Oberyn finally disappeared at the corner of the long street. Corleone looked away, turned around and saw Jaime and Brienne approaching side by side.
Jaime's face is still pale, and the sword that was knocked away has been recovered by the servant and pinned to his waist.
"Sorry, Corleone." Jaime said, with a somewhat lonely expression and a slightly hoarse voice. "I still... I wasn't of much help, and I almost became a burden."
"I remember when we were at River Road, you once said, don't be a hero when you live, just live. It seems that I was not born to be a hero."
As he said that, he smiled self-deprecatingly, "What a pity, if I still have my right hand...
"This hand is also very good and suits you very well, Jaime."
Before Jaime could finish speaking, Corleone interrupted directly, took his right hand and raised it in front of the two of them.
Jaime was stunned. Under the light of the lights, the golden palm shone brightly, and even the marks cut by the sword blade were clearly visible.
"It's good that you remember what I once said."
Corleone let go of his right hand, and then pressed Jaime's shoulder with a steady and powerful movement.
"But I also want to tell you that great people are not born great, but show their greatness as they grow up."
"Just now, when you bravely stood in front of me and faced the Mountain, I saw the possibility of this greatness."
"It does not depend on which hand you hold the sword with, but on why you fight and... how you get up after falling and continue fighting."
He paused, and his tone turned to ridicule, but with a bit of sincerity. "Speaking of which, it seems that the left-handed sword training partner you found is really not very good. After practicing for so long, there is no improvement."
"Let's do this. Starting from tomorrow, I will go to the place of order every morning and I will fight you personally. You have been trained as a knight since you were a child, and your foundation is still there. It just takes some time to adapt."
Listening to Corleone's relaxed tone, Jaime felt very warm, and a heartfelt smile appeared on his face involuntarily.
He had betrayed his oath and killed Mad King, earning the reputation of "Kingslayer". Later, he was captured, lost his right hand, and his dignity and honor were trampled into the quagmire of Riverlands.
After going through so many hardships, maybe they were all the hardships Seven had to go through in order for him to meet this guy.
However, after a moment of silence, Jaime slowly and firmly shook his head.
"No, Corleone." He looked over Corleone's shoulders and towards the deep night sky in the north, his voice was decisive.
"I'm going to the North, to the Great Wall."
This sudden thought made Corleone slightly startled, "The North? At this time?"
"Moat Cailin is still in the hands of Ironborn, and the current situation is not stable. I'm afraid Mr. Tywin will not...
"This is my decision." Jaime interrupted him with a self-deprecating arc at the corner of his mouth, but his green eyes remained determined.
"Although the Mountain's words are unpleasant, he is right about one thing. The king does not need a captain Kingsguard who can't even hold his sword firmly."
"The title Kingsguard, to me now, is more of an irony than an honor."
"Back then I would rather be scolded by Seven Kingdoms than take off my white robe, because I know that even if everyone spurns me and despises me, I still have enough power to chop off the heads of those who harm the people I protect one by one!"
"But now... I am no longer qualified to stand beside the king, and he does not need me, Cersei...
You don't need me either."
He stretched out his left hand, clenched his fist, and mentioned the past events of regicide that had never been told in detail to outsiders.
Corleone knows that this is an extremely rare candid exchange for the proud Jaime·Lannister.
After a pause, Jaime took a deep breath and his eyes became sharp. "I want to meet that person."
O
"That person?"
"Yes, that's the one you mentioned... Ranger of the Night's Watch - Colin Halfhand!"
Jaime grinned, and the fire of hope seemed to really burn in his eyes, and he seemed to be back to the boy who longed to become Sword of the Morning.
"I want to see how a person who has truly lost his sword hand can train his left hand to become more powerful, and how he can make Wildlings frightened and become the top ranger!"
"I want to know what meaning swordsmanship... or fighting itself has in a desperate situation."
He told his thoughts, his voice full of passion. "Compared to staying at King's Landing, watching my hair turn white one by one, and watching this decaying body grow old day by day."
"Or, just stand by and let Joffrey do whatever he wants, and let his father turn everyone into measurable benefits."
"For me, fighting... is the driving force to survive."
"A lion that can't hunt can only be driven out of the pack and lie down in the swamp to die silently, right?"
At the end, Jaime raised his eyebrows at Corleone.
"It seems that you have already thought about it."
After a moment of silence, Corleone slowly spoke.
He did not try to dissuade her with excuses such as "You are the captain of Kingsguard", "Tywin will not allow it", "The North is too chaotic now".
Because he saw something in Jaime's eyes, it wasn't impulse or escape.
It is a person who fell from a height and broke his bones. Among the bones and debris on the ground, he tried to pick up the sharpest one and re-understand his relationship with the world.
To risk death and survive is the courage that truly belongs to a lion.
"When are you leaving?" Corleone finally just asked, taking back the hand on his shoulder.
"After the wedding of Joffrey and Margaery."
Jaime replied with a steady voice, "Although he... I still have to stand the last shift and watch that kid get married."
He didn't go on, but Corleone understood.
The upcoming wedding is also the farewell party for Jaime, for King's Landing, for Iron Throne, and perhaps for her past self.
"Corleone...
Suddenly, Jaime looked at him seriously, with a heavy tone. "If you can, please try to help me keep an eye on Cersei."
"Perhaps she was stimulated by her father forcing her to marry Loras. I always feel that Cersei's recent behavior has become more and more unscrupulous. It even reminds me of the original Aerys·Targaryen."
"I know this is very difficult, but I also know that you will always find a way, because you are Vito·Corleone."
Corleone listened quietly and did not agree immediately. After a while, he pretended to be displeased and said with a straight face, "You are increasing my workload, and the risk is extremely high, Jaime·Lannister."
"This is not something a bathtub of Gold Dragon can repay."
As he said that, he raised his eyebrows. "You owe me another favor."
Jaime was stunned for a moment when he heard this, and then he grinned, a bit unruly and tired, but looking a little dazzling. "Yes, I owe another one."
"Ever since you took me out of Riverlands, my debts have piled up, and I don't care if I have one more."
"A Lannister Always Pays His Debts, but I'm afraid I won't be able to pay you back in this lifetime."
The two looked at each other, and after a moment, they both laughed.
There is some helplessness in the laughter, and there is also a tacit understanding between the men that needs no words.
"Okay, I understand."
Corleone nodded and said nothing more.
He just patted Jaime on the shoulder again, this time with a slightly stronger force.
Everyone is an independent individual. He cannot force Jaime to stay in King's Landing. Some roads must be walked alone, and some answers can only be found by oneself. This is the best.
Jaime·Lannister, the proud man born in Casterly Rock, is now trying to break free from the gorgeous prison made of gold and white robes, trying to find his lost pride and regain his sword among the ice, snow and the Great Wall.
Jaime seemed to need no more words. He nodded slightly to Corleone, then to Brienne, then turned around and slowly walked towards the direction of Red Keep.
The Kingsguard cloak swayed lightly in the night wind, still white, but seemed to carry a weight far beyond its material.
He did not look back, just as resolutely riding towards Robb·Stark.
Jaime·Lannister's farewell has always been like this.
This injured lion licked its wounds, not to retreat to the cave, but to head into the colder wilderness to verify a legend about incompleteness and strength.
From the noisy King's Landing to the lonely Great Wall, his back may be staggering, but with every step, he is moving away from the golden cage woven with his own honor.
The two watched him leave.
After a long time, Corleone sighed and turned around, and found Brienne's sapphire-like eyes looking at him. There was no usual seriousness or worry in them, but instead there was a kind of crystal clear relief.
And a hint of... imperceptible loneliness.
"Your swordsmanship." Brienne said, his voice still a little low, but with a hint of imperceptible warmth. "Excellent."
"That's more than just the basics. It's much better than it was at the Harrenhal school. You are very talented, Corleone. At least I have never seen a knight as talented as you."
As she said this, her stern face became much softer than before.
Corleone looked at her, smiled and leaned forward frankly, "You taught me, Brienne."
"I remember every power technique, footwork, and even every word you said on the Harrenhal school field."
"A good teacher is better than ten years of blind practice."
Hearing this, the corners of Brienne's mouth could not help but curve upward, revealing a pure and frank smile.
"I'm very happy."
She spoke concisely and concisely, but the satisfaction in it was self-evident.
For Brienne, he cannot become a knight due to his gender, but being able to teach such an excellent knight at least proves his ability.
However, her smile quickly faded and replaced her with the familiar resolute expression, but it seemed to be filled with different emotions.
"I'm leaving too, Corleone."
Her right hand was on the hilt of the sword, and her voice was firm and powerful. "Tomorrow."
"So urgent?" Corleone frowned and looked at her in confusion.
He expected that Brienne would not stay long, but he did not expect that it would be tomorrow.
"Your swordsmanship has surpassed mine."
Brienne said calmly, without any jealousy or unwillingness, just expressing approval. "I have nothing more to teach you."
"Staying here is a kind of... stagnation for you and me."
She paused, her blue eyes looked around at the lights of the Place of Order, and the extremely clean streets of Flea Bottom in the distance. Her voice was lowered a little, and she seemed to say with emotion, "It's very good here."
"Much better than the Tarth I grew up with..."
She raised her eyes, her gaze was so candid that it was almost clumsy. "In Tarth, people call me "Beauty" Brienne, but the way they look at me, I know what it means."
"But here, in Flea Bottom, when I walk down the street wearing armor and holding a sword, people will call me Miss Brienne", or Madam, or even Sir."
"There was curiosity and awe in their eyes, but there was no disgusting ridicule or scrutiny."
"It's different here than outside. It's hot, not cold."
She seemed not used to talking so much about her feelings. After a pause, her mood seemed to become a little depressed.
After a while, he returned to the original topic and his tone became firm again. "Like Jaime, King's Landing no longer needs me."
"Sansa·Lady Stark, she has found a new shelter. Although it is not tall, it can at least keep her safe. She no longer needs me, a failed protector."
As she spoke, she cast her self-light to the north, just like Jaime, but her goal was more specific and persistent. She held the Oath Keeper tightly and declared, "I... want to find Arya·Lady Stark!"
"I promised Mrs. Catelyn, and to Old and New Gods, I swore to bring her daughters back to Winterfell."
"Miss Sansa is temporarily safe, but Arya is still wandering outside and may be in danger. I must stick to my oath."
Her fists clenched slightly, and her voice was filled with firm determination. "Moreover, I will also kill Stannis·Baila Theon. He murdered Renly. He committed the crime of parricide and must be tried!"
Corleone listened quietly without trying to persuade him to stay.
He looked at Brienne's tall and straight figure and the burning sense of mission in her eyes.
She is an upright sword, just like the blade in her hand, eager to protect her oath.
Her path is clear, perhaps dangerous, but it shines with her own light that cannot be tarnished.
"Well, I wish you a safe journey, Miss Brienne."
Corleone said solemnly, using a formal title. "I hope you find the blood debt owed by Lady Stark, Stannis, and someone will always want to repay it."
He paused, looked into her eyes, and said in a gentle but firm voice, "As for here, the place of order will always reserve a place for you.
"Not as a guest, not as a subordinate, but as a friend, and a respectable knight."
"I am not a knight." Brienne reminded.
"The title is not important, what is important is the behavior." Corleone shook his head and said solemnly, "No matter when you come back, as long as the lights here are still on, you will have a place, a glass of wine, and a...
... a friend you can always confide in."
Brienne was stunned.
Her blue eyes widened slightly, as if she didn't expect to hear such words.
She didn't speak, but nodded heavily. The female knight's jawline was as tight as ever, but there seemed to be something different.
After a while, she solemnly nodded. "Thank you, I... I will remember it. If the gods had protected her, she did not continue and just looked at Corleone deeply again. The emotions contained in her eyes were very complicated.
Then, like a real knight, she touched her chest with her right hand and performed a standard knight's salute to Corleone. Then she turned around and walked towards her temporary destination with firm and calm steps, preparing for Dawn's departure tomorrow.
The night wind blew by, bringing with it the chill of late autumn, and also blew away the last traces of blood and noise in front of the courtyard.
In the blink of an eye, only Corleone was left alone at the bustling door.
Since coming to this world, the two most important partners, one will go north to regain his broken pride, and the other will travel across Seven Kingdoms in pursuit of elusive vows and revenge.
They all chose to leave his wings, or in other words, he never really had "wings" to cover them.
Three people, going their own paths.
No hugs, no tears, just brief conversations and respect between knights.
The parting was so simple, like a sword cutting through the air.
Corleone felt no loss in his heart, only a clearness that became increasingly clear.
In this world, everyone is a lonely boat, each with its own course in the stormy waves of power.
Being together for a while is fate, and parting ways is normal. Trying to tie everyone together will only be counterproductive.
"Huh~~~~ It's so cold."
A gust of cold wind blew by, tightening the cloak around him. Corleone took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.
A brown leaf fell down and landed right in his palm.
"It turns out it's autumn...
He murmured, twirling his fingers lightly, causing the rotten leaves to fall apart.
But soon it turned into dust and fell into the soil, providing nutrients for the growth of new shoots in the coming year.
For a long time, Corleone lowered his head and straightened his slightly messy robe, smoothing the dark palm prints on the cloak.
When he looked up again, all the warmth on his face gradually faded.
He turned around and faced the still shining lights in the Hall of Order, listening to the noisy music floating in the air, and the guests who had not yet left and were waiting with various thoughts.
This is his battlefield tonight and for a long time to come.
Taking steps forward, Shi Shiran walked back to the brightly lit hall, with that calm and confident smile reappearing on his face.
As he entered, the music stopped instantly, conversations started one after another, and almost everyone's eyes focused on Corleone again.
Under everyone's gaze, Corleone walked slowly and quickly to the high platform in the center of the hall and raised one hand.
The entire place of order quickly became quiet.
Looking around the whole place, his eyes swept over the people with different expressions, whether they were nobles, businessmen, commoners or knights.
Clearing his throat, a clear voice echoed in the wide hall, "My lords, sirs, and friends of the mafia."
"I'm about to announce something very, very important...