleone!"
The sound was not loud, and many people nearby heard it, but no one expressed doubts about it at this time.
After all, Corleone is so beautiful, and her calm demeanor has attracted the favor of many aristocratic women.
Shae reacted and hurriedly covered his lips with his hands. He looked around and found that no one cared, so he felt relieved.
But Tyrion, who was standing not far next to her, keenly captured this soft call.
He immediately frowned and glanced at Shae quickly. Seeing her moist eyes staring closely at Corleone, he felt heartache for some reason.
However, when Tyrion turned his attention to the figure standing with a sword in the field, what surged deep in his heart was not just blame.
But envy and jealousy.
If... if I were not born like this, if I had a sound body, then I would be able to hold a sharp sword like him, win glory on the battlefield, and gain my father's approval!
Instead of being considered a shame to the family by his father like now!
Corleone...
... A guy from Farmer actually achieved what he had dreamed of but could not achieve!
Shaking his head, he forced himself to move away from the light, and turned to nervously observe his wife Sansa beside him.
Then he quietly moved half a step back, seemingly casually dragging Shae behind him, trying to block her with his short body.
Of course, Tyrion's worries are completely unnecessary.
Because the girl from Winterfell completely failed to notice the subtle interaction between her husband and her maid.
At this moment, her entire mind was completely occupied by the man who had just created a miracle.
"The Mountain"Gregor·Clegane.
She remembered this name clearly, and had witnessed with her own eyes how the opponent crushed his opponent in a martial arts competition, and even cut one or four horses alive into two pieces with his terrifying power.
However, such a monster, in front of this knight named Vito·Corleone, is like a clumsy child, being played with in the palm of his hand!
If... if I can get his allegiance, if such a knight is willing to fight for Stark...
She seemed to see a glimmer of hope to regain Winterfell and avenge her father and brother.
Somehow, a firm thought arose in her heart, and the blue eyes inherited from her mother shone brightly under the street lights.
I want this man to be my sword, my shield, and take me home!
However, Sansa's gaze was completely noticed by Petyr·Baelish not far away.
He stood under the shadow of the pillars, the smile on his face had long since disappeared, replaced by extreme coldness and jealousy0
Clenching his fists, his nails dug deeply into his palms, but there was an all-too-familiar, unforgettable sense of frustration in his heart.
It's like that again... it's like that again!
Nearly twenty years have passed, and the scene of Riverrun appears before my eyes again like a nightmare.
Back then, when he was young and frivolous, he challenged her fiancé, the tall and heroic Bran den Stark, for the sake of his beloved Catelyn Tully.
What's the result?
He was easily defeated and lay on the ground like a joke, while Catelyn, the girl in his dream, looked at Bran den with eyes full of admiration and dependence.
That natural admiration for a powerful protector was like a red-hot iron, scalding his humble soul.
He hated his thin body and his almost nonexistent swordsmanship talent!
At this moment, history seems to be repeating itself.
The daughters of Sansa·Stark and Catelyn are looking at Vito·Corleone with almost identical eyes!
Why!
That Corleone doesn't look much stronger than me, so why can he possess such shocking swordsmanship?
Why can he win such eyes?
But Littlefinger is Littlefinger after all.
After experiencing a brief loss of control, he quickly forced himself to calm down.
Anger cannot solve problems.
He looked at Corleone and the Mountain kneeling on the ground, his brain running at an unprecedented speed.
The rise of Corleone is so fast and dazzling that it has seriously threatened his plan, especially when it comes to Sansa.
But it doesn't matter, I still have time, I can wait for the opportunity!
No one can argue with me, just like Bran den·Stark, Eddard·Stark...
Sansa, you must be mine!
In the field, he seemed completely unaware of the gazes and admiration of the people around him.
His attention was completely focused on the kneeling opponent in front of him.
The night wind blew by, bringing with it the coolness of late autumn, and also dissipated some of the smell of blood and dust.
With a flick of his wrist, the ordinary long sword was neatly put into the scabbard at his waist.
"Sir Gregor·Clegane."
Corleone spoke again, using a formal title, but there was no respect in his voice.
"Tonight, I did not extend an invitation to you."
"Yet you came uninvited and stepped into my courtyard."
"You took action for no reason and seriously injured my partner."
"You used the filthiest language to insult my friend."
"You disrupted the banquet I held to celebrate the investiture and blatantly trampled on the order I established here."
Every accusation rings loud and clear, every syllable reaches everyone's ears.
As he spoke, Corleone raised his head slightly, and the firelight danced on his chiseled profile. "Everything you did tonight is enough for you to be severely punished."
"Therefore, I will blame you."
After he finished speaking, he took a half step forward, getting closer to the Mountain.
The Mountain suddenly raised his head, his scarlet eyes bursting with violent killing intent, but the severe pain in his body prevented him from standing.
In the short battle just now, he almost suffered no less than twenty injuries. Although the wounds were not too deep, every one of them was on the tight joints!
Corleone faced his gaze that wanted to eat him alive and said coldly, "Now, apologize."
The physical pain and extreme humiliation made the Mountain feel that his chest was about to explode.
But he still roared at Corleone with all his strength, spittle mixed with blood splashing. "Apologise? Bah!"
"You damn Farmer bastard, lowly maggot, weakling who relies on bitches and cripples for protection!"
"I'm going to tear you apart, crush your bones one by one, and feed your internal organs to the dogs!!!"
The most primitive and vicious curses and insults were blurted out.
Obviously, even in a desperate situation, the Mountain still refused to give in. In his dictionary... well, he didn't have a dictionary.
But it's always him Gregor·Clegane who bullies others!
Facing the Mountain's insults, Corleone listened expressionlessly, and his eyes did not even waver at all, as if the other party was just making meaningless noises.
After all, he had already expected that the Mountain would not give in easily.
The ferocity of this beast is rooted deep in its soul, and simple suppression by force is not enough to make him bow down, especially in full view of the public.
If you push too hard, it may really inspire the Mountain to fight back desperately, just like what he did to Oberyn in the original work.
But... is what Corleone wants really an apology from the Mountain?
The tips of his ears moved slightly, catching the sound of footsteps coming from the Hall of Order behind him, and Corleone raised the corners of his mouth slightly.
Coming.
"That's enough, Sir Gregor."
Hand of the King's majestic voice sounded, but at this moment, Corleone moved.
Instead of retreating, he took a step forward and just broke into the attack range of the Mountain who was kneeling on the ground!
"Roar, die, despicable Farmer!!!"
Sure enough, the Mountain's rage completely swallowed up the last trace of reason, and he immediately became violent and stretched out his thick arms to try to imprison Corleone!
He wanted to crush the throat of this annoying insect and feel the crisp sound of the bones breaking in his palm!
"Not good!"
"Careful, Corleone!"
The exclamations of Jaime and Brienne exploded almost at the same time, and several experienced knights also instantly widened their eyes.
The distance is too close!
They had no time to stop it, they could only watch helplessly!
In their opinion, even though Corleone has unparalleled superb swordsmanship, once caught at such a close distance, the power of the Mountain can easily crush Corleone's body!
"Damn...
"This kid is too careless. If it were me, I would definitely not take it so lightly. I would at least break all the limbs of that guy as soon as possible!"
Not far away, Oberyn felt a shiver in his heart, and his fingertips instinctively grasped the handle of the poison-quenching scimitar, but in his heart he had already sentenced Corleone to death.
It's too late!
The speed of throwing throwing knives cannot stop the Mountain who is so close!
All the bystanders seemed to have foreseen the tragic moment of blood and flesh flying everywhere.
Rub!!!
An icy cold light flashed through, and everyone felt like their eyes were blurred.
Phew!
Immediately afterwards, a sharp ordinary long sword pierced the palm of the Mountain closest to Corleone, and without losing its force, it penetrated directly from the side of the cheek.
The sword edge penetrates muscles and fat, and finally penetrates out from the other side of the Mountain's face!
Tywin, who had just stepped out of the Place of Order, happened to have a panoramic view of this scene.
A cold light flashed in his green eyes, and he hurriedly stopped him. "Stop..."
The words have not yet fallen.
Corleone in the field suddenly grinned at the Mountain, who was very close and had his mouth pierced by a long sword and was stiff.
He held the hilt of the sword with his backhand and pulled and cut it hard to his side!
Stab!!!
A large mass of bloody tissue, accompanied by splattering blood and a few broken teeth, was taken out from the side of the Mountain's severed mouth and fell onto the cold and dirty stone floor.
That was the Mountain's tongue, almost cut off at the root.
Very fresh, even squirming.
"Uh... ho...
The Mountain made a strange, muddy sound from his throat, and a large amount of blood gushes out uncontrollably from the gap in his cut cheek.
The huge body swayed, as if he wanted to say something, but he had been forcibly deprived of the ability to express and insult.
Boom...
Under everyone's gaze, the arrogant the Mountain's tower-like body fell heavily to the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust.
The blood quickly spread under him, forming a dark red trickle.
Corleone's wrist shook slightly, and the blood beads on the sword were flung off in a cool and elegant manner.
He lowered his eyes and glanced indifferently at the Mountain, who was lying on the ground twitching. His tone was extremely calm. "I changed my mind, Sir Gregor·Clegane."
"My friends and I no longer need your apology."
"You... don't need your tongue anymore either."